Chapter 5 Who will be on their knees first

His hands quickly latched onto my thighs, grasping underneath the hem of my dress. My breath whooshed from my chest in a rush, my hands still clinging to his hair as he lifted me onto the desk, knocking the laptop to the ground in the process. He spread my legs apart and hiked my dress to my hips, nestling his groin comfortably between them.

My eyes went wide. His arousal was pressed to the thin panty covering my mound. My hips bucked forward against my will, begging for friction. I shouldn't have wanted him so badly, and I most definitely shouldn't have given into the sensation, but the quick pulse below my waist begged to differ. It was filled with a need, aching for the longing burst of release it hadn't had in too long of a time.

Craft's lip twitched in satisfaction, his own hips grinding. The palm of his hand snaked to my lower back, holding me in place. "Don't pretend we don't have the same thoughts about each other," he breathed across my cheek. "Don't deny this."

My eyes rolled to the back of my head as his tongue traced a trail down my neck and to my collarbone. "What am I denying?"

Warm lips caress my jaw. "I've seen how your chest rises when I walk in the door, how your breathing quickens when your vision rakes up and down my body. You've thought about this moment."

What an arrogant prick.

My hands flew from his hair, shoving at his stone of a chest again. His hips stayed in place, but his mouth moved from my skin. "Get the fuck off of me," I hissed. "I've never checked you out. I might stare at you because I'm shocked how much of a conceited asshole you are, not because I want to have sex with you!"

A smirk crossed his lips. He knew I was lying to him. My mouth was confessing my hatred toward his attitude, yet my body was fuming with the undeniable physical desire toward him.

"Ms. Neely, I must admit, I love this smart mouth of yours. You should use it more often."

I grabbed his tie, tugging it forward.

Keeping his face an inch from mine, I whispered. "This smart mouth has all kinds of talents, but you'll never know the half of them."

The hard ridge in his pants twitched into my core, and I etched against it.

He licked his lips. "That's too bad, because my mouth is more than willing to swap talents."

I held my breath, unsure why my being a bitch wasn't turning him off. With his ego, I'd assumed he'd curl away, tell me I'm ugly and that he was only trying to fuck me. Not continue to persuade me.

The pad of his thumb brushed my inner thigh, creeping closer to the apex. My legs were frozen around him, unable to move from the gentle touch. He watched for a reaction every inch higher up my leg he went.

I bit down on my bottom lip, refusing to indicate that my body was craving him and on the verge of submitting. My hatred for him was evaporating into a shock wave of tingles.

"Would you like for me to share?" He murmured, his thumb now playing with my panty line. No doubt he could feel the heat of excitement seeping into his restrained cock.

"Huh?"

Trailing his thumb over the top of the lace now, he skimmed between my lips. His smirk became wicked from feeling my dampened folds. "Would you like for me to share the talent my mouth has?"

I sat there on the desk, my mouth gaped opened as he fondled me underneath my dress. This was all so abrupt, so sudden. I couldn't process a thought, especially when his hands were as skillful as they were rumored to be.

The hand that was on my lower back slid to my waist, stroking a peaked nipple in its route to my chest.

His breath was hot and urgent as he muttered his next words. "Let me show you." The palm of his hand firmly applied pressure against my chest, guiding me to lie on my back. His hand left my chest, grabbing my ankle and rising up my thigh, the anticipation only adding to the ache.

I should have stopped him when he rolled the fabric down my hips and through my heels, getting caught on the sharp end of the stiletto. I should have kicked him in the nuts, or sat up and slapped him. But no, instead I came up onto my elbows, anxious for his next move. Feeling a thrill from how he went to his knees, his pupils dilated as he spread my legs, glued to my center.

Thank goodness I kept up with my razor down there.

His eyes flicked to mine. "You like to watch, don't you?"

I bit my lip. I'd never been intrigued to watch a man go down on me, why I couldn't take my look away from his stubbled jaw so close to my naughty bits was beyond me.

His grin could have belonged to the devil himself. "Filthy girl. I can't wait to taste this pretty pink pussy of yours." One finger slithered between my folds, moving sleekly from my excitement. "I'm going to think about this every time I have a meeting at this table. How you spread your legs for me."

I latched my leg around his shoulder. "And I'll think of how you fell to your knees for me."

His brows narrowed, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips. "You'll be on your knees soon."

My lip curled. Not a chance in hell.

His nimble finger paused at my entrance, gently circling. The slow process was agonizing, and my hips began to move, needing him to come inside. He was teasing me now, and I didn't have time for this shit.

I sat up and grabbed his chin. "You have a meeting at 2:30pm."

In an instant, my breath was stolen from me as two fingers sunk inside of me. My eyes rolled back while he pumped.

"Greedy and impatient. I'm learning all kinds of new character traits of yours, Ms. Neely."

"Yes," I agreed, although the soft hum of my voice was one of satisfaction and not because I agreed with him.

He stood from his knees, palming my mound while he thrust his fingers at a steady pace. "You'll have to be patient for my tongue," he murmured across my gaping mouth, nipping my bottom lip.

"You'll never get mine," I grunted, grasping his biceps for leverage. The way his palm was putting pressure on my clit was creating a buildup I'd never experienced before.

His fingers were jammed to the brim now, crooked perfectly to stimulate me in just the right way.

"Keep doing that," I whispered, latching onto the back of his head, running my hands through his hair.

"Like this?" He coaxed, slowing down his rhythm.

My legs began to shake with the change of pressure, my breathing erratic. I was focused now, chasing the high I never thought I'd get. Especially not from Craft.

Digging my hand down the back of his shirt, I clawed at him, pulling him closer to me. I needed his body heat, the closeness to reach my peak and come crashing down in euphoria. If only we could be skin on skin, the sweat of our heated bodies consuming each other would make the moment all the more intoxicating.

My lips formed an O, ready to utter sounds of bliss into his shoulder.

Then his hand stilled, leaving the warmth of my soaking core.