His mouth landed on my neck when he stood, greed in every swipe and suck of his tongue on my skin.
“Isn’t Lana and Ezzie waiting on us?” I asked, my thighs pressing at the way he grabbed me.
“Do you care?” he asked as he straightened over me.
My stomach twisted with the look in his eyes. “Fuck them.” I kissed him eagerly, and caution vacated between us.
I pushed his jacket off and reached for the hem of his shirt—unable to get his bare body against mine quick enough. He grabbed my blouse, which nearly ripped with the swiftness of its removal. I could already feel him growing against me, and fuck, I wanted to taste him again. I fumbled with the buckle on his jeans. The zipper and soft fabric of his boxers were obstacles that I desperately needed out of my way.
But he grabbed my hands as I started to pull his cock free, and he stilled over me, his green eyes boring into mine.
“I want you to feel how I feel when I’m with you,” he said, breathless.
“How are you going to do that?” I asked.
His gaze darted around us until finally landing on the coat closet, and he broke away from me momentarily to look inside. A soft scarf was in his hands when he returned, and I swallowed at the sight of it. With every wrap of that scarf around his hands, his arms flexed.
“Sit,” he said, jerking his chin to the desk.
I peered behind me at everything on my desk and started moving a few of them out of the way, including my laptop, before perching my ass onto the edge. Breath hitched in my throat as he circled that scarf around my head, and when the room became nothing more than a shadowed blur around me, I blindly reached out for his arm.
“Don’t fight it,” he rasped as he touched my fingers. I felt him lean closer, felt his body's energy just inches from mine, and my chest caved without the aid of my vision. “Give everything over to me,” he said, his breath tickling my cheek. “All your boundaries. All your hesitations. Every uncertainty you’ve ever felt. Let them fall. Free yourself. Put all your trust in me and surrender. I’ve got you, sweet girl.”
His mouth enclosed on mine—a slow, lingering kiss that explored every crevice of my needy soul. And when he pulled away, he placed a gag made from the same scarf in my mouth, and I instantly held my breath.
“Breathe, baby,” he said.
Chills ran down my spine, his delicate touch trailing from my neck to my chest and over my breast. I exhaled, my shoulders going limp as I tried to relax for him.
“That’s it,” he said. “You’re doing so well. Now, lift those hips for me.”
Every little part of me was on fire. I moved my hands until I felt the edge of the desk, and I lifted my hips, letting him slowly pull my pants down over my hips. I started to sit back down, but he grabbed me around the waist and lifted me again, setting down his jacket beneath my bare ass.
Cold air swept over my legs as he torturously relieved me of my leggings. I had no idea where he was going next, no idea of the way he looked at me or anything. A brief second of fear brushed through me, but Gavin’s hand was back on my face as though he had sensed it.
He moved the gag down, his lips landing on mine again. The kiss was a comfort and a promise that he had me. That I could trust him. His tongue explored my mouth, the desire distracting me from where his hands were. I could feel his body between my thighs, feel the magnetism of his palm as it hovered over my thigh.
I flinched when he touched my side, the short stroke tickling my cold skin. He smiled against my mouth.
“Are you going to relax for me?” he asked.
I swallowed, heartbeat thudding in my ears. “Yes.”
“Will you remember to breathe?”
“Yes.”
He placed the fabric back between my teeth, and I forced an inhale. A scoff of approval sounded from Gavin before he kissed my cheek.
“Such a good girl,” he whispered. “Do you know what good girls get, baby?”
I shook my head, my body on the verge of trembling already.
He pushed on my knees, widening my thighs and opening me up to him. And as his fingers trailed up my thigh to my sex, I forced another breath into my lungs.
“Good girls get orgasms,” he breathed against my cheek.
I whimpered, not just at the feel of his words on my skin but at the brush of the pad of his finger on my clit. My hands gripped the edge of the desk, hips angling upward as he began slow gyrations over those nerves and dipping into my wetness.
