Sex In Baron's Office

He had removed his suit jacket and it was slung negligently over the back of the chesterfield armchair of the less formal sitting area beyond the desk. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his tie knot had been loosened, but his hair was immaculately tidycombed back from his face rather than in dishevelled curls falling over his forehead.

In his hand he held a crystal glass with a couple of fingers of whiskey within.

Under her gaze, he leaned back in the chair and placed an ankle on his knee, raising his eyebrow

Jane’s heart raced. She remembered vividly the things they had done with each other over the past three days, how his body felt against and within her, and she wanted suddenly to pull off her sensible dress and place a knee to either side of his hips so that she could free his c-ck from his pinstriped blue trousers and take it into her.

“What is it that you have there?” He prompted into the silence left by her wandering mind.

She moved forward automatically and placed the photo down on the desk. “I need some tape,” she told him hesitantly.

knee. “Like me, you are hiding from Angelique’s guests, and my study is easier to

out for the photo, taking the comment as a reprimand. She shouldn’t have come into

you off,” he took the photo before she could, setting the whiskey down, and fitting the two halves together. “Hmm,” he opened a drawer and took some tape from it, and very carefully lined it up before taping it behind. “I think we

a moment

pleased with himself. “In

her, his kindness was offhand, because he was bored, hiding out in his office whilst

her chin so that their eyes met, she thought that he would kiss her, and when he leaned forward, her eyes were already closing, her mouth softening for the caress, but it

to the side to grant him free access, his mouth against her skin causing her whole body to

bringing it up around her waist, and found the panties that she wore below, sending them sliding down her thighs until they fell to her ankles. She stepped

button of his trousers, the pressure of his c-ck against the zip sliding it down. “Do you know how to use your mouth on a man?” He asked her, his eyes flashing with

he braced against the door with his elbow, angling his c-ck. He watched as she tentatively ran her tongue over the tip of him, where the slit beaded already with pre-come. His groan was encouraging and, emboldened by that evidence of his enjoyment, she took him into her mouth, keeping her teeth from his

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