I flash a smile. “Then I’m sure.”
His belt clinks. The zipper rasps open. Then—oh god—he shoves his trousers down.
His cock springs free: veined and red, with pre-cum glistening on the flushed crown. Just below, those heavy balls draw up so tightly.
I take all of him in.
Those obliques that carve their usual sharp valleys above his hips.
His thick thighs, strained against the fabric of the pants pooled around his knees.
My gaze returns to his cock. The centerpiece of it all.
“Touch it,” he commands. I wrap trembling fingers around the heat. He grunts.
“Amara—”
“Shh.” I echo his earlier command: “Let me take care of you.”
I stroke him slowly, watching his face. This is what I wanted. To see him lose control. To watch that careful composure crack.
“I need—” He breaks off, breathing hard. “Condom. Wallet.”
Right. Condom. Because we’re responsible adults who make good choices.
Debatable, given the location, but sure.
He fumbles for his wallet, pulls out a condom.
I take the foil. Slowly tear it with teeth. Then I roll it down his shaft... millimeter by millimeter, my thumb swirling the sheathed head at the same time.
“Fucking tease,” he grits. His hips buck. “Finish.”
I lick the sheathed tip. Taste latex. “Make me.”
He snarls, slamming me against the desk.
“Yes!” I scream.
He roughly slides the condom down the rest of the way.
I grab his sheathed cock, so hard and throbbing, and guide him to my soaked entrance.
“Now,” I rasp, nails digging into his hips. “Fuckingnow, Corin.”
He slams home in one brutal thrust that splits me wide.
Our combined groan is guttural.
I feeleverything—
The stretch, the burn, the obscene glide as he buries himself to the hilt.
For one suspended heartbeat, breath trapped in our lungs, we’re fused. One. A single body.
Then his hands clamp hard on my hips, dragging me to the desk’s edge, and he pistons into me.
Hard.
