Page 109 of Filthy Promises

“Perfect,” he murmurs, his palm gliding over the curve of my ass. “Such a good girl, always so ready for me.”

I hear his zipper. The crinkle of a condom wrapper.

“We shouldn’t,” I protest weakly, even as I widen my stance in invitation. “Diane could call. Someone could need you.”

“Everyone knows not to disturb me when I’m in meetings with my executive assistant.” His fingers find me, testing how wet I am. “And you’re very, very wet, Ms. St. Clair.”

I bite my lip to stifle a moan as he positions himself behind me.

“Tell me what you need,” he orders.

His voice has that rough edge, the one that makes my insides melt. I can barely think straight with him pressed against me like this.

“You,” I whisper, arching back. “God, Vince, I need you.”

“Not good enough.” He holds back, teasing, tormenting. “Be specific.”

The bastard knows exactly what he’s doing to me. Every brush of him against my entrance sends sparks shooting up my spine.

“Please,” I whimper. “I need you inside me. Now.”

He pushes inside me with one powerful thrust, and I have to clamp my hand over my mouth to keep from crying out.

“That’s it,” he growls, setting a punishing pace. “Take all of me. I know it hurts, but there’s pleasure on the other side. If you open wide… if you spread… if you’re a good girl for me… I’ll show you just how nice I can make you feel.”

I try desperately to stay quiet, but it’s impossible. Every thrust sends papers scattering, pens rolling off the edge of the desk. The fact that there are only thin walls to keep the world from knowing what we’re doing in here just makes me clamp around him that much harder.

And fuck, he’s huge. He’s not wrong—I have to spread as wide as I possibly can just to take him into me.

But the stretch comes with everything he promised.

When I come, I bite down on my forearm to muffle my screams.

As always, he’s right behind me. It’s like his body was born to do this to me—but mine was born to do this to him, too. He can’t last much longer after I go.

He ruins my pussy, then pulls away, disposes of the condom, zips up his pants, and boom—he’s perfect again.

I, on the other hand, remain a sopping mess for the rest of the day.

The car is soundproof. The privacy partition is up.

But that doesn’t make this any less insane.

“We’re ten minutes from the meeting,” I gasp as Vince’s hand slides up my thigh. “We can’t?—”

“Ten minutes is plenty of time.” He yanks me onto his lap, my back to his chest, my skirt hiked up around my waist.

From this position, we can both see our reflection in the privacy screen. I look wrecked already—cheeks flushed, lips parted, eyes wild with want.

“Look at you,” he murmurs against my ear. “So proper on the outside. Such a filthy girl underneath.”

His fingers slip beneath my underwear, finding me already wet for him, just like he knew he would.

“Vince,” I whimper as he teases my clit. “We’re going to be late.”

“Then you better come quickly.” His other hand moves to my breast, pinching my nipple through my blouse. “Show me how good you can be.”

It’s obscene, watching myself fall apart in his arms. Seeing what he reduces me to with just his hands, his dirty words.

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