He hums behind me, dark and satisfied. “So fucking pretty like this. Shaking. Needy. Begging for me.” His thumb traces lazy circles over my inner thigh, maddening in its gentleness. Then another sharp smack lands on the curve of my ass, sending a shock through me.
“Beg,” he growls.
“Please,” I gasp, my voice nothing more than a whimper now. “I need you. I need your mouth. I need to come. Damian, please, please…”
He exhales a hot breath onto my slick, swollen folds, and I jolt like it’s a touch.
“You taste like sin,” he murmurs, reverent again, dragging his tongue in one long, slow stroke. “And I want every drop.”
One of his arms wraps around my thigh, locking me in place. His other hand slides beside his mouth, two fingers thrusting deep while his tongue works my clit. The stretch, the pressure, the sheer precision—it’s too much. I cry out, the sound high and wild, echoing off the walls of the tiny office. My whole body tightens, coiled so tight it feels like I might shatter.
I come fast and hard, my body convulsing against him, everything splintering into light. His mouth stays on me, tongue flicking through the aftershocks, coaxing every last tremble, every last drop of pleasure from me until I’m nothing but trembling limbs and shaking breath.
When I finally sag against the desk, boneless and undone, I feel his mouth press one final kiss to the inside of my thigh. “Mine,” he whispers.
Then I hear the unmistakable sound of his belt sliding free, the soft hiss of fabric and metal. He rises behind me, slow and towering, his presence swallowing the space. I barely have time to catch my breath before his hands are on me again, gripping my hips and dragging me upright. My spine arches, chest heaving, legs trembling as he turns me to face him.
His eyes are molten, dark with hunger, jaw clenched like he’s barely holding himself together. My ass hits the desk, papers crinkling beneath me, and then his mouth is on mine—fierce, consuming, all tongue and teeth and possession.
“Lie back,” he rasps against my lips.
I do.
My hair fans across the desk as he lifts one of my legs, hooks it over his shoulder, and pulls me to the very edge. I gasp as his cock presses against my entrance, thick and hot, already slick. He grips the base and slides it through my folds once, slowly, coating himself in everything I just gave him.
Then he thrusts inside me in one smooth, devastating motion.
A strangled cry tears from my throat as my body takes him in completely. My hands claw for purchase against the desk, but there’s nothing steady to hold on to but him.
He sets a brutal rhythm, hips snapping forward, the slap of skin on skin echoing off the walls. My leg shakes where it rests on his shoulder, my breath ragged, coming in high, desperate gasps.
His hand slides under my ass, lifting me higher, angling me just right so every thrust hits that perfect spot inside me. His other hand grips my breast, thumb brushing my nipple until it pebbles tight beneath his touch.
“Look at me,” he growls, his voice thick and ruined. “I want you watching me when you fall apart again.”
I meet his gaze.
It’s too much.
His stare pins me to the desk, his cock wrecks me from the inside, and his mouth—God, his mouth—is back on my skin, biting at my collarbone, my neck, my jaw.
“You feel that?” he pants. “This is mine. All of it. You. Every fucking inch.”
My hips lift to meet his thrusts, a sob breaking from my throat. Another orgasm builds, fast and hard, dragging a cry from deep in my chest. I reach for him, needing to anchor myself to something real before I fly apart. “Damian,” I whisper, legs shaking, pulse pounding.
“Come for me,” he growls into my mouth. “Show me who you fucking belong to.”
And I do.
I come with another cry, muscles locking around him, body writhing as the pleasure explodes again—hotter, messier, deeper than the last. He follows with a broken curse, slamming into me one final time as he spills inside me, his body trembling, breath hot against my neck.
We stay tangled like that, chests rising and falling in sync, his weight pressing me into the desk like he never wants to let go. I could stay like this forever.
We’re still tangled together, sweat cooling on my skin, when a floorboard creaks in the hallway.
Damian’s head snaps up. So does mine.
He pulls out of me with a whispered curse, grabbing for his jeans. My body clenches at the sudden loss, the ache immediate. He moves quickly, silent, reaching for the hidden safe in the office cabinet. There’s the soft click of the lock, then the unmistakable glimpse of polymer and steel in his hand.
