My chest heaves, feral and desperate, but I force the words out. “You want me to stop?” The words grind out, deep and rough. “Say it now.” For a heartbeat she freezes. Then her hips jerk, pushing up, forcing me deeper inside her tight, trembling cunt.
“Don’t stop, please don’t.” She moans.
The sound that leaves my throat is not human. A guttural growl tears out as my control shatters. “Fuck Autumn.” I slam forward, the desk groaning next to us, her cry muffled against my shoulder as I cage her in, pounding her into the rug, claiming every inch but still not able to go all the way in her.
I growl, chest pressed to hers, sweat dripping from my temples onto her flushed skin. My cock buries inch after inch, the stretch making her back arch, her nails carving red down my arms. “You feel that?” My voice is rough gravel, primal and ragged. My hand presses flat against her stomach, pushing down so the bulge rises under my palm. “That’s me, sweetheart. That’s how deep I am in your cunt.”
Her whimper breaks into a cry, head thrown back, throat arched. “Flynn—it’s too much—”
“Too much?” I slam deeper, teeth sinking into the soft skin of her shoulder. “Oh baby, I’m not even all in your cunt.” The desk shudders behind me, wood creaking with every thrust. Her dress is bunched at her waist, her legs pinned opened, trembling under my grip. Every time I drivein, her voice breaks, raw and ruined, yet she doesn’t pull away. She moves with me. She moans for me.
“You’re so fucking tight.” Sweat rolls down my chest. “Milking me already, dragging me deeper. You want me to wreck you, don’t you?” Her lips part, eyes glassy, and she whispers,
“Yes.” That single word destroys me.
I pound into her, pace brutal, hips slamming into hers until the rug burns into her skin and the shadows swallow us whole. I move my hand to her clit, pressing and circling. Her body clenches hard, spasms around me, her cry muffled as I grip her throat hard, forcing her to meet my eyes as she struggles to breathe.
“Look at me while you come. Let me see you break.” Her pupils blow wide, her nails rip into my shoulders, and her body convulses, climax tearing through her in hot waves. The sound of it, the feel of it, rips the last shred of control from me.
I slam in one final time, balls deep, groaning low against her neck as my cock jerks inside her, filling her raw. For a long second, all I hear is our breathing—hers, sharp and shattered, mine, ragged and feral. My muscles quake, sweat dripping down my back as I cage her beneath me, my body still twitching inside hers.
I can’t see anything in this goddamn office except her face in the dark, lit up in flashes like a dream I wasn’t supposed to have. Her cheeks are flushed, lips raw from where I bit her, eyes wide and too fucking quiet.
I hover above her, still half-inside, and for a second I swear I feel the pulse of her heartbeat. I lean down and sink my teeth into the mark I left on her shoulder; when a single drop of blood wells up, I drag my tongue over it, slow and possessive. It tastes like sex and sin, like something I should regret but already miss.
“Flynn,” she whispers, voice small and trembling. My name barely escapes her lips. I lift my head and stare down at her.
“You okay, trouble?” I ask, and before I can stop myself, I lean in and kiss her.
I press my mouth to hers like I need the contact to tether me to this moment, like I’m terrified of what I just did and how badly I already want to do it again.
The kiss ends too fast. She shifts under me, tries to move, and the sound she makes when I slide out of her and her body locks under me drags a chill down my spine. I feel her wince. Her whole body tenses; there’s pain in it.
I open my mouth to ask again, to demand she tell me if I hurt her, but she’s already moving. I try to look at her to see if I left too many bruises or anything on her skin, but the lights are off, and I can barely see past the sheen of sweat and afterglow clinging to both of us like a curse.
She stands up too fast, gasping as she pushes her dress down and stumbles a little. Her gaze drops between her thighs, and I watch the way she freezes before she turns her back to me. Her voice is tight when she speaks.
“Bathroom,” she mumbles, and just like that, she bolts.
I’m still on the floor, half-naked, half-hard, still fucking stunned. The door clicks shut behind her, and I exhale a shaky breath, letting my head fall back against the desk. For a second, I think I might pass out. My heart’s racing. My whole body’s buzzing. I don’t remember the last time I came like that.
Fuuuck.
I close my eyes for just a second and try to steady my breathing.
When I open my eyes, I look around, and I catch sight of the paper napkins by the bar in the corner.
I stand up; my fucking legs shake, and I need to take a breath.
I walk to the bar, but my mind keeps looping the scene like it’s burned onto the backs of my eyelids. Her face, her moans, the way she came, the little winces she tried to hide. I shake my head.
Shit, I’m getting hard again. I grab a napkin and wipe myself down, quick and rough. I need to check on her. See if she’s okay. See if she needs anything. I fucked her hard, and I’m almost certain she’s not used to this kind of sex.
She probably expected something slow and soft. A man who kisses her gently and says a lot of sweet nothings. I didn’t fuck her like that. I fucked her like a goddamn animal.
I can still hear the sound of her skin slapping against mine.
The garbage basket is in the other corner next to the entrance door. I toss the napkin and turn towards the door. When I pull it open, the bright hallway lights hit me hard. My eyes sting, and I look down to shield them until they adjust.
