Bad Mistake. Part 8

The office door closed, and Mr. Williams pushed out his seat to stare down at me.

He leaned down slightly and pushed his hand into my skirt. “How’re you doing down there?” he asked, fingers thrusting up into my pussy. “Being a good girl for me. Sucking me off. Getting your pussy sopping wet for me.”

A rush of heat warmed my core, and I nodded. “I need you,” I whispered. “I’ve been waiting all week for you to pull me into your office.”

Mr. Williams’s gaze flickered from my eyes to my lips and back. “God, Mila, if I could, you’d be in my office every day like this.”

He crashed his lips hard onto mine and gave me a taste of him—one simple taste—and I wanted more. When he pulled away from me, he massaged my G-spot with his fingers.

“You’re going to continue finger-fucking this pussy of yours. No matter how quiet it gets, no matter how loud and wet that pussy becomes. You don’t stop until your father walks right out of this room for the night,” he said, star