Even further

Emily’s fingers tightened around Kevin’s wrist, guiding his hand to the hem of her skirt. The fabric was impossibly soft under his fingertips, but the heat beneath it was unmistakable. "Touch me," she breathed, her lips brushing his earlobe. "Or are you scared?" The challenge in her voice sent a fresh wave of blood south, and Kevin’s fingers twitched against her thigh.

He shouldn’t. He *knew* he shouldn’t. But the way Emily’s breath hitched when his thumb grazed the lace edge of her panties short-circuited every rational thought. Her skin was fever-hot, and when she rocked her hips forward, the damp fabric against his fingers made his pulse stutter. "See?" she whispered, her teeth dragging along his jaw. "I’m *so* wet for you." The admission—raw, unfiltered—punched through his last shred of resistance.

Kevin’s fingers slipped beneath the lace, and Emily’s knees nearly buckled. A sharp gasp escaped her as he traced her slit, his thumb circling her clit with a pressure that made her nails bite into his shoulders. "Oh, *fuck*," she whimpered, her hips jerking against his hand. The sight of her—blonde hair disheveled, lips parted, her blouse slipping off one shoulder—was almost enough to undo him.

Kevin’s fingers worked Emily’s clit in slow, deliberate circles, his thumb pressing just hard enough to make her whimper around his cock. The vibration traveled straight to his groin, and he groaned, his hips jerking upward instinctively. Emily’s lips tightened around him in response, her tongue dragging along the underside in a way that made his vision blur. She was *learning*—fast—and the thought of it sent a fresh wave of heat through him.

Her hand slid up his thigh, her nails scraping lightly against the fabric of his slacks before curling around his wrist. She guided his fingers deeper, pressing them against her entrance with a muffled moan. Kevin swallowed hard, his pulse hammering as he felt how *wet* she was—hot and slick and *wanting*. He pushed two fingers inside without hesitation, and Emily’s back arched, her knees sliding wider apart on the office carpet.

The muffled sounds she made around his cock were obscene—little gasps and whimpers that sent sparks down his spine. Kevin’s thumb never left her clit, rubbing tight circles as his fingers curled inside her, searching for—*there*. Emily’s entire body tensed when he found it, her nails digging into his thigh hard enough to leave marks. She pulled off him with a wet gasp, her lips swollen and glistening. “*Fuck*,” she panted, her hips rocking against his hand. “Don’t stop—*please*—”

Kevin didn’t. He watched, transfixed, as her eyelids fluttered, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts. Her grip on his thigh tightened, her knuckles whitening as she ground herself against his fingers, chasing the sensation with a desperation that made his cock twitch. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice rough. “Come for me, Emily.”

Her breath hitched, her muscles clamping around his fingers as the first wave hit. Kevin kept his thumb moving, drawing it out until she was trembling, her thighs shaking against his hand. Emily’s head dropped forward, her forehead resting against his knee as she rode out the aftershocks, her breath hot against his skin.

Kevin's fingers stilled inside Emily as her breathing steadied, her forehead damp against his knee. The office smelled like sex now—salt and musk and the faint citrus of her shampoo—and the realization should've horrified him. Instead, he watched the flush spread down her chest where her blouse hung open, transfixed by the way her pulse fluttered at the base of her throat.

Emily lifted her head slowly, her blue eyes hazy and dark. Her lips curled into a shaky smile as she licked them—still wet from him—and Kevin's cock twitched against his thigh. "Wow," she breathed, her voice husky. "That was..." She trailed off, her fingers flexing against his leg like she wasn't sure what to do with her hands.

Kevin should've pulled away. Should've zipped his pants, smoothed his tie, pretended this never happened. But Emily was still straddling his thigh, her skirt hiked up around her hips, and when she rocked forward experimentally, the heat of her through damp lace made his breath catch. "Emily," he warned, but it came out hoarse, unconvincing.

She bit her lip, her gaze flicking down to where he was still painfully hard. "You didn't..." Her fingers brushed his cock, feather-light, and Kevin hissed through his teeth. "Seems unfair," she murmured, leaning in until her breath warmed his ear. "Don't you think?"

The chair creaked as Kevin shifted, his hands settling on her waist. He knew he was crossing a line there was no coming back from—knew it with every fiber of his rational mind—but Emily's skin was so warm under his palms, her hips moving in slow, teasing circles against him. "This is a mistake," he muttered, even as his thumbs dug into the soft flesh above her hips.