I glare at him, my leg wobbling as my calf muscles get tired of trying to hold me up, and then a knock on the door breaks our standoff.
“Here sir—Apollo—Mr. Kane,” Fredrick stutters and then backs out of the room and closes the door, casting me a quizzical look as he goes. I ignore him. He’s been trying to get in my skirt for months now, but groveling, panty-waisted wimps just don’t do it for me.
“Hold still!” Apollo barks as my right foot starts to inch back toward the floor. I jerk it back up high in the air and huff out a breath. He doesn’t need to yell at me. He sweeps up the glass shards awkwardly, as if he’s never held a broom and dustpan before—he probably hasn’t—and then looks around the office in search of a trashcan.
“Probably behind the desk,” I point out helpfully. He tosses me a glare—obviously men don’t like asking for directions even indoors, but heads that direction, pan and broom in hand. I start to put my right foot down, aching for this torture to end and he barks, back turned, “Don’t even think about it!”
I huff out another breath, louder this time, but he ignores me, dumps the shards, and then advances on me again.
He’s getting awfully close now. He’s—
Squeak!
I have got to stop sounding like I swallowed a dog chew toy.
&
nbsp; He carries me over to the window and sets me down, sliding me down his front as I go.
Oh my god, was that bulge for me? My eyes shoot up to his as I wobble on my high heels in front of him, my hip wedged against his cock.
His ever-growing-bigger cock, swelling larger by the moment.
He has a fucking monster in his pants.
And he’s staring down at me like I’m his next meal.
I think I’ve figured out where his nickname, Wolf of New York, came from…
4
Apollo
So remember how 15 minutes ago, I was going to tell Tiffani to come over to my place tonight so I can beat her ass cherry red and she can cum all over me as I do it? Well, as I’m staring down into this girl’s eyes, I realize a little frantically that I’m going to need to call Tiffani and three of her closest friends just to try to get this fuckable brunette out of my head.
“What’s your name?” I bark, because I realize that Fuckable Brunette, although totally accurate, isn’t going to help me in my quest to keep my cock under control.
“Ashley Miller,” she barks back, lifting her chin defiantly.
Despite myself, I like that. Usually, I like pliant women who do my bidding and suck my cock and orgasm as I fuck ‘em, because I work hard enough in the business world. I don’t need to work hard to get a woman into my bed too. The only games I play are ones that involve handcuffs and ball gags.
But there’s something about Ashley Miller that is turning me on, despite my rules to never date employees, and never date women who want to be chased.
So yeah, she’s breaking all the rules, but instead of dismissing her, I’m pushing my cock against her hip harder, rotating my hips in the smallest of circles, and her breath is getting shorter as we continue to stare at each other.
“Well, Ashley Miller, what were you trying to say before you broke my precious purple vase?”
“Oh, I'm sorry about that,” she said, babbling. “I really didn’t—”
“I was being sarcastic. I’d never seen it before today, and it was the ugliest thing I’d ever laid eyes on.”
She bites her lip and moves her hip ever so slightly against mine. If my entire body didn't feel like it was on fire, I probably would’ve missed it.
“So you’re not going to spank me as a punishment?” she asks breathlessly and rubs her hip just a little harder against me.
My nostrils flare as I suck in my breath and stare down at her. I shouldn’t be doing this, I shouldn’t even be thinking about doing this, but having her right here…
My hips begin grinding harder against her, almost against my will, but I can’t fucking stop. Not now.