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Her brunette hair cascades down her back, and images of gripping it tightly while I plant a fiery kiss on her lips infiltrate my mind. That’s an inappropriate thought to have about my assistant.
“Fuck, baby. You’re soaked for me.”
“You’ve got such a greedy little pussy, Presley.”
“I’m not convinced.” I keep my tone serious. “You want to come? You’ll have to beg for it.” “Wh-what?” she stutters. “You heard me, little vixen. Beg me like a good girl, and I’ll let you come… eventually.”
“Fuck me, Mr. Sinclair,” she mewls. “Fuck me hard.” Her begging does me in. “Gladly, Ms. Stafford.”
“Be a good girl and straddle my thigh so you can ride me, baby,”
“Play with your clit like a good little girl.”
