Even as she bit his ear lobe and threatened him, his cock strained inside his pants. He fervently wished he wasn’t tied to the chair so he could bend her over his desk, lift that itty bitty excuse for a skirt, and fuck her hard. Hard enough to make her red manicured nails claw the glossy surface of his desk until she screamed his name.

He wanted to gag her with his cock as he pulled on her hair to punish her for tying him up. Speaking of which, how had she managed to subdue him with him being none the wiser?

“How-”

“How did I manage to tie you up? It's simple, really. Who bought your dinner and served it to you?”

You sneaky little bitch. He wanted to be angry with her, but who could be pissed at a leather goddess who stood just inches away? Especially one whose arousal he could smell.

“Fine," he said. "You’ve made your point. Untie me, and we’ll go to dinner. Talk things over.” Then fuck like bunnies again, since you apparently didn't get enough of me the first time. He’d like another taste of her, too. And as for his job, it was beginning to look like pleasuring the boss’s daughter might be the only way to keep it.

“No.”

“What do you mean, no? What do you expect to accomplish with me tied to this chair?” Grant creased his forehead into a frown. He’d need his hands free to pleasure her and make her forgive him. "Isabelle-"

“I plan to do lots of things to you,” she said with promise before moving to stand in front of him again. “But now-no more talking.”

Isabelle placed one booted heel on his desk. Angled as she was, Grant couldn’t miss the fact that not only was she panty-less, she was also clean shaven and moist. Her pink folds glistened and beckoned for his mouth. Grant almost came in his pants. Fuck, she's hot!

In front of his disbelieving eyes, Isabelle spread her nether lips, inserted two fingers, and withdrew a mini dildo. Its plastic length was coated in her slick juices. He held his breath as she stroked it across her clit, a move that made her lower lips quiver.