I know the feeling.
I slip my free hand under her dress and run it along the smooth expanse of her skin, which is taut and warm under my palm. I reach her ass, let my fingertips graze her waist and the dip by the tailbone and feel nothing. She’s most definitely not wearing any underwear. My cock is so hard it’s agonizing. I want to punish her for coming to work like this, but I also want to reward her. The contradictory desires only add to my maddening lust. She’s the only woman who can drive me crazy like this.
I turn us and push her backward until she’s perched on the edge of my desk. All the while, our mouths stay fused, our tongues warring. I tug at the zipper behind her back, pulling it down, until her gorgeous tits are revealed to my hungry gaze. They’re so pert and round. My mouth waters, and I don’t hold back like I did before, when it was her first time—when I wanted to make the moment so, so special for her.
We’re too old for that, too jaded. I want to fuck her out of my system. I desperately want to prove to myself she isn’t that exceptional, and I’ve over-romanticized what happened between us fourteen years ago.
I pull a nipple into my mouth, sucking, flicking my tongue over the hard tip. She makes a hot, ragged sound, then quickly places a hand over her mouth to muffle it.
“I want to hear you.”
“No.” Defiance mixes with the lust in her glittering eyes as she keeps the hand over her mouth.
“You’ll let me hear it.” I take her nipple back in my mouth and run my hands over her, rediscovering her sensitive spots, driving her as crazy as she’s driving me.
Logic doesn’t exist; the old resentment doesn’t exist. The only thing that exists is the scent of her, the taste of her, the heat of her. She makes a sound in the back of her throat that her hand can’t muffle, and satisfaction pours through me. I chuckle softly.
“Fuck you,” she whispers, her voice unsteady.
Laughing, I pull her other nipple into my mouth and trace her every curve. But even as I do my best to dominate her senses, I’m lost in her, like an alcoholic lost in a bottle. When I touch the flesh between her legs and have her juices soak my fingers, I almost come in my pants.
She’s panting hard, her breasts rising and falling rapidly, her thighs spread wide, her pink flesh glistening for me.Me.She can call me an asshole, cut me at every turn, but her body cravesme—whatIcan give.
I manage to pull a condom out of my pants pocket and put it on, then fit my cock at her entrance. I dip my head to reclaim her mouth, but she turns her head, so my lips end up on her smooth cheek as I slide into her.Holy shit.She feels even better than I remembered. So tight. So hot.
All my nerve endings light up. The gods could offer me immortality to pull away, and I wouldn’t. I drive inside her, pounding hard, making sure to hit the spot that she responded to the best all those years ago.
She throws her head back, her neck tight with tension. I wrap my fingers around her hair and try to kiss her. But she clenches her teeth and pulls away. In the back of my head, a small warning goes off, but I’m too lost to give it much notice.
The rough breathing and the tiny sobs that escape the hand over her mouth betray her excitement—how close she is to climax. I drive harder and faster, reaching down to rub her clit. I need to see her unravel, to go out of control like me.
Finally, she shudders in orgasm, and I let go. The pleasure hits with the force of a building collapsing—like an all-consuming, haze-inducing union with the universe.
I struggle to breathe and prop myself up so I don’t crush her. Her breasts rise and fall, her nipples pointed and gorgeous in the sunlight. I lower my head and place a kiss between the soft, sweet mounds. She puts her index finger in the middle of my forehead and slowly pushes me up.
“Enough,” she says, her voice husky.
“I don’t think you’re finished. You were always greedy for more.”Why is she rejecting me now?Her lips purse, and I try to kiss her until she’s pliant and soft again.
She turns away. “Stop.”
“It’s a little too late for games.”
“It’s not a game. I don’t understand why we should kiss now.”
What the hell?We kissed earlier, and she didn’t object. My lower lip still stings a little from a scrape she gave me with her teeth—not that I’m complaining. The pain reminds me this is real.
“It isn’t like you expected something sweet and naïve, did you? We aren’t in college anymore,” she adds.
The unsettling sensation I ignored earlier returns.
Before I can give it any consideration, she continues. “We were just scratching an itch. You wanted to get laid, and I haven’t been with anyone in a while either. So. It doesn’t mean anything.”
What she’s saying is exactly what I should be feeling too, but somehow her words make me feel cheap and used. A hot burn that has nothing to do with lust starts in my belly.
She shrugs. “I enjoy my vibrator, but I don’t kiss it afterward.”
There must be something really fucked up in my head, because that makes me not just furious but hard. I shove my dick back inside her almost violently, and smile with grim satisfaction when she lets out a startled gasp.
