Free Hands on Justice [The Service Club 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) by Tonya Ramagos Page B

clit after we left, shove a dildo in your pussy and imagine it was Grant’s cock or mine or someone else’s invading your gorgeous body?”
    “No.” She said the word so softly she barely heard it herself. Grant had told her they would know if she disobeyed. She didn’t understand how, but Cade was making it clear Grant had been right.
    “Why not?” He closed his thumbs and forefingers on her nipples, rolled the beaded points, and squeezed them. The pained pleasure was like an imaginary string tugging at her clit. She arched against the back of the chair, her pussy burning, her clit throbbing for the same touch. “You were alone. You were horny. I’m sure you have the proper toys to pleasure yourself.”
    “It wouldn’t have helped,” she admitted on a groan as the squeezing stopped. Her nipples pulsed, wanting more, needing a harder assault. “It never does.”
    She whimpered as his hands eased from her blouse and damned herself for the sound. Her temper sparked anew. She was tired of being teased, fed up with allowing him and Grant to toy with her this way.
    “I can help,” he told her as she felt him straighten behind her. “Stand up and turn around.”
    Justice’s eyes flew open, the shock of his command mollifying her anger. Whatever he had in mind he couldn’t possibly intend to do it here in her office. Dear God, what if someone realized her door was locked? What if they knocked and heard her and Clint rustling inside in their haste to cover what he had been doing to her?
    “I gave you an order, darlin’,” he said in that voice of hardened authority that always set her internal alarm bells ringing. “Don’t make me wait for you to obey me.”
    Justice gulped, placed her hands on the edge of the desk, and pushed herself to her feet. She turned slowly to face him, her heart tripping a beat when he shoved her chair out of the way.
    “Lift your skirt to your waist.”
    “Cade, we can’t do this here.” She wanted to. Sweet goddess of hormones, her body didn’t give a shit where they were or who saw them. She wanted to be skin to skin with him, needed to feel his enormous cock spreading her pussy, ramming into her core until she cried out from orgasm after orgasm.
    “We can do what I want wherever I want. Lift your skirt to your waist.” He repeated the order, his gaze on her one of obvious forced patience. His tolerance for her hesitation wouldn’t last long. He would either walk or she would face a far more severe punishment for her disobedience than Grant had given her Wednesday night.
    So aroused she trembled with it, she fisted the side of her skirt in her hands and pulled it up. The cool air in the office met with the heated flesh of her inner thighs, bringing goose pimples to the surface of her skin.
    “Those are nice,” he said, his attention falling to her black lace thong panties. “I don’t want you wearing them anymore, but they’re very pretty.” He hooked his fingers around the thin strips of lace holding the panties on her hips. “It’s irritating enough that I have to move the skirt out of my way when I want to get to my pussy. I don’t want anything else blocking my access to what I want.” He pulled her panties down her hips, his fingers lightly grazing her flesh and leaving a burning trail in their wake. “If I could, I would keep you naked around the clock. You wouldn’t own a stitch of clothing if you were, say, my housewife.”
    Justice’s belly fluttered. His wife? She had never allowed the prospect of being married to him or Grant out of the deepest recesses of her fantasies.
    “That won’t happen, though.”
    Justice’s heart slammed to her toes, shattering with a painful force that formed a lump in her throat. She had known it, and yet she’d allowed herself to hope. Just for an instant, the dream of forever belonging to him and Grant had filled her, made her feel whole.
    Cade let her panties fall to the floor, his palms returning to grip her hips.