A kiss without regrets.
Lyle slips his fingers into my hair, pulling my head back softly, deepening our kiss. My eyes are open, and the look on his face is fierce, hungry, almost painful as our kiss turns from slow and sensual into greedy.
I can see the starvation in his gaze. The pits of his eyes turn dark as a shaded pool as his tongue drives deeper.
We shouldn't do this. This is wrong.
He's my boss!
The thoughts creep into my head, then quickly get dashed as he grips my thigh with his other hand. His fingers slink down, moving closer and closer to the wetness between my legs. I'm dripping, I can feel it.
This sensation is irresistible. Even if I want to say no, my body will never let me. His hands feel too good, his lips feel too perfect, his tongue tastes too sweet.
I'm screaming on the inside, already begging him for more with every pass of my tongue over his, and sweep of my thighs over each other to satisfy the throb of my clit.
Lyle moves around so he's standing in front of me, and drops to his knees as we kiss. Our lips never break apart. We kiss as if it's our first and our last time, we kiss as if we've lost and found each other all over again.
In a way, I guess I we have.
He spreads my legs apart with his hips, working his way in between, as my skirt bunches up around my waist. My heart is in my throat, pounding so loud I wonder if he can hear it too.
Thump thump.
Thump thump.
Blood rushes between my ears, drowning out the noise from the street below us. My eyes search his, wondering if he's second guessing what we're doing.
His fingers dig into the back of my skull, massaging down my neck with hard strokes, erasing any doubt. He wants this too.
Lyle's hand keeps moving, lower and lower until both his hands are wrapping my thighs under my skirt. He growls into his kiss, his tongue forceful as it tastes mine, sucking my tongue into his mouth.
“Is this what you've always wanted?” he asks between kisses, his voice thick and rough. “Me, taking you how I want you?”
“Yes,” I say with a nod and a moan as his fingers move closer to my pussy. My thighs are shaking, trembling under his touch, and I can't control it.
“You want to feel me touch you here?” he asks, gliding his fingers down between my tits and circling one at a time. I shake my head yes. “You want to feel me here?” His fingers move down over my trembling belly, and stop just above my pussy. “And here?” The tip of his finger moves tortuously slow and stops at my clit. He doesn't use any pressure, he just hovers there, over my panties, causing my tender bud to ache and my muscles to convulse with need.
I'm going to fucking lose it if he doesn't touch me with more than the weight of a feather soon. My hips buck up, attempting to force his touch on me.
“What's wrong?” he asks, his voice sultry and sleek as he cups my mound. “Impatient?”
I nod, fully aware of the desperation in my voice as I say, “Please, I can't take it anymore.”
His smirk thickens, enjoying this game he's playing with my body. The tip of his finger runs down and then back up my slit, pressing my panties between my lips. The edge of his finger grazes my clit, sending a torrent of tingles across my body. My nipples pebble, turning into stone as he begins to circle my clit with more direct strokes.
Moaning, I close my eyes, letting him work my body. He's right when he asks if I've always wanted this. And that scares me. If he can know me this well, what else does he know?
Does he know how many nights I pleasured myself to thoughts of him?
Does he know how many times I imagined what it might feel like to have him inside me?
Does he know how many years I've loved him?
A shiver scales my body as he bites my neck, bringing me back to here and now, the one where we actually exist together. Back to his kisses on my throat, and firm finger rubbing my clit. Pushing my panties to the side, Lyle softly drags his fingers through my wet folds.
I grow wetter and wetter with every stroke, the pads of his fingers are slick and smooth, gliding easily over my lips.
“Does that feel good?” he asks, his words hot as they hit my cheek.
“It feels incredible.” Opening my legs wider, I tilt my hips up, giving him plenty of room to work.
My body is moving on its own, giving him cues to what it wants and what it needs. Lyle smirks as he drives two fingers in so deep his knuckles hit my clit. Pulling out, he drives them in again, curling the tip of his finger.
I buckle beneath him, raking my fingers across his shoulders and spearing him with my nails. I need to hold on or I'm going to fall out of the chair.
My clit is throbbing, pulsing so violently it hurts. I want him to go harder, faster. My hips jerk against his hand, trying desperately to bring myself to climax. I need it, I want it. I can feel the orgasm as it bubbles in the depths of my core, growing like a wildfire I can't contain.
But Lyle won't let me cum, and he's enjoying every second of that power. The control. The way he's in charge of my body. The way his fingers make me squirm and writhe with his touch.
His lids lower, eyes piercing me, and holding me still. He lets me get close, so fucking close, and then he steals it away with
