“I hope you know what you’re doing.” I release a frustrated moan when she starts stroking me faster. “I’m not going to play these games with you.”
“Who says I’m playing?” she whispers against my lips. “I’m so f*****g wet right now.”
I release a deep growl, and I shut my eyes trying to regain control, but it’s f*****g useless.
“See for yourself, Dr. Bishop,” she taunts in a low, seductive tone.
Taking my hand, she slides it into her panties where I feel how soaked her aching p***y is. “Jesus Christ,” I mutter, pressing my forehead to hers as I slide the pad of my finger along her slit, and her wetness coats my skin. “Shit.”
I’m battling with walking away—knowing how bad this is for our professional relationship—and taking what she’s offering. She gets me so goddamn worked up, I can’t e
