Page 18 of The Executive Assistant

His words made me shiver. If someone asked me yesterday whether I’d like it if a guy called me a slut, the answer would be hell no. But something about the way Cameron said it…

I bobbed my head up and down and he moaned, long and low.

“Such a good cocksucker, aren’t you?”

I should have been offended. I should have felt humiliated. But his words, dirty as they were, were wrapped in pleasure and praise and I liked it. I was so, so wet.

I wish I had something to rub against, some friction, but there was nothing, nothing but flat, cold marble. Both of my hands were occupied. I desperately wanted something inside me, or something pressed against my clit, but I had nothing.

Well. If sucking cock was the only thing I could do, I’d do it well. I amped up the speed, letting the hardness between my lips get wetter and wetter until it was soaking with spit. Nasty, naughty noises filled the room — the sound of wetness and Cameron’s groans.

If I couldn’t touch myself, I’d chase those moans. Every noise he made went straight to my clit.

“Fuck, you’re good,” he said. “Shit, Alison…”

Even though my mouth was full as it was, I tried hollowing my cheeks anyway, creating a suction.

He hissed, tipping his head back so I could see the column of his throat, the underside of his jaw. When he looked down at me, his Adam’s apple bobbed.

“You look so hot like that. Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this? Push you to your knees and force mycock into your pretty mouth? See those perfect lips stretch around me. You’re so good. You’re so fucking good. And you love it, don’t you? Getting on your knees for your assistant. You’re always bossing me around, pretending you don’t like me, but look at you now. Look at you now,” he repeated, voice rough.

I whimpered. I could feel him throbbing, could taste salty pre-come on my tongue.

He gritted his teeth. Tightened his grip on my head, until he was almost tugging my hair. “I’m gonna cum,” he said, and the next moment, he shot down my throat.

I swallowed as quickly as I could, not wanting to gag. His hand loosened on my hair and he stood there, catching his breath.

I remained on my knees, breathing in deeply. My jaw hurt. My pussy pulsed.

Cameron tucked himself back into his pants and helped me up to my feet. I felt boneless, dazed.

“You did such a good job,” he told me, and kissed my forehead. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Muffled voices echoed in the background. I was sure that my CFO was saying something fairly important about the company’s finances, but I couldn’t get my brain to focus on his words. All I could think about was Saturday night.

My fingers tightened around the arms of my chair as I sat at the head of the conference table, but I still wasn’t able to pay attention to the meeting. The memory of myself on my knees in front of Cameron as he pushed his cock past my lips played on a loop in my mind over and over. When he took me home that night, I thought that he was going to come inside and take things further. Instead, he walked me to my door, kissed my forehead again, and left.

I spent all of Sunday in a confused daze, unsure if I made the whole thing up in my head or not. Part of me wished he’d stayed the night. I still wanted him. I still wantedmore.

Maybe I needed to fire him, before things got messy. But deep down, I knew that I wouldn’t.

I shifted a little in my seat, the air heating and growing heavier around me. I kept being brought back to that room when I felt his hands on my body, his lips on mine.

“Alison?”

I snapped out of my thoughts and straightened up in my seat. “Yes?”

Wyatt, my CFO, cleared his throat and glanced around at the others. “Did you have any thoughts to share about us going into this next quarter?”

Oh, damn it. I hadn’t listened to a word they’d said. I released the arms of my chair and flexed my fingers, my mind working to come up with something on the spot. “Let’s see… we did really well this past quarter, so we need to keep up the momentum for this next one.”

Everyone around the table nodded, but I could tell they were expecting a different answer. Typically, I was prepared to give a motivating speech that encouraged everyone to give every day their all because hard work always paid off in the end, but I wasn’t in the game today.

Wyatt nodded and clasped his hands together. “Why don’t we call it early, folks?”

I frowned a little, unable to help but feel disappointed in myself. I needed to be present and not distracted. How could I expect the best from my employees when I wasn’t giving my work a hundred percent effort too?

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