Zella
My ass still stung from Isaiah’s hand. The humiliation of being bent over that boardroom table burned, but the sting from his hand on my ass cheeks burned hotter.
I was so annoyed with myself. If he had pressed on, just a bit further, I would have caved in and begged him to touch me, to slip those fingers under my panties and sink them into me.
I ached so bad, for him that it made me want to claw my own skin off. I should hate him. God, I should hate him for threatening to ruin my dad's life-my life. All I wanted to do was run after him, get on my knees and beg him to pin me over that desk again and ram his c**k into me.
Hot pulsing juices pooled between my p***y lips and a soft sigh slipped from my lips. God, I would love to know how he tasted, the feel of his throbbing, pulsing
