The Price of Embezzlement Ch. 02

He is undeniably attractive, and now perhaps I can see that there was some subconscious sexual tension that I had been ignoring... but now that he's pressing himself against me like this, I can feel a whirlwind of passions that I haven't felt this strongly since... I don't know when... maybe never!

He allows his fingertips to brush over my bare flesh, and the tenderness of his touch sends a shiver up my spine. I hear a soft chuckle, as he seems to note the reaction that the gentle contact of his digits is having.

"Hmmm... I think you like this Ruth." The words are whispered quietly into my ear, and I can feel embarrassment reddening my cheeks. Brent has been able to read me so expertly up until this point, but it would take a particularly dense man to miss the way my body is reacting eagerly to his every inappropriate gesture.

He pulls his hand higher and higher up my thigh, and when he reaches the hem of my skirt, I just know that his rapacious fingers will slip underneath and begin exploring the bare skin of my asscheeks and...

His palm slips over the fabric and remains safely outside the skirt. I bite my lower lip to stifle an involuntary huff of disappointment. Disappointment? What the fuck is wrong with me?! I should be elated that he isn't groping my bare ass with his hands, and yet part of me was expecting and hoping that he would do just that? That isn't true! I didn't... I don't want him grabbing my asscheeks, and that's that! I repeat that statement a few times in my mind for good measure.

However, if I thought that his decision to stay outside of my skirt would be the end of my discomfort and... well, I refuse to keep calling it 'arousal'... my heightened sensitivity, I should say. If I thought that my feelings of heightened sensitivity were over, then I'm a fool. I can still feel his powerful hands sweeping across the soft cloth of my skirt, and my body is still reveling in the exquisite sensations that it is receiving. The thin material is a horrible barrier; it is doing nothing to keep him from feeling the entire shape of my plump, sexy butt.

"I can feel the outline of your booty, Ruth." Brent's voice contains the slightest edge of humor. "It doesn't feel as if there are any panties on it. That means that technically, you are home free."

I almost breathe a sigh of relief, before the next words leave his mouth.

"However, you and I both know that you tried to deceive me, and I feel like a bit of a punishment is due, don't you?" His words are dripping with a libidinous hunger that belies the relatively professional facade he has adopted so far.

"Brent, I..." my voice is barely a whisper.

He coils his right arm around my waist, and I can feel the muscles in his arm flexing. If he wanted to hold me here, I don't think I could ever break free. His left hand darts back down to my thigh, slipping beneath the fabric of my skirt this time.

"This is not an expressed part of our agreement, Ruth. Say the word, and I will stop. I'll go back to my office, and I won't try anything like this again. You have my word. Our agreement will continue, but I will not touch you like this again..." The honesty in his voice is as hard as iron. "But if you don't stop me... I am going to give you the punishment I think you deserve."

My poor little heart is beating faster than ever, and I feel as if I might just flatline this instant from the shock of hearing his words. He is going to punish me. The punishment that I deserve? I turn my head slightly sideways to look at him, and the raw, animalistic lust which is plastered across his face is urging me to strip my clothes off this instant and present myself to him without any reservations.

But I can't! First of all, I could never do something that shameful! Secondly, he has a punishment planned, and I'm pretty sure it doesn't entail allowing him to thrust inside of me and quell this fire of arousal which is burning out of control. All of the previous errors of my life have culminated in this current moment of swirling anxiety, embarrassment, and arousal.

He begins slipping the hand up my backside, lifting my skirt higher and higher until the chilly office air is tickling my fully exposed cheeks. At the same time, his other hand grasps the hem of my skirt in the front and begins lifting it as well, until the entirety of my smooth mons is completely revealed.

I close my eyes as a wave of shame washes over me. I don't want this, I keep reminding myself of that fact... I've never been in a situation like this before, and I wish I was anywhere else. I want to get away from here; I need to run far from this wild, rugged, devilishly attractive man and his lecherous, roving hands!

So why don't I just ask him to stop? The question slithers into my mind, leaving me stunned. He has promised to stop, and of course I believe him; Brent is nothing if not honest. I could simply ask him to end this insanity right this instant, and I could leave this room with the remainder of my dignity still in place. So why don't I?

His hot, passionate breath on the back of my neck offers no answers. Neither does the intoxicating scent of his cologne, which somehow seems to intensify his masculine presence. His essence fills this space, dwarfing me in a way that I never would have considered imaginable. He has me exactly where he wants me, and I know that he could do anything to me at this moment; I would be helpless to defend myself.

But his movements are gentle and somehow... almost loving? I am completely at his mercy, but he hasn't chosen to be rough or brutish. His strong fingertips dance across my skin, exploring it with undaunted ease. While a younger, less experienced man would probably be grabbing at my body with mindless, juvenile excitement, Brent is showing an unbelievable amount of restraint, allowing himself to relish the journey, unperturbed and fully in control.

Suddenly, I feel him gripping into my asscheek, and a timid gasp slips out. His brawny fingers begin kneading into the flesh beneath, and I curse how good it feels. He is pressing every one of my buttons so expertly, forcing me out of my comfort zone, and yet somehow never going so far that I want him to stop.

Wait, No! I do want him to stop! I have this whole time! I don't want to be ravished, used, and subjected to this man's perverse desires! I have to remind myself of that! I have to remember... remember that this man... Oooh...

...this man's hand gripping into my glutes feels so good, regardless of my mind's logical objections. I need him to stop, to pull away...! I need him to dig deeper!

He acknowledges my wordless request and the intensity of the massage increases. The gentle pleasantness of the experience rises as well, and I feel like puddy in his hands. How can this man read my unspoken desires so flawlessly? It isn't fair! He is teasing both my mind and body with an experience that seems like he knows me so well.

He first kneads my left cheek and then my right, with a touch that is somehow firm and delicate simultaneously. Fuck, it feels so lovely! That's got to be it! I think he's psychic. That's the only thing I can imagine that would allow him to know exactly what I need and...

Even as I ponder these things, I feel the maddening touch of his other hand upon my smoothly shaven pubic mound. I bite my lower lip, to stifle an involuntary, mewling whimper. That particular section of flesh is incredibly ticklish to me, but somehow he has found the delicate balance between the seductive exploration and unbearable teasing.

"Brent, please! I'm... I'm so...!"

"What's the matter, my dear? Does this feel good? Is it too much? Just tell me what you want. Beg me for it." He leans over me, planting a powerful kiss on my neck; the combination of his hands on both sides of my body, with his lips touching my neck... it is doing unspeakable things to me.

I should tell him to stop... I must, but perhaps I'll hold on just a few more seconds. This is my punishment, after all. I deserve this. Wait... that can't be right. No boss should ever be acting like this with his secretary, and I... mmmm... The motion of his hand is so tempting. His touch feels wrong, and yet so perfect. I curse my libidinous mind for giving in this easily.

He can sense my climbing arousal, I realize, and it is clearly edging him forward. His left hand slips free of my ass, and I sigh; I cannot force myself to ask if it's from relief or disappointment. My skirt falls down partially in the rear, but it is still pulled up in the front, and the relaxed fabric only makes it halfway down my ass before it stops, leaving my body incredibly exposed.

His hand rises upwards and grasps my right breast. I feel my wild heart skip a beat. His arm is long, but in order to bring his left around to my right-hand side, he is forced to pull my body tight against his.

I swallow hard, trying to steady my rapid breathing before I hyperventilate. As the powerful hand begins to massage into the soft globes of flesh, I feel a strong, possessive pull, pinning my body even tighter against his.

I try to speak, to beg, but the words jumble within my mind, and what bubbles to the surface is a mixed up collection of half formed thoughts.

"Ohhh... Brent! Sir..." his warm hand continues gripping into my chest, his index finger and thumb toying with the areola through the thin layers of my blouse and bra; the nipple has grown very stiff, and its sensitivity feels so incredibly heightened right now. "Please, Sir... please... ahhh!"

I can feel his breath against my ear as he speaks, and it carries with it traces of the building passions that we are sharing in this singular, insane experience. "Please, what, Ruth...? What do you want me to do? You can ask me to let you go, and I will... but we both know that isn't what you want... is it?"

"I... I want...! Please... oh Brent, please...!" I want him to grip his hands deeper, and to stop teasing me down below, and really go to work, and... NO! I want him to stop, and allow me to salvage the tiny remaining scraps of my dignity, but...

His arm pulls me tighter, and I'm positive I can feel the outline of his rigid manhood pressing against me. Heat washes across my face, as the implication fully sets in. He's been forcing my arousal to build throughout this entire encounter; of course it only makes sense that he'd be turned on as well. And yet he's been so ridiculously in control this whole time... hell, ever since I first met him... that it's hard to wrap my mind around the fact that his own libido is elevated like this.

"You sound so adorable when you beg, darling." His deep masculine purr is a fierce aphrodisiac, and I shudder once again, as the words take control. "You have so many desires... unspoken... unfulfilled. I know what you want, Ruth. You can't hide anything from me. Not anymore."

I feel the cool surface of his polished leather shoes against my bare foot, as he places one of his legs in between mine and gently forces my legs further apart. I squeeze my eyes shut tightly against the shame, as I tell myself that I am resisting his advances; however, I can sense my thighs parting far too easily. He is realizing it too, I'm certain.

All at once, my mind swoons as he deftly slides the fingers of his right hand down to my pussy, placing a digit on either side of my outer labia. His middle finger rests gently on the slit, and I swear I can feel my own juices drizzling onto him.

"P...Please!" My voice is a timid whisper. "I want... I want...!" In this moment, I want a million things, all of them buffeting my psyche for attention, and most of them wild and contradictory. "Oh Brent... Plea... please... mmmmm..."

I swear that I can hear the subtlest squelching sound as he spreads my petals apart, and places the tip of his digit within the slick folds of my pussy. "Fuck... oh no.. oh yes.. oh please..." I have no idea what I want at this moment, but I want it so badly, my soul is aching.

He begins stroking, and the tender ministrations feel so amazing blended with the sickening shameful knowledge that my employer should never be doing things like this to me. My breath is ragged and uneasy. He has not relinquished his grip on my breast either, and he continues working his hands into the soft flesh, effortlessly multitasking between the sensitive skin of my nipples and the incredibly sensitive skin of my snatch.

"Mmmmmmmm... fuck, oh fuck... Brent! Ahhhh...!"

As soon as the words begin slipping from my lips, I feel him sink deeper within the silky petals of my drenched cunt, and he begins stroking me with a passionate determination. His body presses tighter against mine, and I struggle to keep my moans inside. His finger is penetrating me up to the second joint, even as the ridge of his palm is placing gentle pressure on my clitoral hood.

I turn my head backward to look at my boss, and out of the corner of my eye, I can see that his face is beaming with a wry smile. He is loving every second of this. Deep, lusty words reach my ears, although I am struggling to concentrate on them as the pleasure begins to rise within my body. "This is your punishment, Ruth." His words are dripping with authority, and my mind struggles to comprehend how such amazing sensations could ever be interpreted as anything but a reward. "Make sure you keep your voice down. These walls are not very thick. Just listen." He gestures with his eyes to the wall, and immediately, I place my ear against the cool surface.

My eyes grow wide with fear and shock as I realize that I can hear the muffled sounds of voices and phones ringing... this wall must be incredibly thin! Oh no! Oh shit! If he continues like this, I won't be able to keep my voice down, and the whole damn office is gonna hear!

I feel myself struggling slightly, not to get away exactly, but rather to lessen the building euphoric stimulation that is building within my womanhood. Brent is unperturbed, and he shifts with me, never stopping the maddening motions of his fingering even for a moment.

"B... oh fuck... Brent! You've... you've gotta st... mmmmm... Oh fuck!" The enraptured sensations are still climbing, and I bite my lower lip hard as he drags a finger directly across my clit. "Fuck! Brent you've gotta... oh fuck! That feels so damn...! Ohhh!"

His wicked grin is as wide as ever. "What's the matter Ruth? You've hidden secrets much bigger than this one! You can't control yourself long enough to keep this under wraps?"

He's toying with me again! He's teasing me, when I'm at my absolute weakest... I can feel the first signs of an impending orgasm building, but my boss is cool and collected, teasing me about my past indiscretions and this scenario which he's forced upon me. I need to stop him! He's promised to quit if I demand it, and that's my only option, because otherwise, we will get caught! I can just feel it!

"Oh Brent p...please!" I have to ask him to stop. I just have to. "Please, sir... please...! Ohhhh!!!" His probing is growing stronger now! "Sir... you have to... oh fuck..." Just say it! "You just have to... mmmmmppphhh!!!" An additional moan slips from my lips, louder this time.

His left hand is still kneading the flesh of my breast, and he moves over to the left one now, giving my body more things to focus on than it ever could hope to. How the fuck did he get so good at multitasking?! I am trying desperately to ask him to stop; that is all it would take, and yet the words refuse to leave my mouth. Everytime I nearly manage to say the words, another wave of pleasure washes across my body, and my tongue refuses to obey!

"You keep saying please, Ruth!" His voice is full of salacious glee. "You've been so good at taking what you want in the past. If you don't tell me what you need, how can I help you? Don't you know that this punishment is best for you? Won't you admit that you've been such a bad girl?"

Bad girl!!! The words thunder within my ears and my body tenses, as that simple expression sends a wave of shameful emotions cascading through my psyche with an unstoppable force.

He's right! I am a bad girl! I hate to admit it; it's the kind of thing that I've hidden away for so long, but fuck! This man is bringing out an animalistic heat within me that I've always tried so hard to keep under wraps. I drive my hips back into his body, and I feel it as he grips me even tighter.

I reach my hand back and run it through his hair, grinding my body against his, even as his fingers continue their dirty work.

"Oh God, Brent! You.... oh fuck! You feel so.... Mmmmm... so good! I want you.... want you... I want you so... bad right now!" I am humping against his hand, as he rides the increasing gyrations of my body, skillfully pushing me towards an inevitable climax. A warning begins to thrum within my mind, telling me that I'm going to get too loud. I'm going to alert the whole building to our sick little game, but I can't bring myself to care.

There is nothing in the world that matters to me at this moment. Only this incredibly attractive man, the skillful work of his masculine hands, and the orgasmic pleasure that is building within me like a cataclysmic tidal wave.

"Oh Fuck Brent! I'm gonna... Oh... I'm so close! I'm gonna...!"

There is an audible rattle of a doorknob, as the supply door cracks open. I hear a voice, and suddenly the pleasure and the amazing work that Brent had been doing are dragged away from me with terrifying speed. All emotions within my mind are replaced with a blinding terror.

"Yeah, Frank!" A voice calls out, as if shouting to someone across the office. "I'm gonna grab a fresh case of empty folders, don't worry!" The ambient noise of the building floods into the room as the door bangs open, and I hear footsteps coming this way. We are out of sight of the entrance, but it will only be one second before the intruder steps around the corner and comes face to face with me and Brent! Fucking Hell!

I try to pull away from Brent, but his strong, athletic body is like an immovable stone. He has mostly stopped the stroking of his fingers, but he is still toying with me slightly. I want to scream at him that we will get caught, but I don't dare make a sound. Why won't he let go? Doesn't he realize how dangerous this is?

Time seems to slow to a snail's pace, and I can feel my heart racing out of control.

"Hey, Steven! If you're here to get fresh folders, this store room is actually out of them. You can get some from the storage room on the 12th floor. When you do, would you mind bringing some up to my office? I'd appreciate it!" His voice is cool, informal, and completely unshaken. Even with his fingers still gently probing within and without my body, his tone is completely unaffected. His voice still contains the same air of unflappable command that he uses everyday as he handles issues with unconcerned ease.

"Oh, is that you, Brent? Uhh... sure thing! I'll bring some up. Hey did you catch the game last night! I wanted to say that..." I hear the footsteps beginning to approach again, and my heart threatens to stop functioning just as before.

"Not to rush you too much, Steven, but I actually do need those folders ASAP. As soon as I finish here, I'll stop by your desk and we can talk about the game then. Sound good?" His voice is just as calm and collected as ever. Our doom is probably only a few feet away, just around the corner... and Brent seems completely unperturbed.

Again, time seems to freeze, and nothing exists except for the terror withering my soul, Brent with his unshakable fearlessness, and the steady motions of his fingers... which are still sending gentle ripples of pleasure within me.