“It’s a good job I never want you to be done with me, then. Isn’t it?”
And with that, I twist the doorhandle, dragging Blake over the threshold when it gives way, allowing us to slip inside.
It’s quite obviously someone’s office.
Unforgiving amber low-lighting drenches the small space as soon as I flick on the tall lamp standing beside the doorframe, highlighting the mahogany bookshelves that cover the walls and the matching writing desk in the centre. A maroon-coloured carpet covers the flooring, a matching set of heavy, expensive looking drapes hanging behind the writing desk.
Shutting the door behind us, Blake wastes no time inpushing me against the panelling, placing his lips on mine and devouring me whole. I squirm when the brass doorknob digs uncomfortably into my lower back, scrambling to push his suit jacket from his broad shoulders and grinning into our kiss when I hear it hit the carpet with a muffledthump.
Hands roaming, I band my arms around his neck, pressing the length of my body to his until I feel the hard, thick length of him pressing into my lower stomach.
Before I can really feel my heeled feet moving, Blake is pulling me further in the confined space. Neither of us bothering to lock the office door.
I watch, feeling rather like I’m in a trance, as he swipes pots of pens, ink, papers and even a small grandfather clock to the side of the mahogany desk in haphazard strokes – so unlike his usual style.
“I can’t wait another second to have you,” he mutters deep into my ear, sending shivers up and down my spine.
Spinning me in his strong, corded arms, he pins my back to his broad chest and grabs at my hips. Placing a shiny patent dress shoe against the inside of my small foot, he gives me a quick tap before knocking my legs wider.
My pussy ripples at the possessiveness of his actions.
I hear, more than feel, Blake begin to pull the silver tap of my zipper, from the nape of my neck, down to the base of my spine, baring my body to him.
He pushes the material of my red dress from one shoulder and then the next, his hair tickling when he bends to kiss my flesh.
Broad hands, much bigger than my own, smooth up and down the ladder of my ribcage, before they reach forward, cupping my bare breasts. The dress I’ve been wearing all evening didn’t allow for a bra, not unless I wanted lines. I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’d picked this particular dressbecause I wanted to see Blake’s reaction to me wearing it, but I certainly didn’t account forthiswhen I was getting dressed.
Although, I’m certainly not complaining.
“No bra…” Blake tuts, resting his chin on my shoulder so he can whisper deep into my ear. His talented fingers pluck and strum at my sensitive nipples, pulling a whimper from the base of my dry throat. “Knickers?”
Sinking my teeth into my kiss bitten lower lip, I shrug.
Blake hums dangerously; the sound rumbling through me.
I feel him step back, the heat of his disappearing from my skin and I’m about to turn around and ask where’s he’s going, when Blake flattens a palm to the middle of my spine.
“Bend over, Calla.”
My pussy pulses with his words, slick sliding out of me to dampen my lace underwear. I do as he asks with question, gasping slightly when my bare breasts meet the cool surface of the writing desk.
Blake doesn’t bother with pulling my dress completely from my body, instead, he pushes the slinky material upwards until it pools at my waist. The heat of his eyes on my cloth covered core, my arse, the backs of my thighs has my skin prickling, anticipatory pleasure already zipping up and down my spine.
I jolt forward, panting into my forearms from where I’m laying my head, when I feel Blake’s thick knuckles, calloused with use, touch my core.
“Look at you,” he all but coos, voice low and gruff. “Already making a mess of your knickers. I bet you’re soaked, sunshine. Your little pussy swollen and greedy, begging for my cock. No one else’s. Mine.”
“Yours,” I promise on a whimper.
My clit begs to be touched, licked or sucked. Anything.
I bump my hips back in silent want, squeezing my eyes shut tight when Blake laughs.
“My greedy girl.” He pinches my clit. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna give you what you need.”
There’s no time for foreplay, not that I need it, I’m wet enough already; practically dripping down my thighs. Blake must feel the same overwhelming amount of heady desire, the type that pushes every otherrationalthought from your mind, leaving you with only one sole purpose.
To come.
