Page 41 of Game Night: Truth or Dare

“You will tell me of big changes in your life that affect this business and not confess them at the last minute.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

After several more smacks, he ran his hand softly over my burning flesh. While it hurt, it wasn’t enough to keep me from sitting down, and I knew right then I wanted more. A lot more. Maybe he could even use a sex tool to spank me.

Mr. Harrington lifted me up by the scruff of my shirt and made me face him. He ran a thumb across my bottom lip. “Look at that face. You’re completely blissed out. Stunning.” His voice was almost reverent. “I knew you would enjoy this.”

Before I could react, his lips were on mine, and his tongue thrust inside like he was fucking my mouth. With my pants and underwear wrapped around my ankles, he leaned over me, consuming me in a heated kiss while his body and arms held me in a protective embrace. Like he would take what he wanted, but he would never let anything bad happen to me. At that moment, I was willing to give him my soul.

“People are going to start coming in soon, but I’m going to fuck you over my desk, and you’re going to be quiet. Is that understood?”

All I could do was nod, incapable of words.

“Are you going to let me in that tight ass, Mr. McCoy? I need your consent.”

“Yes… please, sir. Anything.”

Yep, I was putty in his hands. I had no control over my mind and body, so Mr. Harrington could just take care of me.

He pushed me face down onto his desk again. Soon, his long fingers spread my ass cheeks apart, pulling a muffled cry out of me from the first swipe of his tongue over my hole. Ohmyfuckinggod. I loved being rimmed, but rarely did any of my dates do it, and here, my boss just dove right in.

“Gorgeous fucking pink hole…”

I whimpered again and melted over his desk as he explored with his tongue and fingers, opening me up for him. Did he have a big cock? Would it hurt? Did I care? Not one fucking bit.

He left me for a moment. I was cold and desperate without him as the sounds of zipping and something tearing filled the office. His fingers were soon back on me, but they were oil-slicked and thrusting hard into me to make sure I was good and saturated.

“Do you think you’re ready for me, Mr. McCoy?”

“Yes… please.”

“Fuck. I love your needy voice.”

Despite Mr. Harrington’s assertive forcefulness, he was gentle with the first penetration. He didn’t just slam home, but he eased into me, letting me adapt to him. Judging by the sting, he wasn’t small. Shit, I wish I could see him.

After a few more thrusts, my boss was fully seated inside me. He draped his upper body over my back and groaned. “God, you feel so good. I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t want this.”

“You should because I do, too.”

Mr. Harrington wrapped his arm underneath me and lifted me upright, pressing our bodies together as he held me close. I craned my neck to look back at him, and he captured my lips in his, chafing me with his short beard just like I imagined he would. We were full of sloppy kisses, hot breaths, and slapping and grunting noises. It was utterly salacious and inappropriate for the workplace, turning me on even more.

“Give me your pretty cock,” he mumbled in my ear, reaching for my dick. As he pounded harder into me, he stroked me fast. Between him hitting my prostate over and over and jacking me off, I came, spilling over his hand and onto his office floor.

“Yes, come for me, baby.”

Soon, he froze against my numb body, and I felt the heat of his cum spilling into the condom. He gently eased me back onto his desk, and once again, he laid his chest over my back, breathing heavily. His weight made me feel protected and needed.

“You’re mine now, Mr. McCoy,” he rasped.

“Yes…”

If I was worried about him having second thoughts after coming, I was sorely mistaken. My grin grew as a happy warmth spread through me.

“Don’t think this is all it will be, Myles. I do enjoy making love as well. I’ve just been hungry for you since your text. That’s a lie. I’ve wanted you for years.”

My breath held for a second, processing his words. “You have?”

“Yes. Why do you think I’ve finally given in to you?”

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