Page 132 of The Good Duke
Simon teased her drenched entryway with a lone digit and then suddenly slipped that finger deep inside Persephone’s sodden channel.
She gasped and bucked and arched against him.
Simon withdrew that gift as soon as he bestowed it.
Persephone cried out.
He donned a contemplative look. “Is it bad form to make love to your employer only just after accompanying him on an outing with his potential bride?”
Persephone bit her lower lip. “I t-trust it is in general bad form to make love with one’s employer.”
Simon sighed. “My thoughts exactly.” He hardened his expression. “You’ve been very naughty…which is why you must be punished, Miss Forsyth.”
Her eyes flared with fear and lust.
And then, in one fluid movement, Simon bent her over his desk, so she lay on her stomach with bare buttocks on full display for his viewing pleasure. Without hesitating, he brought his palm down hard over that creamy white flash.
Persephone moaned and squirmed her hips.
“Do you like that, Persephone?” he purred.
She made a little mewling sound. Shifting her hips, Persephone canted her sweet arse up, begging with her body and without words for more.
Simon made atskingsound and smoothed his palm over that heated flesh. “I’m afraid that is not an answer, Miss Forsyth. I’m certain ignoring a question posed by your employer is a punishable offense.”
He brought his hand down and gave Persephone another hard slap across that reddened flesh.
Persephone cried out and arched backward. “Please,” she keened.
“Please what, Miss Forsyth? Please stop?” He slipped two fingers into the crevice of her buttocks, and she wept. “Or please punish you?”
He made to take his hand away.
“Pleasedon’tstop,” she implored between tears.
“Please,” he purred. “How very lovely it is to hear you beg, sweet Seph.”
Rewarding her obedience, Simon gave her two solid smacks in rapid succession.
Persephone cursed and bucked her hips wildly, slamming them against his aching cock and then forward into the front of his desk.
“You deserve the rod, Persephone,” he said gutturally, and then he released himself from his front falls and turned Persephone over quickly, so she lay on her back before him.
Simon entered her in one deep thrust.
She cried out and then, twining her fingers in his hair, she forced Simon’s head down and claimed his lips as her own. All the while, he eased in and then out of her wetness, sliding in and out of her slowly, and then with more and more speed.
The sounds of her plaintive keening blended with Simon’s animalistic grunts and filled the office—and Simon’s head.
He needed to see her as she reached for her pleasure and then ultimately found his.
Simon tore his mouth away and then palming her right breast, he raised the satiny soft flesh and claimed the swollen tip between his lips.
“Simon,” Persephone panted, turning his name into a plea.
This time, she tangled her fingers in Simon’s hair to keep him where she wanted him.
Simon and Persephone’s bodies moved together in a perfect rhythm; him sinking deep into her, and Persephone lifting to meet each powerful thrust in a carnal dance as old as Adam and Eve.
