Bentley
My c**k twitches in my pants from looking at Hillary on her knees.
Fuck.
My d**k definitely doesn’t know the difference between punishing my secretary and having my sub on her knees for me. I try not to look at her. Her mistake is very punishable, but I’m not going to be guilt-tripped by her sad, innocent, pouty face.
She coughs softly, looking up at me.
Fuck, her eyes are so pretty.
Pretty dark blue eyes with long lashes framing them. She doesn’t even try, but she’s pretty all the time. She’s settled back on her calves again, but I let her. I stand, pour myself a glass of water, and return to my seat.
I glance at her from the corner of my eye and almost choke on my water. She’s wearing a body-hugging red jumpsuit that outlines every single detail of her curves, and the way
