Appealed
Page 46

 Emma Chase

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Can’t have anyone hearing us. Professional image and all that.
“Apparently I didn’t make myself clear enough yesterday.” I reach under Kennedy’s skirt and yank her panties off, shoving them into my pocket. “I’ll remedy that now.”
I push her legs apart, drag her forward, and drop to my knees.
My tongue touches her first, tracing her already slick slit. My lips quickly follow, kissing and sucking that pretty, pretty pussy. Kennedy leans back, moaning low and long, one hand braced on the desk behind her, the other burrowing through my dark hair.
I make love to her cunt with my mouth, the way I wanted to when we woke up this morning. And I fuck her with my tongue—’cause I’d wanted to do that too. With time of the essence, I pay hard, hot homage to her clit, pressing and rubbing—scraping just a bit with my teeth. It stiffens against my tongue, enjoying the attention. Within five minutes she’s writhing against my face, hissing around the gag and right on the razor edge of a massive orgasm.
That’s when I stop. And calmly sit back on my heels.
I stand, unzip my pants, and take my cock out, stroking my erection with a tight fist. Kennedy watches me with wide eyes.
“Did you want to come?” I ask with raised eyebrows.
“Humph.”
I nod, still jerking myself off. “Only women who follow the rules get to come.”
And now she looks pissed. Really pissed.
“But if you say you’re sorry—I’ll let it slide this time.”
“Thrry,” she mumbles, looking anything but.
I tilt my ear toward her. “I couldn’t make that out. Try again?”
“Thrry,” she growls.
My brow furrows, then smooths in exaggerated realization. “Oh—you can’t say sorry, can you? Cause there’s a gag in your mouth.” I tsk my tongue. “Sucks to be you.”
She takes a swing at me, closed-fisted and fast.
I catch her wrist and hold it at her lower back, standing between her knees—my dick wedged against the soft fabric of her blue silk blouse. She comes at me with her other hand, but I catch that one too—locking them both behind her back with one hand.
Her eyes slice over my face. “Uck ooh.”
I give her a great big smile. “Now, that I understand. And I don’t mind if I do.”
I grip my dick at the base, lean forward half on top of Kennedy, and thrust inside her to the hilt. She feels fucking beautiful around me. I pump into her without mercy and her eyes slide closed. She rests her forehead against my jaw. I release her hands to hold her hips, pulling her closer.
You’d think she’d take off the gag, but instead her arms wrap around me, holding on for the ride of her life. It only takes a few minutes to build her back up—till I feel the telltale pulse of her muscles, hear the high-pitched keen of her breath that says she’s about to get off.
And my hips grind to a halt. She tries to do the job herself—jerks up against me—but in her position, that’s not going to get it done.
“If I wake up and you’re not next to me, I’ll tie you to the goddamn bed.” The needy, desperate thread in my voice diminishes the effect of my threat. “And I’ll do this for hours. I won’t leave you hanging, because I’m not that mean. But I’ll make you beg, and I’ll make you scream before I let you come. And that’s a fucking promise.”
I tongue her ear, swirling the shell, ending with a kiss. Then I untie the gag behind her head. “Now say please.”
She bites my ear. Hard.
I jerk away and laugh. “Easy there, Mike Tyson.”
I pull out just an inch and nudge my hips forward, teasing her. “Just say please, Kennedy. For both of us. It’s gonna be so fucking good.”
I feel her lips on my cheek. Against my neck. “Please, Brent. Oh . . . please.”
And that’s all it takes.
I pound into her, hurling us toward the edge and plunging straight over. We come together, groaning and grasping, like two wild, mindless things.
It’s frigging awesome.
Breathing hard, I don’t move for a few minutes—not until my heart slows back to normal. Then I stand upright and straighten her clothes. After tucking my dick away, I wag my finger at her. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson. I’m going to keep your panties for the rest of the day as a reminder.”
She doesn’t look happy with me. And after the monumentally hot experience we just shared, that’s unacceptable.
So I hold her face in both my hands and kiss her gently. My thumb strokes her cheek. “Last night was the best night of my life. I would’ve told you that this morning, if you’d bothered to wake me up before you left.”
Her anger melts away, changing into something that looks more like cautious glee.
I kiss her forehead and step back, licking my lips—still tasting her. “I’ll see you in court, Counselor.”
I give her a wink and walk out the door, a much happier camper than when I entered it.
• • •
In court that afternoon, Kennedy’s distracted. Off her game. Maybe it’s because she’s not used to getting laid in the workplace. Maybe it’s the fact that I took custody of her panties—and finger them in my pocket throughout the session, just for my own perverse pleasure. Whatever the reason—she has a bad day.
And she holds me responsible for it.
I know this when she shows up at my place that evening, walking right in unannounced. Harrison makes her a stiff drink, which she downs in two gulps—glaring at me the whole time.