Page 11 of Babies for the Boss
“Then we will see if you take cock as good as you say.”
4
PAVEL
I have never beena masochist before, but I understand the driving urge of it now.
When I stepped toward Molly, the useless thing in my chest ached. A warning, I think. Then I took another step, and that ache grew, squeezing against my lungs. Made it harder to breathe, while it sent a surge to my cock.
And then I closed the distance. I knew it was wrong. I did it anyway.
I could have stopped. Could have made another choice, one that did not end with me carrying Molly to my office couch. A choice that sent her packing instead of the one that left her panting.
I should have done the smart thing, but perhaps I am not a smart man. Or maybe intelligence has nothing to do with it. The truth is, this exchange is more about pain than anything else, because the longer I am in her presence, the bigger my ache grows. And even still, I cannot send her away.
Not now.
Instead, I pull her onto my lap, and that stretchy dress of hers slides up her thick thighs as she straddles me. “There you are.”
Her quick breaths heave her large breasts against my chest. Glowing strawberry blonde waves cascade over her shoulders, and with the low light in my office, it almost gives her a halo.
My fallen angel.
I skim my hands up her thighs, the outside of them first. Her teeth pinch her bottom lip when I touch her, bone white against the wet pink. When I saw her orgasm from my fingers alone, I watched embers burn in her warm brown eyes, and I want nothing more than to see her catch fire now.
But an overriding sense of duty brings me back to myself. Not the noble part of me—that’s little more than a faint memory these days. The other part of me. The one that determines my next course of action before I can really think about it.
The one who knows I am helpless to resist this woman, and I’m done trying.
I twist my fingers into the hem of her dress and slowly raise it while I stare into her eyes. She looks lost, anxious. Excited. Definitely excited. A spellbinding combination if ever there was one. “Molly.”
She startles at hearing her name. “Yes?”
“You can tell me to stop. But you won’t.”
Her throat works a swallow down. “I won’t?”
“No, you won’t.” I’ve rolled her dress up over her panties. Pink lace. “Take off the dress.”
Without hesitation, she flings it off, tossing the garment across the room. The bra does not match. Beige, to blend with her skin tone. There’s a clip in the front.
If I unclip that and her tits spring free, I will not be able to stop.
I’m not sure I could, regardless.
I reach for it, and when her body spills loose, that unmistakable floral scent of hers washes over me. There is nothing in the world but these tits. This warm, fleshy body. All mine for tonight.
She shrugs off the bra, shifting on my lap, making me ache harder for her.
I can’t breathe. I don’t care.
Her panties are beautiful and fragile. Makes it easy to rip them from her. She gasps at me for that, but no recrimination, no rebuke. If anything, the hunger in her eyes grows.
And she’s naked. I need to see her.
I rasp, “Stand for me, pet.”
She scoots from me to stand in those high heels, every inch of her a human hourglass. The hair below is darker red than what’s on her head, and it makes my mouth water.
