f**k. I want him now. No—I need him.
My legs part wider, begging for his touch, but he doesn’t give it. Not yet.
Instead, he keeps playing with my breasts, his deft fingers making quick work of my dress. He pushes down a shoulder strap,then the other.
Just like that, cold air hits my naked n*****s.
He stares down at my bare breasts, his eyes burning with want. With need.
He wants me. He wants me as badly as I want him.
He bends his head to my chest, licking and sucking until I’m writhing on the desk beneath him. Until I’m going insane withpleasure. My wrists are still caught in his grip, and f**k if it’s not the hottest thing I’ve ever done. I can feel the wetnessbuilding between my legs, feel my inner muscles clenching on nothing.
If he
