Chapter 6

Chapter Six

“ Y ou know what this means, don’t you?” I ask Bentley, standing to take her face in my hands.

“What?”

“That you’re going to have to feed me this delectable fucking pussy of yours regularly now. I told you one taste wouldn’t be enough. Fuck, I already want to do it again.” I flick my eyes to her glistening cunt. Her legs are spread wide, her bare pussy on full display for me.

“Well, if you insist,” she says.

“Yeah, I’m going to need you to get on your knees.” I take a step back. “Now,” I tell her, unbuttoning my pants before I slide my zip down. “As much as I want to sink my cock into your tight little pussy, I’m not letting the first time I fuck you be on a desk. We’re going to need a bed for that.” Freeing my cock, I give it a few tugs. “On your knees, Bentley,” I tell her again when she doesn’t move.

She’s staring at my cock as she slides off the desk and onto her knees right in front of me. The fantasy I had of her in this position does not come close to comparing it to the real thing. She’s fucking hot. No, she’s goddamn perfection on earth.

Taking a small step forward, I close the gap between us and hold my cock to her lips. “Lick it.”

Her eyes blink up at me before she sticks her tongue out, running that nimble appendage up the underside of my shaft.

“Good girl. Now wrap your lips around the tip.”

When she does just that, she doesn’t wait for any further instructions. She doesn’t need them. Because this woman sucks me in as far as she can take me. As heavenly as this feels, I stop her. “Yeah, that’s not how this works, baby girl.” I pull my cock out of her mouth. “I didn’t tell you to suck me yet. I give the orders. You follow them.”

Bentley stares up at me with her mouth hanging open in shock.

I fill the gap with my cock. “Now suck. All the fucking way. I want to feel the back of your throat,” I tell her.

She does. She sucks me in farther than before. And, holy fuck , I don’t know what she does next, but I feel her throat constrict around my cock as she swallows, and I almost lose control.

“Fuck, your mouth is so good, baby girl. Just like that, suck. Yes.” My hand caresses her cheek. “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Your lips wrapped around my cock, fucking amazing,” I tell her.

She doubles her efforts. Using one of her hands, she pumps my shaft as she sucks me in and out of her mouth.

“Look at you. You fucking love this, don’t you. You love sucking me.”

She doesn’t answer, but the moan I feel vibrate from her mouth through my cock tells me what I already know. I can see it in her eyes. She’s fucking turned on as hell right now.

“I’m going to come, and you’re going to take it all like the good fucking girl you are,” I warn her right before shooting my seed down her throat.

Bentley doesn’t disappoint. She swallows every last drop and follows up by licking my cock clean.

“Fucking perfect.” I pick her up from the ground, shoving my tongue into her mouth. Our combined tastes mingle together as I kiss her. “I need to get you into a bed,” I tell her as I pull back to look at her.

“Um, I should go. I need to get home.” She bends down and picks up her skirt, sliding the material up her legs and fastening the button around her waist.

“No, you need to come home with me,” I correct her.

“I’m not going home with you,” she argues, shaking her head to further reiterate her point.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re my boss. And I don’t even like you.” She plucks her bra from the floor, covering her breasts and adjusting the cups.

I should have used the scissors and destroyed all of her clothes. That way, she’d have to stay naked for me. “You liked me plenty when you were screaming my name and coming all over my tongue.”

“I like your skill. That’s not the same as liking you ,” she counters. She already has her blouse in her hands and is shoving her arms through the sleeves. She then ties the fabric together in a knot right under her breasts.

“You’re not walking out of here like that,” I tell her, motioning a hand up and down her body. Her whole torso is exposed.

“Maybe you should have thought of that before you popped off all the buttons.”

“Come home with me. I’ll make it worth your time.” I can’t remember the last time I had to beg a woman to come home with me. Actually, I’ve never fucking begged a woman to come home with me. But with this particular woman, with Bentley, I just might get down on my knees and beg and plead until she agrees.

I want her in my bed. I want to be inside her more than anything right now.

“I can’t tonight. I have to get home.”

“Okay, tomorrow then. I’ll send a car for you,” I tell her with a definitive nod.

“I’ll think about it.” She slings her bag over her shoulder and passes me on the way to the door.

I catch her by the wrist and pull her back into me. I slam my lips over hers. I’m not ready to let her go. I also won’t keep a woman in my presence who doesn’t want to be kept. “Don’t think, just feel. You and me, we are going to create fireworks, baby girl,” I say, then release her arm.

Bentley gives me a small smile before practically running out the door, leaving me staring after her.

It’s four in the afternoon. I’ve been waiting all day to message Bentley. I haven’t thought about anything other than her all day. I’m hoping if I can get her in bed and fuck her out of my system, we can get on with our working relationship. Each of us satisfied with the extra benefits we got. Even as I think it, I know I’m not going to want to let her go anytime soon.

In the office, during the day, Bentley Johnson is the ideal employee, the perfect good girl I’ve been trying to find. But with the way she follows my every order, she’s exactly the kind of sexual partner I need to fill my nights with too. I’ve been on countless dates with ‘good girls.’ You know the type. The ones you could take home to your mother. The ones you can see as mothers. Caring, nurturing, boring. They’re always boring. No matter how many good girls I’ve tried to date, I’ve never been able to bring myself to take any of them to bed.

No, I satisfy my sexual needs with girls like Jessica. Girls who want to be good for me, but don’t mind being naughty with me.

But Bentley? She’s both. She’s everything I’ve been looking for and then some. Because the woman is fucking brilliant on top of it all. The whole fucking package. It would just be a lot easier if she weren’t my employee. That little fact won’t stop me from having her though.

Bringing her number up on my phone, I send her a message.

Me:

I’m coming to pick you up. Be ready in thirty minutes.

Bentley:

Who is this?

Me:

Funny… Do you have many men wanting to pick you up and bring you back to their apartments to fuck your brains out?

Bentley:

The list is long…

I see red. The list is long . Fuck that, there is no fucking list.

Me:

I hope for both of your sakes you’re lying.

Bentley:

Sorry. I’m busy today.

Me:

We had plans.

Bentley:

No, you had plans, Mr Miller. I have a prior engagement I can’t get out of. Have a great weekend. I’ll see you first thing Monday morning.

That’s it. She thinks that’s going to stop me from hunting her down and dragging her back to my apartment like the goddamn caveman I am? The woman’s delusional if she thinks I’ll give up that easily.

Walking into my office, I open my laptop and log in to the firm’s servers. Finding her address in her HR file is child’s play. It’s highly inappropriate for me to use this information for personal reasons. Then again, so is everything else I do when it comes to Bentley.

So fuck it. I pick up my keys and hit the call button for the lift. Once I’m seated behind the steering wheel of my car, I’m even more determined that I’m doing the right thing. She wants this just as much as I do. I know she does. She just doesn’t want to want it. Which is fine. We’ll work on that.

Half an hour later, I’m pulling up out front of a suburban home. And for the first time since I left my apartment, I’m having doubts. Does she live with her mum? This doesn’t look like the kind of place a young woman would have on her own. It’s a large brick house, with well-maintained flower beds and a little garden that fills the manicured yard.

I grab my phone from the centre console, stare up at the house, and send Bentley a text.

Me:

I’m out front. You can either come out, or I’m coming up and ringing that doorbell.

It doesn’t take long before I see a curtain from an upstairs window pull back. I see Bentley’s silhouette staring at me from behind the glass.

Bentley:

Do not ring my doorbell. Give me five minutes.

Exactly three minutes later, a dishevelled and flushed-looking first-year associate is running out the front door of the house and down the gravel path.

“What on earth are you doing here?” Bentley asks as she climbs into the passenger seat of my car.

“Put your seat belt on,” I tell her.

She folds her arms over her chest. “No. What are you doing here? Did you not get the message that I’m busy?”

I reach over, grab the belt, pull it over her body, and clip it in. “Doing what?” I ask, starting the ignition of the car.

“Washing my hair,” she huffs out.

After pulling out onto the street, I look over at her and smirk. “I’ll wash it for you.”

“You are insufferable,” she says, despite her smile.