“Will—”
He slides a hand down my spine and over my ass, gripping hard. “You gonna be a good girl this time? Or make me fuck the attitude outta you again?”
I moan, breath fogging the wood. “Depends. You gonna talk like that the whole time?”
He chuckles. “Oh, I’m gonna ruin you, sugar.”
He pushes inside me again in one hard thrust, and my fingers claw at the desk as I cry out. He’s already deep, already moving with no patience, no hesitation. Just rough, relentless need.
“Every time you sit in this bar,” he growls against my neck, “I want you to remember how I bent you over this desk and made you come screaming.”
“Will—God?—”
“That’s right,” he snarls, gripping my hips, pounding into me. “Say my name. Let the whole damn bar hear who fucks you like you were made for it.”
My legs are shaking, my cheek pressed to the cool desk, mouth open in helpless moans as he drives into me over and over.
“You gonna come like this?” he taunts, voice pure sin. “Bent over my desk, dripping, stuffed full of cock like a good little girl
“Yes—” I cry out. “Yes, I’m close—please?—”
“Then fucking come for me.”
I fall apart, body convulsing, every nerve lit on fire as I clench around him. He slams into me once—twice—then growls, deep and guttural, as he follows, spilling inside me with a force that makes my knees buckle.
We collapse together, him still inside, both of us undone.
And then he kisses my shoulder, hand still tight on my waist.
“Next time,” he murmurs, voice rough with promise, “I make you come while you're on a call with Sam.”
And somehow, I know he means it.
And he does the next morning when Sam calls. I’m curled up on Will’s couch wearing nothing but his T-shirt and the cockiest post-orgasm smile imaginable when my phone starts to ring.
The name flashing on the screen?
Sam.
I freeze.
Will lifts an eyebrow, stretching beside me, smug and shirtless. “You gonna answer that?”
“I probably should.”
“Mmm.” He shifts closer, his palm sliding up my bare thigh. “You probably should.”
I narrow my eyes. “Behave.”
He grins. “Where’s the fun in that?”
I swipe to answer. “Hey, Sam.”
Will’s fingers don’t stop.
“Hey, just checking in,” Sam says. “You weren’t at the market this morning. Everything good?”
“Yeah—” My voice hitches as Will's hand slides higher. I glare at him. “Everything’s… great.”
