“So I guess you don’t want to sleep with me, now that you know.” I sounded disappointed, and I couldn’t stop myself. I didn’t know why I cared. It wasn’t like I was going to sleep with him anyway.
“I never said that.” His voice was a growl, and his arms grasped my waist and pulled me onto his lap. “In fact, I want to f**k you even more now.”
“I said sleep with, not f**k,” I whispered as I shifted on his lap. I could feel his hard erection beneath me and it felt like it was growing every time it shifted. I enjoyed the feeling of him gently teasing me, and I made sure to keep up my soft movements in hopes of teasing him as well.
“I don’t sleep, Meg. I only f**k.” His voice was no-nonsense as he whispered in my ear. “I f**k hard and deep, and when I’m done, I’m gone.”
“Romantic,” I whispered into the air and he chuckled.
“I take it that doesn’t impress you?”
“Who would that impress?” I tried to jump up, but his hands were firmly planted around my waist and he wasn’t letting me go anywhere.
“Most women are happy when they hear how deep I can go.”
“I’m not most women.” A surge of jealousy ran through me as I thought about him with other women. Get a grip, Meg. He’s not yours.
“I think I realize that.” His lips nestled into my neck and he kissed me softly, gently biting the skin before licking it. “But I think you’d still be happy to feel how deep I can go.”
“You’re crude.”
“No, I’m just honest. I thought women appreciated honesty.”
“I do,” I moaned as his teeth bit my neck harder. I wiggled in his lap, and his right hand used that as an excuse to grasp my right breast. “Greyson,” I moaned, wanting him to stop but not wanting to say the words that might make him actually stop.
“Meg.” He said my name with a throaty voice, and his fingers gently squeezed my nipple.
“Is this part of the training?” I mumbled after a few seconds. I was finding it very hard to speak coherently.
“No.” His left hand reached up to my other breast now and he shifted underneath me. I felt his hardness between my legs, and I sighed as both of his hands fondled me. I closed my eyes to enjoy the feeling of excitement that had sprung up in my body. I ignored the voice yelling at me to get up and slap the living daylights out of him. It just felt so good.
The music changed then and I recognized the song as being one of Barry White’s. I groaned as his deep voice filled the air, and unconsciously, my body started moving on his lap. My hips slowly started moving back and forth as I gyrated on his lap. I groaned every time I felt his c**k rub against my pu**y. Even though we were both wearing clothes, I could feel him just as well as if we were naked. My panties grew moist at the thought of rubbing up against him naked.
How would it feel to have his hardness up against me, teasing every fiber of me, pushing and tantalizing me, trying to gain entrance to me? I started moving back and forth on him even faster, guided by the smooth, sexy tones of the music and my own images. His fingers slipped under my shirt and traced their way up my stomach and to my bra. They were firm and soft at the same time and left a trail of fire on my skin as they deftly unclasped my bra. I gasped as I felt his fingers gently cup my br**sts and then roll my naked ni**les. The coolness of his touch against my fevered skin caused me to jump slightly, and I heard him groan behind me as I came down hard on his cock.
“What are you doing to me?” he groaned into my hair as his fingers continued to tease me. I ran my fingers along the side of his thighs and continued my movements, not wanting to think about anything other than this moment.
I then felt his right hand slide back down my stomach and stop right underneath my belly button, and my body stilled as I waited to see what he was going to do next. I didn’t have to wait long.
His hand continued its descent and his fingers slid down the front of my pants until his hand was firmly wedged between my legs, and his fingers lightly rubbed me. I groaned then, a loud, unsatisfied lustful sound. I wanted to feel his fingers next to me. It wasn’t enough to feel them lightly through my pants, not with the gentle strokes he was providing.
I increased my pace on his lap then, moving quickly and roughly against his c**k and squeezing my legs together so that I could feel his fingers harder against me. He laughed softly behind me, and his hands moved to my waist again and turned me around so that I was straddling him.
“What?” I moaned and slowly opened my eyes to look at him. He was staring at me with a darkened gaze, his lips curled up and his eyes masked with some emotion I didn’t know.
“So you’re ready to give me my lap dance now?” He smiled at me then, a deep smile, and his eyes lit up as if they were laughing at some hilarious joke.
“What’s so funny?” I mumbled, my body feeling bereft as clouds of doubt seeped into my brain.
“For someone so vocally against f**king and what I want to do to you, you certainly surprised me.”
“I’m not against f**king.” I leaned forward and bit his lower lip hard. “In fact, I quite enjoy f**king.” I shifted in my lap so that I was sitting directly on his erection. “I just don’t like being used.”
“I’m not using you.” He shook his head and his hands grasped my hips and started moving them back and forth. “In fact, I gave you a job.”
“I don’t even know what the job is.”
“Do you really want to know?”
“I want to know if Brandon Hastings is bad news,” I whispered into his ear while lightly nibbling on his earlobe.
“If I tell you that Brandon is bad news, you’ll think I’m bad news as well.”
“Well, aren’t you?” I kissed down his neck and shivered as his hand pushed my butt hard against him. “But to answer your question, yes, if you tell me that Brandon is bad news, I will also assume that you are bad news.”
“Well, I guess I should be honest.” He chuckled, but there was no humor in his tone.
His hands ran up my back, and I leaned forward to kiss him. His lips tasted salty, and I kissed them eagerly, wanting to taste him again before he told me the truth. My tongue eagerly sought entry into his mouth and he sucked on it eagerly as I moved back and forth on his lap, building up the pressure in my pu**y.
I knew that I should sit back and hear what he had to say, but I was scared. I wanted to experience this moment before he told me the truth and I had to leave. Because I would leave. I wasn’t a sadist. At least that was what I tried to tell myself.