Greg moved swiftly, yanking Cammy back onto the bed with a firm grip, making her giggle as she landed against the plush mattress.
"Greg," she chided breathlessly, trying—and failing—to push him away. "We should go. It's getting late. I told Debbie we wouldn't take long."
Her words barely made it past her lips before Greg silenced her with a single touch. His index finger pressed gently against her mouth, his dark eyes locked onto hers with pure, unfiltered hunger.
"Shh… Let her wait." His voice was low, commanding. Dangerous. "You may be the boss here, but I am your boss. And I haven't had my fill yet." His lips curled into a wicked smirk. "I want more."
Without waiting for permission, he trailed his hands down her thighs, his touch featherlight but possessive. He pushed her left knee aside, parting her legs effortlessly, making room for himself.
And then she felt it.
Hard. Heavy. Pressing against the soft skin of her inner thigh.
Her breath hitched. Her pulse stuttered.
