"Fuck," he muttered and couldn't stop his hand from trailing up my leg. "This is such a bad idea."
"Uh-huh." I nodded and removed my blouse, peeling it back slowly, inch by inch, and then my bra, leaving my breasts bared for his now heated gaze.
His gaze caressed every inch of my skin until he was sliding both hands up my thighs and pushing my skirt up with their momentum.
"Fuck, Win. You wear shit like this to work all the time?"
I shrugged. "Sometimes."
Never. But I'll wear shit like this to work every day if it leads to you and me fucking on your desk.
I lifted my hips so he could move my skirt out of the way, until it was around my waist and my bare ass met the cool surface of his desk.
"Garters and a fucking thong?"
"Uh-huh."
He groaned long and low. "You're trying to kill me."
I shook my head. "No. I'm trying to fuck you again," I admitted frankly.
His eyes never left mine as he scooted his chair even closer, so close that his mouth was mere inches from where I throbbed and ached for him.
"Fuck, you're wet. I can tell you're soaked through your panties," he whispered, the heat of his breath on my thighs making me shiver.
"Uh-huh." I spread my legs even wider and kept them firmly placed on his chair.
"You want my mouth, sweetheart?"
"God, yes."
"Show me."
"Huh?"
He slid my thong to the side with his fingertips and stared up at me. "Touch yourself. Show me what you want me to do with my tongue."
I moaned in response to his words.
"Don't get shy now," he commanded. You wouldn't take no for an answer, so now, neither will I. He didn't say the words, but with the way he was looking at me, he didn't have to. "Rub your clit. Slip a finger inside your pussy. Show me what you need."
Holy fuck.
"Do it, Win. Now."
God, he was demanding. And hot. So fucking hot.
I slowly moved my hand to my pussy. He watched as I rubbed soft circles against my clit. And he kept on watching until I slipped a finger inside myself, feeling just how wet and hot and fucking needy I was for him-not that I needed the proof. That memo was notarized before any clothing had come off.
"You're dripping," he whispered, reaching up to smear my excitement onto my thighs. "I can't wait to lick every fucking drop of sweetness coming from that perfect cunt," he told me. His eyes were hungrier than any big bad wolf.
"Please," I begged.
"Two fingers, Win."
I obeyed, but it still wasn't enough. My two fingers pumping in and out of my pussy made me feel empty in comparison to the way I knew his dick felt inside me.
He forced my hand to a stop with a grip of my wrist and brought my wet fingers up to my nipple.
"Play with your tits, sweetheart," he instructed.
Without any delay, he gripped my ass with his big hands and buried his face between my legs.
A guttural moan slipped past my lips as he devoured me with his lips and tongue. And my hips came off the desk when he slipped a finger inside me and massaged that perfect spot.
"You taste so fucking good," he groaned against my skin.
"Fuck. Shit."
"Don't come," he demanded, but then he sucked my clit into his mouth and flicked along the sensitive bud with his tongue.
"What?" I tried to retort, but it mostly just came out as an incoherent moan.
"Don't come until my cock is inside you."
"Then get inside me."
He stood, unzipped his pants, and pulled out his thick, hard cock. He looked obscene like that, still dressed in his suit and tie, while he stroked his dick up and down, up and down. My gaze stayed locked on his movement, damn near hypnotized by the erotic scene before me. I watched as a drop of pre-come slipped down his shaft, and I couldn't stop myself from hopping off the desk and getting to my knees.
I had to taste him. I had to feel him hard and ready and inside my mouth.
I sucked him into my mouth, and he groaned.
When I licked along the head, he punched his hips forward, and the roots of my hair stung my scalp as he buried a hand and tugged.
I flicked my tongue against his shaft as I sucked him deep, and he cursed and lifted me off my knees. His strong hands turned me toward his desk and directed me to lean forward until my bare breasts were pressed up against the mahogany wood.
"God, you're so fucking bad." He growled and spanked my ass.
It only made me hotter for him. I'd never done the spanking thing before, but apparently, it worked for me in a big way.
"You want my cock?"
"Yes." I moaned.
I heard him open his desk drawer and the familiar sound of a condom wrapper being torn open.
"How hard do you want it?"
I steeled my voice and forced myself to be brazen. "Make my fucking teeth rattle."
"Grip the desk and hold on tight," he gritted out so roughly it sounded like he was barely hanging on. It made me feel heady, powerful. I couldn't believe I'd made him that way.
I reached my arms across the top of his desk until my fingers could grip the edge.
He nudged my legs wider with his knees, and I reveled in the vulnerability of my position. I was spread across his desk like his own personal buffet while my pussy dripped with arousal.
The second he slid his cock inside me, I cried out.
"Yes," he moaned and gripped my hips. "Fuck. Yes. Just inside you, and your pussy is already milking me for more."
"Fuck me. Please, fuck me."
He didn't hold back after that, pounding into me in a hard and steady rhythm.
"God, you look so fucking perfect right now."
"Harder. Please, harder."
He groaned and turned me around, lifting me up until I was sitting on his desk again. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and he slammed back into me. I cried out, and my head fell back. His lips were on my neck, sucking at the skin in rhythm with his cock as he fucked me hard and fast and so goddamn deep.
It was a punishing rhythm, but it didn't feel like mistreatment at all. Each stroke hit me with more intensity than the last, and I had to physically work to keep my pleasure from peaking too soon. It was the kind of sex that felt so good, I was content never to let it end.
I dug my nails into the cotton material covering his back as stars danced behind my eyes.
"Fuuuck. You better come, Win," Wes gritted out as he worked to fight off his own orgasm. "Please come. Oh, Jesus."
And as much as I tried to disobey, I couldn't. I came on an incoherent moan, and he followed my lead, pushing himself deep on a groan and leaning his head forward and sucking a hard nipple into his mouth as he came inside me.
Yes. Yes. Yes.
The only "no" in my mind was in protest that it had come to an end. We hadn't even come down when I whispered in his ear, "Let's go again." Wes laughed into my neck and flexed his arms around me tighter.
"You're insatiable."
"You're a fantastic fuck."
"That's all I am to you?" he asked in a teasing tone. "A fantastic fuck?"
"You're really pretty to look at, too."
He looked contemplative, so much so, it made me pause.
"What? You still think it's a bad idea?" I asked.
Next thing I knew, he lifted me off the desk, turned me around, and spanked my ass. I squealed in response.
"Yes," he whispered as he caressed my breasts with his hands and kissed and licked and sucked at the sensitive skin of my neck. "But the box is already open now."
"The box?" I asked as he pushed his body into mine.
"Pandora."
The age-old story played behind my eyelids, and a tremor slid down my body at what stood out. Hope was the only thing left to hold on to now that the evils were gone.
I'm not sure if that's better or worse.
The air felt like it was full of needles, prickly and harsh and altogether uncomfortable, and my breath misted the air in front of me every time I exhaled.
Ah, fuck. It's going to be winter soon.
I wasn't ever on time, but as I jogged up to the team huddle at rugby practice this evening, I'd never been more appreciative of my penchant for tardiness. It wasn't exactly inviting outdoor weather. Plus, if the way my face felt to me, from the inside out, was any indication, other people were going to be able to read all of my thoughts as if they were scrawled neatly in an open and available book.
And most of them were completely NSFW.
Winnie had kept me … occupied … in my office for longer than I'd planned. Unlike now, I'd been warm-to the point of steamy-and I owed it all to one of the best activities on the planet.
You'd planned on saying no, my brain said.
Yeah, fuck you, I said back.
God, the way she'd just taken her clothes off without looking back, one tantalizing piece at a time until all I could see was skin … Christ. There'd been no saying no. The word had fucking disappeared from the English language as far as I was concerned.
So, thanks to two very rigorous rounds of horizontal exercise, instead of fifteen minutes behind schedule, I was thirty-and thankfully, there would be blessedly less time for gossip.