I flick the first button open. Then the second.
Michael grabs a glass of water and gulps it—just as I undo the third, exposing the swell of my breasts. He chokes mid-swallow, immediately dropping the glass as he dissolves into a coughing fit.
I jump up from my chair, startled. Holy shit, I didn't mean to actually kill him. That would be a hell of a mood killer.
I rush around the table, ready to slap his back. "It's okay, you're–" My words die in my throat when he suddenly grabs me by the waist and yanks me into his lap—right onto the thick, unrelenting length of his cock.
A sharp gasp rips from me, my eyes widening as my fingers clutch his shoulder for balance. The bastard tricked me.
And fuck me, my body loves it. More wetness leaks out of me, and my thighs press together on instinct. The way he maneuvered me so easily was so hot.
"Why are you surprised, dove?" His voice is a deep rasp, his breath warm against my cheek. "Isn't this the result you were hoping to achieve?"
