“Shit, Lydia, shit,” I growled. “Fucking hell, you feel so good.”
“It hurts,” she breathed. “It really hurts.” Her eyes were on mine again, big and glazed with dilated pupils, but she was horny. Sweet fucking Jesus, she was horny. “Fuck me,” she hissed. “Fuck me, James, I want it rough.”
She sent me insane, and in a heartbeat I was pounding her tight little asshole, my fingers yanking at her hair as I slammed her over my desk. I lost all sense of reason, all sense of anything, lost to everything but the soft little whimpers coming from her throat and her tight, hot hole sucking me dry. “I’m going to shoot in your ass, Lydia, I’m going to shoot my load in your filthy little asshole.”
“Yes,” she grunted. “I want it, fucking fuck me, James, fucking fuck me.”
I slammed in all the way, emptying my balls inside her. She let out a shrill little squeak at the final intrusion, wriggling under my weight. It was a major explosion, shaky legs almost giving way under me. I jerked inside her, watching her tight little ring clenching around me, sucking at me like a hungry little mouth. I pulled out as I finished, loving the way my seed bubbled out with me. I kissed the filthy brown lips that had milked me and slipped my tongue inside, loving the way she squirmed.
“You’re dirty bad wrong, James Clarke,” she hissed, spreading her ass cheeks for more. “So fucking dirty bad wrong.”
“Yes, I am,” I laughed. “And you love me for it.”
She didn’t laugh back.
***
Lydia
You love me for it. You love me for it. You love me for it.
Of course I didn’t love him for it. I definitely didn’t. That’s what I wanted to say. That’s what I wanted to feel. A rough anal pounding over a desk at work does not equal romance. White knights don’t show up with red roses and metal rulers all ready to slap you on the clitoris. Ow, it still fucking hurt.
I took the stairs to the flat two at a time, happy to find the door unlocked.
“Bex!” I squealed. “Oh my God, Rebecca, you’re never going to believe what the lovely James Clarke did to me today! He fucked me in the ass, at WORK, over his desk while our boss was out golfing. Can you even believe this shit?” I put the kettle on, trying to peer out onto the balcony. “It’s crazy, right?” I laughed. “I’m still in shock.”
“James Clarke got his cock out at the office? Well, that is a turn up.” I jumped a mile at the strange voice. Its owner stepped in through the sliding doors; a leggy Amazonian with purple hair, her chocolate skin like something from a beauty magazine. She was stunning. I choked for words, and she smiled at me. “I’m Jaz, Rebecca’s ex. I own the building.”
“Oh, hi, I’m um...”
“Embarrassed probably.” She shared Rebecca’s cackle. “I know James well, although I must say I’m surprised by the work stunt. Not really his style.”
I could have died on the spot. “It was just a crazy moment, no big deal,” I said, failing miserably to play it down.
“I’ll have a coffee if you’re making one.”
I took out another mug and she joined me in the kitchen, leaning back against the fridge like she owned the place, which I suppose she did. I felt strangely uncomfortable in my own space. “You must be Lydia. I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard a lot about you too.” I smiled as broadly as I could.
“I didn’t realise things were so serious between you and James,” she said. “Rebecca said it was Explicit-only.”
“It is,” I said. “Today was a one-off. It won’t happen again.” I offered her milk and sugar but she waved them away.
“Tell me, Lydia, do you like him?”
I raised my eyebrows, handing her a mug. “Yes, I like him, we work together. He’s very professional.”
“Don’t be coy,” she said. “Do you like him?”
I tried to relax, assure myself that she was Rebecca’s ex-girlfriend and a thoroughly nice person, but there was something off about her. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. “It’s casual,” I told her. “Nothing serious.”
“So, you don’t have feelings for him?”
“No.” I didn’t realise how much of a lie that was until it was out of my mouth, but once I’d told it I knew I’d rather pull my own toenails out than tell her any different.
She flashed me a smile, but it didn’t meet her eyes. “Well, that’s sensible,” she said. “He’s a hard one to love, very hard.”