Snow Job by Tara Wyatt (best large ereader .txt) 📗

closer to the desk. “Every day, I come in here, and I have to look at you. I have to listen to you. Sometimes, when you’re close, I can even smell you. And I can’t focus because all I can think about is you and how fucking hot you are.”

His nostrils flared and he shifted in his chair. “I see.”

“Let me show you,” she said softly and came around to his side of the desk. She moved the laptop to the side and sat down, then slowly spread her legs, the movement causing her skirt to ride up. “Look how wet you make me, Mr. Prescott. How am I supposed to concentrate on anything when I’m soaking my panties every time you’re in the room?”

She glanced down and could see that she’d indeed made a very noticeable wet spot because playing this game with him was beyond sexy. Her skin felt like it was on fire, arousal burning through her.

He made a gruff sound, his eyes dark and intense. “Mmm. That is quite the personal problem, isn’t it?” He slid a hand up her calf, over her knee and to her inner thigh, stopping several inches short of where she wanted him. “And how do you suggest I help you with this?”

She moved her panties to the side, exposing her pussy to him. “Maybe if you made me come, I’d be able to get some work done.”

He moved closer, inhaling deeply. “If I help you with this, no one can know, Kayla. This will have to be our secret.” He trailed his fingers over the seam of her thigh, brushing against her outer lips.

She sucked in shaky breath. “I promise I won’t tell anyone. I promise. Just…please make me come. Please. I can’t take this anymore.”

“Take your panties off. I don’t want anything in my way while I take care of this pretty pussy.”

Standing in front of him, she hiked her skirt up to her hips and then slipped her panties down her legs, carefully stepping out of them. He took the scrap of lace from her fingers and shoved it into his pocket.

“I’m going to hang on to these since you’ve already ruined them.” Then he reached out and gave her hip a possessive squeeze. “Up on the desk. Spread your legs for me.”

She sat on the edge of the table, leaning back on her hands, anticipation throbbing through her as he moved his chair closer.

“Please, Mr. Prescott,” she whispered, trembling with how turned on she was. “Please.”

“Please what?” he asked. He skated his palm over her wet folds, making her gasp.

“Please take care of my needy pussy so I can get some work done.”

He worked his fingers up and down her slit, spreading her moisture around and then circled her clit with agonizing slowness. She bit her lip and moaned.

“You have to be quiet, Kayla. No one can know that I’m helping you with this.” He took his fingers away from her clit and slid his palm over her again, the wet, slippery pressure of his entire hand on her exquisite.

“Okay. I’ll be quiet, I promise.”

“Good girl,” he murmured, still playing with her. “I can’t believe you’ve been walking around this wet and swollen.”

“It’s been torture,” she whispered, watching as he returned his fingers to her clit. It seemed to swell beneath his skilled touch and she clamped her mouth shut, desperately trying not to make a sound.

He leaned forward and kissed her clit, working it slowly with his lips and tongue, and it took everything she had not to scream at the sensation of his mouth on her.

“Mr. Prescott, I didn’t…” She shook her head, and he looked up at her, his mouth still on her pussy.

“You didn’t expect to show me a pussy this gorgeous, this wet and pink and think I wasn’t going to taste it, did you?”

“Does it taste good?” she asked, feigning sudden shyness.

He swirled his tongue around her clit several times before answering. “It tastes like fucking heaven, Kayla. All this sweetness just for me,” he growled, and then closed his mouth over her, kissing her deeply. She couldn’t seem to keep her hips still and she knew she wasn’t going to last much longer before her orgasm exploded through her.

He pulled away and slid two fingers inside her, fucking her slowly. Despite her best efforts, she moaned and he let out a low chuckle.

“You like having your pussy stuffed full, don’t you? Does that help with the ache deep inside you?”

“Mmmhmm,” she whimpered, her lips clamped shut. “I think about your cock inside me constantly.” She was losing herself in the fantasy, letting it mix with reality, mix with her own fantasies she’d once had about him. That twinge of regret was still there, that maybe they could’ve found their way to each other so much sooner if she’d actually seen him. Maybe she could’ve prevented his downward spiral. She knew that his problems then hadn’t been her responsibility, but now that she cared about him and knew how bad things had been, she wished she could’ve helped, somehow.

“You should’ve come to me sooner,” he said, still fucking her with his fingers. “I would’ve helped you with this as soon as it became a problem.” He pulled his fingers out and returned to her clit, massaging in deliciously wet circles. Her pussy spasmed, everything inside her tightening, twisting, burning under his touch. “How do you want to come?”

“Your mouth,” she said quickly. “Make me come with your mouth. Please. Please.” She was begging and she didn’t care.

He spread her open with his thumbs and flicked his tongue over her pulsing clit. She let out a loud moan, unable to stop herself. Her hips jerked as he sucked her clit into his mouth, the pressure inside her building. A sharp, squeezing feeling started low in her belly, and she knew she was going to come hard. He’d stopped teasing and was eating her with licks and sucks, the feeling of his tongue