Threads of Desire
Gregory Ellington
“You drive me insane,” he growled against my throat.
“Good,” I gasped. His hands slid up my thighs beneath my skirt, thumbs stroking the inside of my legs with slow, torturous intent. When he pushed my panties aside with one firm stroke and pressed his fingers against my wet heat, I arched into him, helpless.
“You’re soaked,” he said, voice like gravel. -“Shut up and don’t stop.” He laughed—low, dark, wicked—and sank to his knees on the boardroom floor. The edge of the conference table dug ...
“Good,” I gasped. His hands slid up my thighs beneath my skirt, thumbs stroking the inside of my legs with slow, torturous intent. When he pushed my panties aside with one firm stroke and pressed his fingers against my wet heat, I arched into him, helpless.
“You’re soaked,” he said, voice like gravel. -“Shut up and don’t stop.” He laughed—low, dark, wicked—and sank to his knees on the boardroom floor. The edge of the conference table dug ...