My back is pressed against the wall as his mouth travels down to my neck. Emerson barely comes up for air. He’s like a man left to die of starvation and finally offered a meal. His hands grip my ass as he hoists me up, wrapping my legs around him as he grinds me into the wall. The rock-hard bulge in his pants rubs against my clit and I explode with sound, crying out for him.
“My girl wants this, doesn’t she?” he growls as he does it again.
“Yes!” I cry, pulling him in for another kiss.
“Then get on your knees and take it out.”
No one has ever scrambled to their knees faster than I do in this moment. Heat pummels my insides at just the sound of his sex commands. I want more—I need more. I want Emerson Grant to dominate me like he never has before, tell me every single dirty thing he wants to do to me and every dirty thing he wants me to do to him. I will obey every single command without hesitation. His voice is like lava dripping down my spine, and I am a gooey mess of a sub, willing to do literally anything he says.
I’m so eager to have his cock in my hand, my fingers fumble with his zipper while his hand gently brushes back my hair. I’m hit with a sudden sensation of I can’t believe this is happening mixed with Thank God this is finally happening creating one epic feeling of carnal elation and excitement.
When I finally get his button undone and his zipper down, I see the tip of his waiting cock, red and throbbing, poking out the top of his tight black boxers. Gently easing down the elastic, I slowly let this sight sink in. I’m looking at Emerson Grant’s cock, just inches away from my face.
Gazing up at him with my sex-crazed doe eyes, I whisper, “Now what?”
He smiles before biting his lip. “What do you want to do with it?”
Mirroring his expression, I bite my own lip. “I want to suck your cock,” I say, my sweet tone laced with false innocence.
He leans down and puts his face close to mine. “You have to ask nicely.”
“Sir,” I breathe, pressing against his lips. “Can I please suck your cock?”
He growls, squeezing his fist in my hair as he kisses me with so much strength it almost hurts.
“You’re so phenomenal,” and the praise lights a fire in my belly. My panties must be destroyed by now, and I swear it’ll take one touch against my clit and I’ll be done for. I thought the hallway moment was the hottest thing I’ve ever done, but that was before I had the full Emerson Grant experience.
With his hand still in my hair, he stands upright and guides my face toward his crotch. Pulling his waistband down even farther, I run my tongue along the length of his shaft, reaching the head and circling my lips around it. He gasps and shifts his hips forward. I love his reactions, and I want to make him do more. So I lick his cock again and again, teasing him just to feel him tense and hear him pant.
When I finally open my mouth and slide him in along the length of my tongue, he moans so loud, the vibrations rattle through me.
“Fuck, Charlotte.”
Yes. I need more of that, I think as I bob up and down on his shaft, finding my rhythm and coating his dick with saliva. When he touches the back of my throat, I gag and take a breath, before letting him go deeper and deeper. He stops breathing at one point and I’m almost certain he’s going to unload in my mouth. I’ve never experienced spitting or swallowing before, but I would for him. I would do anything for him.
Instead of coming in my mouth, he lets out a guttural roar and yanks me off the floor.
“Not yet,” he barks as he carries me to his desk, kissing my mouth with a fierce hunger.
He drops me on his desk and grabs my blouse at the center. With one quick jerk, he tears it apart, sending buttons flying across the room. There is no pacing himself as he yanks down my bra. I let out a gasp when his mouth finds my breasts.
My hips are writhing against him as his teeth gently close around my right nipple. He massages my other breast with his hand, tugging on the sensitive bud and making my body light up with fireworks.
“Oh my God…” I gasp
Moving his mouth downward, he drags up my skirt to find my panties underneath.
“Lie down,” he growls in a sexy command, so I do. Staring up at the ceiling, feeling like I’m drunk as it sways and blurs in my vision, I feel Emerson’s face between my thighs. He takes a long inhale through his nose, nuzzled against the moisture of my panties.
I want to be self-conscious. In any other scenario or with any other man, I would be, but with him, I just let myself feel it, without thinking too much about the smell, or how it’s been a couple days since I shaved, or if the fact that I’m so turned on is somehow embarrassing.