8: Harriet.

God, this is like a dream.

My skin is fevered, sensitive, my core clenching painfully. Needy. I lean up and press our lips together, licking the seam of his mouth lightly. "Do you want to give me an orgasm, Locke?"

"Yes," he chokes out. "Please."

How is this real? This big, gorgeous genius is all but shaking with the need to please me, his erection like a torpedo in his pants. He has no idea how easy this is going to be. Getting me off. I'm already poised right on the edge just having his undivided attention.

I slip off the desk and slowly, slowly tug my skirt up to my waist.

Swaying my hips side to side, I peel down my panties, all the way to the floor. Then I straighten. I lean back against the desk and let him look at my bare sex. I'm dripping wet. Waxed. All for him. And he makes a hoarse noise, nostrils flaring, yanking hard on his collar.

"Do you know where to touch me?" I question quietly, taking hold of his tie and pulling, bringing his body closer. "Or do you want me to show