“Proceed, Lannie.” Then I spread my legs in offering.
He doesn’t bother trying to kiss me. We’re not intimate lovers making a romantic connection. This isn’t a tender moment where emotions need to be blended into the mix. He crouches and bunches my skirt around my hips. His finger snaps the thin elastic protecting my modesty.
“These are sexy.” Landon’s voice resembles a growl as he stares at my covered folds.
“Thanks.” It’s not like I chose the slinky thong with him in mind.
“They’re also in my way.” He tugs the scrap of lace down my legs, pocketing the evidence.
I shiver, my nipples puckering beneath silky satin. That slight rasp is more potent than an electrical shock. I bite my bottom lip to trap a moan from escaping as he bends toward me.
He peppers kisses along my inner thigh, then treats the other to a similar fate. The tingles from those teasing touches aim straight for my core. I clench at the emptiness, a whimper almost escaping. He’s certainly taking his time, lavishing the area around my center with licks and nips. His shoulders spread me wider as he notches himself against me.
Cool air whispers across my slickness and I shudder from the tantalizing sensation. My nerves are hyperaware as I hang in the balance for his next move. His methods are intentional, getting me turned on until my mind shuts off and allows my body to take over. I’m ready to shove myself into his mouth at this point. When Landon finally connects with my slit, I’m so eager that I nearly rocket off the chair. Static convulsions collect in my lower belly, sending off sparks that make me gasp. I’m a throb of greedy desire—hot and yearning—ready to explode.
Landon drags his tongue along my most sensitive bits. I spear my fingers through his hair, anchoring us together. He swirls around my clit before latching on and sucking hard. A wheeze trips from my gaping mouth. The man is good. He doesn’t even need to use his hands for me to melt in his freaking clutches. His technique should be published in a sexual guide for dummies.
I’m already racing toward the edge after mere moments under his expert tongue. I grind against his face like a shameless hussy. Seeking relief is all I care about. I’m lost to his wet caress and disconnecting from our surroundings. Higher and higher he pushes me. A scream tickles my throat and I gulp to chase the sound away. Locked in the lion’s den we might be, but I don’t need to draw attention.
The mounting pressure is ratcheting loud enough that I don’t hear the door open. Clarity pierces the fog as Walt strides forward, directly toward me.
As if sensing our unexpected company, Landon shuffles sideways and remains out of sight. He adjusts our position while dipping under the desk, dragging me with him. As he shifts us, I’m left facing Walt while his tongue continues assaulting my clit. He doesn’t detach for a single second, keeping me on the precipice regardless of our interruption.
I shove at Landon’s head that’s still very much lodged between my thighs, but he doesn’t budge. Quite the opposite, actually. The bastard continues assaulting my sex with renewed vigor. My eyes roll back without consent as he strikes again. I squirm and wiggle on the chair, but only scoot an inch. He bands an arm across my hips, anchoring me in place. The message is clear—I’m not going anywhere. He expects me to sit here and take it while his assistant gawks at me. I grip the desk until my knuckles are white.
“Ms. Simons?” Walt is squinting at me while I attempt to stave off the most powerful orgasm of my life.
“You need to leave,” I spew out through gritted teeth. Sweat tickles my hairline.
He moves closer and I choke on my own spit. “Are you feeling well?”
“Not at the moment. I will be once you get out.” I wave a sloppy palm toward the propped door. Landon chooses this moment to shove a finger inside me, wiggling that digit in search of my hidden sweet spot. “Oh, sweet Lord.”
Walt peers from left to right, a crease forming between his brows. “What’s wrong, Ms. Simons?”
I slap a palm to the smooth wood under my grasp. “You.”
He recoils, a hand on his chest. “That’s harsh.”
As if he isn’t used to it. I narrow my eyes, battling again the molten embers surging my veins. “Why are you still here?”
Walt keeps his feet planted. “Where’s Mr. Winters?”
“Get out, get out, get out!” The chant follows the rush of flames lapping at my core.
A chuckle erupts from Landon, buried from view beneath me and the freaking desk.
Realization stains Walt’s cheeks. “Um, okay. Good luck with that.”
He scurries from the room as if his ass has been cracked with a whip.
A sigh deflates the tension flexing my posture. Landon still doesn’t let up, attacking my pulsing bundle with an intensity that could make me black out. I tighten my hold on his hair. “You’re an ass—”
I’m cut off when he hums against my center. A yelp is ripped from me before I can stem the telling sound. I muffle the noise with a palm across my lips. With another harsh tug of suction, I’m sent into the welcoming abyss. White steals my vision for a second as I blast into climax. My limbs lock up as I twitch against this immovable force. Even though I’m already soaring, Landon still eats at me.
When I sag into the chair, the filthy man on his knees finally lets up. His mouth is glossy from me and the sight does stupid things to my resolve at staying angry.
My exhales are breathy puffs as I prepare to scold him. “You did that on purpose.”
“There’s no proving that.”
“Liar.”
“Should I make it up to you?” He blows a steamy exhale across my exposed center.
“That’s not necessary.” I attempt to snap my legs shut, but he’s blocking the way. It probably doesn’t help that my muscles resemble the consistency of a jelly puddle. “You’ve already done plenty. I’m not sure if I’ll survive another.”
“Do you want a new confession from me?” He’s still worshiping at my throne, making no move to retreat.
I sprawl in a lazy heap without concern for decorum. Let the man have his fill. “Sure, why not.”
It’s not like I’m going anywhere.
“Listening to you argue is arousing as fuck, but hearing you shatter by my doing? That’s irresistible, sugar.”
I let my jaw go slack while he dives back in, proving his conviction.
I glare out my window as the limo putters along Walton Street. The bow tie around my neck threatens to choke me as I allow the memories from earlier to seep in. My mind indulges in the interesting twist in our dynamic that this morning delivered. Vannah shocked me with her enthusiasm. Her initial reluctance at another round vanished once my tongue returned to her pussy. She left gouges in my scalp from her yanking. That woman has an appetite that can rival mine, which I’ve never found until now. Just further proof that Vannah is changing the game. She might not even realize it. I’ll need to recalibrate my strategy after I’m done fucking her.
Speaking of getting shit done, we had a semi-productive afternoon. I alternated between staving off my increasing hunger for her and answering emails that required no real effort. My brain took a vacation after she clamped her knees around my ears for the third time. In hindsight, that move probably protected my hearing. Vannah is a screamer. Just recalling those high-pitched squeals gets me hard all over again. I adjust my dick, cursing the damn thing for refusing to quit. Jacking off in the shower didn’t take the edge off. Too bad she wasn’t there to watch—or lend a helping hand. We can explore those options later.