Felicity, Sexy, but Not SO Innocent. Part 2

Part 2

“You sound like a woman planning trouble.”

What I didn’t tell her was that he was the reason for the skirt. Our CEO, Adrian James. Charming in a sharp, quiet way. The kind of man who looks at you like he’s reading a future only he can see.

The last time I saw him was last week, just the two of us, locked in a private room pulsating with the hum of two new quantum computers. The powerful machines, running all of our AI systems, were misbehaving, as they often did, and I was tasked with taming them.

I was in my wheelchair, a metal case resting between my legs as I leaned forward to reach a cable tangled behind the server rack. Balancing on one hand, my body pressed lightly against the metal bar for support. It was sexually innocent at first, just the cool, hard touch of steel between my legs, against my vagina, but then...

Then I felt it.

The faintest pressure, the friction as the bar brushed between my legs, teasing the spot where some sensation still lingered, a whisper of warmth left behind by my skydiving accident. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

A slow, almost imperceptible heat began to coil in my core, a quiet reminder that even in this sterile, tech-driven sanctuary, my partly crippled body could still be sexually aroused. I held my breath, closed my eyes for a few seconds, my hand steadying me as I lingered in that moment, the hum of the computers blending with the pulse of my own quiet arousal.

He was there, just behind me, focused on the task at hand. Unaware. Or perhaps he was.

I didn’t meet his eyes, didn’t let him see the flush I knew was creeping up my neck. But I felt it, the electricity in the room, the unspoken tension crackling between us. Because even in the midst of wires and algorithms, I was still Felicity. Still alive, losing control to that faint, warm sensation.

When I turned, he was watching me. Not with pity, never that. His gaze was heavy, loaded with something far more primal. Interest. Admiration. A sexual hunger he couldn’t quite hide.

I held his stare, unflinching, as the air between us thickened. His words came low, deliberate, each syllable a slow caress just like if he was kissing my breasts.

“No need to rush,” he said, his voice rough around the edges. “I like… watching how you move.”

A pause. A beat. Then, the truth spilled out, raw and unfiltered.

“I wish I was between those sexy legs of yours.”

The words hung there, simmering in the space between us. I didn’t shy away. Didn’t blush. Instead, I let a slow smile curve my lips, a smile that said I know exactly what you’re thinking.

Because I did.

And for a moment, just a moment, I let myself imagine it too, his body pressed against mine, his hands against my breast, his lips tracing the curve of my thighs where sensation still lingered.

But I was Felicity and I was in control. So I simply leaned back in my wheelchair, the faintest spark of heat still dancing between my legs, and met his gaze with a look that promised nothing... and everything at the same time.

“Careful,” I said my voice dripping with seduction, each word a slow, deliberate stroke of his penis. “Some wishes… are harder to handle than you think.”

I let the words linger, thick and heavy, as I leaned back in my chair, my feet sitting in the foot rest, my legs bent at the knees, long, elegant, and totally immobile, my nipples begging for his touch. My stilettos caught the light, like sensual whispers of temptation.

His eyes burned as they traveled the length of my legs, tracing every inch, the soft slope of my thighs, the arch of my feet, the way my heels hung just so, teasingly useless yet very beautiful. His gaze was like a dildo, searing through the air, and I could feel the hunger, the need, the unspoken desire to kneel before me and claim me.  

He wanted his sexy and oh sensual employee. But I wasn’t something to be claimed. No, I was something to be earned dear CEO.

So…do it…

Part 3 to come
Ashley

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