His Nasty Virgin

Mr. Harding smiles down at me and places his hand on my lower back, gently guiding me off the elevator. The feel of his palm pressed against me has every cell in my body on fire with need. I try my best to act casual and not like I’m leaving a small trail of arousal behind me. I’m too embarrassed to look to see if I’m dripping onto the floor, but, fuck, does it feel like it.

He leads me past his secretary, stopping to say, “Please make sure I’m not disturbed, Doris,” before guiding me into his very large, very luxurious office. Once inside, he closes the door and walks to his desk. He turns and leans against it, crossing his long legs out in front of him as he watches me. I’m not sure what to do, so I stand awkwardly and look around his office. It’s imposing, to say the least. The desk he’s leaning against is large and made of some kind of dark wood, there are two leather chairs in front of his desk, and there’s a wall of windows that gives an amazing view of the lake that the city is built around.

“Wow,” I say, watching a flock of birds fly by before arcing out over the water.

“I’m glad you like it,” Mr. Harding says, still watching me with those intense green eyes of his. “Why don’t you sit down, Renee?”

Grateful to be told what to do since my brain has just decided to stop working, I walk over and sit in the plush, leather chair in front of him. His eyes run over my sweater. “Cold?” he asks, arching a brow at me.Content provided by NôvelDrama.Org.

I feel my cheeks heat up again when I remember how hard my nipples are and my super-wise decision to go braless. “Um, no,” I manage to mumble.

“Then take it off.”

His commanding tone of voice and the confident way he carries himself has me practically wiggling in my seat. I slide my sweater off, feeling my face grow redder as it slowly drops away, revealing my skintight shirt and hard nipples. He lets out a quick, deep groan that he quickly cuts off, and when I’m still too embarrassed to look at him, he says, “Renee,” and that one word has me turning my eyes up to his. The heat in them nearly knocks me on my ass, but he keeps the rest of his body under perfect control. The only other clue that this is affecting him is the way he’s clenching his jaw just a bit tighter.

“Interesting choice of outfits to come and bring your dad lunch.”

When I didn’t say anything, his lips quirked up in a small grin that looked devilish on him. It’s the kind of look that promises all kinds of wicked, wonderful things, and I want them all. “Did you wear this for me?” “Yes,” I say, meeting his eyes.

“Good.” He runs his eyes over me again. “I see you chose to skip the bra today. Good girl,” he praises, making me let out a soft moan before I can stop myself. He raises a brow at that but doesn’t comment on it. “Did you skip the panties too?”

“No.”

“Tell me what’s under that tiny skirt.”

“A black thong.”

“What else?”

I look at him confused. “That’s all I’m wearing.”

He smiles and says, “Your pussy, sweetheart. Tell me about your pussy.”

I start to lift my skirt so I can just show him, but he stops me with a tsking noise. “No, no, pet. Tell me.”

“Um, well, it’s shaved and very, very wet.”

He closes his eyes as if he’s picturing what I’m saying. “How wet?”

“So wet, Mr. Harding. I’ve soaked through my thong, and my inner thighs are slick with my juices.”

“Good girl,” he says, and I love how strained his voice sounds.

“There’s something else, Mr. Harding.”

He opens his eyes and looks at me. “What is it, sweetheart?” “My pussy is untouched.”

He grips the desk so tightly that I see his knuckles turn white. “What do you mean by that exactly?”

I smile and say, “I mean I’m a virgin, and no one has ever seen or touched my pussy.” I fidget with the bottom of my skirt. “I know it’s silly, but I’ve kind of had a crush on you for a while now, and I always wished that you would be my first.”

He gives me a sinfully wicked grin. “You want me to pop your cherry, pet?”

“Yes,” I moan, running my eyes down his powerful body and letting out a soft gasp when I see the very large bulge in his pants.

“Then be a good girl and go stand against the window.”

It’s the last thing I’m expecting him to say, so I just sit there waiting for him to tell me that what he means is to stand up and bend over so I can fuck you, but he doesn’t say anything else, just watches me, giving me that same intense stare that has me quickly standing and walking over to the large wall of windows. When I’m next to it, I look back at him, wondering just what in the hell I’m supposed to be doing.

He smiles and says, “Hands against the glass, Renee.”