“What’s wrong?” I gasp, suddenly worried I’ve done something weird or made an unfortunate noise.
“Nothing,” he says. “I just need to see your face.”
He lifts me onto the desk, settling between my legs. His hand comes up to cradle my face, thumb brushing slow across my cheek. The gentleness of it after everything else makes my breath hitch.
“Hi, sweetheart.” He winks.
This isn’t the wild desperation from moments ago. This is something else.
“Hi,” I whisper back.
“Georgie,” he breathes against my mouth as he pushes inside me again, this time slowly.
“Patrick,” I whisper, and his arms tighten around me as he begins to move in long, deep strokes that hit exactly the right spot.
Everything slows down. The frantic energy from before melts into something else as our bodies rock together in perfect rhythm.
He’s looking at me the way I’ve always wanted someone to look at me. Not just with desire but with something deeper. This feels like, as corny as it sounds, love making.
This is him showing me with his body what he can’t say with words. Claiming me with every slow thrust, rewriting every insecurity I’ve ever had.
How could I ever think he wanted anyone else? How could I doubt this when he’s looking at me like this?
I lean back on the desk, my back arching as my body clenches around him, and I come so hard I feel tears of joy.
“Fuuuuck,” he groans as he pulses inside me, filling me with his cum.
He stares at me, pupils dilated, chest heaving with each breath.
“You’re all sweaty now.” I giggle, touching his damp forehead with shaking fingers.
“What did you expect?” he says, chest still heaving. “I’ve just fucked you senseless in full Highland dress. This wool weighs a ton.”
He breathes out heavily. “This is the moment when your brother walks in and catches us.”
“Oh my god.” I laugh. “My worst nightmare. Luckily the door is locked.”
Patrick’s mouth curves against mine.
That’s when I hear it.
A crackling sound beneath me. Faint. Like static but wrong somehow. Too mechanical.
I freeze.
Patrick stills too.
The crackling comes again. Louder this time. Clearer.
I look down. My hand is splayed across the desk intercom.
The red light ison.
“Sir?” A tinny voice crackles through the speaker. “Your intercom is activated.”
My entire body goes cold. My eyes meet Patrick’s, and I watch the color drain from his face.
“Oh my god,” I whimper. “Did we just—”
