He didn’t let up, tongue thrusting inside me, then circling back to the spot that made stars burst behind my eyelids. “Taste like mine,” he growled between licks, voice vibrating against me. Possessive bastard, daring me to deny it. I came hard, thighs clamping his head, biting my own palm to stay silent as waves crashed over me.
But he wasn’t done. Not by a long shot. He rose, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, that sharp jaw set. His cock was out now, hard and thick, straining against his open pants. I slid off the desk to my knees before he could take over, the carpet rough under me, my hands wrapping around his shaft. “My turn,” I muttered, glancing up at him with a smirk, even as my heart hammered from the risk. Because fair’s fair, and nothing shuts up a jealous wolf like a good suck.
He groaned low, hand cupping the back of my head, fingers threading through my hair, not pushing, just guiding. I licked the tip, tasting the salt of his pre-cum, then took him in deep, lips stretching around his girth. The desk edge dug into my shoulder as I bobbed, tongue swirling along the underside, sucking with just enough pressure to make his thighs tense. His belt buckle dangled cold against my chin, a metallic tickle with every shallow thrust of his hips, controlled, but fuck, he was thick, filling my mouth until I gagged softly.
“Fuck, Andrea,” he rasped, voice strained. “That’s it, suck your boss’s cock like you mean it.” His words were crude, possessive, thumb brushing my cheek as I hollowed out, taking him deeper. I hummed around him, the vibration pulling another curse from his lips, my free hand stroking what I couldn’t fit, twisting at the base. Papers crunched under my knees, the clock ticking like a bomb, but I didn’t stop, spit slicking him, my jaw aching in the best way.
He pulled me off with a wet pop after a minute, too long for our timeline, hauling me back up to slam his mouth against mine. I tasted myself on his tongue, mixed with him, as he rubbed his cock against my slick folds, teasing. “Fifteen minutes? Plenty of time to remind you who you belong to.”
I wrapped my legs around him, heels digging into his ass, pulling him in. “Shut up and fuck me.” No time for banter, but my brain supplied it anyway because nothing fixes jealousy like desk sex with a side of HR violation.
He raised one eyebrow, and he stopped moving. I moaned at the anticipation, and he looked at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Say what you want, Andrea.” I bit my lip, tightening my hold. But he wouldn’t put his damn cock in. “Please, put it in,sir,”I groaned out. He smirked, and he thrust in deep, filling me completely, and I arched, nails raking his rolled-up sleeves, those goddamn forearms. The desk groaned, more papers sticking to my sweat-damp skin as he pounded into me. “Good girl,” he said, and the words just undid something in me.
“Does it feel good, baby? Do you like this?” he asked while keeping his rough pace. I could barely answer. “Answer me, Andrea,” he said. “Yes! Yes! I love it!” I screamed. “Now you won’t flirt with another man again, will you? You’re mine, aren’tyou?” he asked. I tried to shake my head. But he wanted an answer. “Yes, sir,” I croaked out.
His hand covered my mouth again, fingers pressing firm, while the other gripped my neck, tilting my head to expose more skin. He bit down on my shoulder through my shirt, teeth marking fabric and flesh, sucking a bruise that’d bloom purple by morning. I met every thrust, hips rolling up, our rhythm frantic and sloppy. His belt buckle dug into my thigh, a sharp reminder of how rushed we were.
“Mine,” he snarled softly into my neck, breath hot. “Say it.”
I gasped against his palm, words muffled but clear enough. “Yours, you jealous prick.” It came out breathy and he chuckled darkly, thrusting harder, hitting the spot that made me see white.
The distant hum of the elevator dinged. Cleaning crew? Fuck. Time was up but we didn’t stop. He pulled out just enough to flip me over, bending me across the desk, ass up. One hand tangled in my hair, yanking my head back as he slammed back in from behind. I buried my face in my arm, biting down to silence the cry, papers crinkling under my cheek. His free hand smacked my ass once, sharp and claiming, then soothed with a grip that’d leave fingerprints.
His cock drove deep, balls slapping against me. He leaned over, teeth grazing my earlobe. “Going to cum inside you, mark you from the inside out. No more flirting bullshit.” Crude, possessive, and I was too far gone to do anything but take it.
I shattered again, pussy clenching around him, and he followed with a muffled groan against my shoulder, spilling hot anddeep. We collapsed there, panting, his weight pinning me as the elevator doors whooshed somewhere down the hall. He pulled out, tucking himself away while I straightened my skirt, papers everywhere like evidence.
“Get back to your desk,” he said, low, eyes still dark with satisfaction. “And tell that courier to fuck off next time.”
I shot him a look, dimple showing despite the mess in my hair. Yeah, because territorial desk sex definitely solved the jealousy problem. But as I slipped out on shaky legs, I couldn’t deny the thrill. Reckless as hell. Worth every damn second.
Afterward I was at my desk, blouse re-tucked, hair smoothed as best I could manage, trying to look like a person who had not just been bent over a desk twenty feet away. My cheeks were still flushed, my hands shaking, and I was pretending to read an email I’d already read four times. I could still feel him everywhere, the press of the desk against my hips, his grip on my hair, the bruise already forming on my shoulder. My body was humming and my brain was somewhere between satisfied and mortified.
He stepped out after, said he needed to grab files from the floor below. He looked flushed too, his tie off-center, his hair not quite right, and I felt a vicious satisfaction because at least I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t hold it together. He caught me looking, jaw twitching, and I turned back to my screen before the look on his face made me do something stupid like follow him into the damn elevator.
The elevator dinged. I looked up expecting him back.
Lorraine stepped out.
Sharp black dress, heels, hair perfectly straight. She walked onto the floor and the second the doors closed behind her, her nostrils flared. Her chin lifted, eyes sweeping the space slow, and then she took another breath and I watched her face change.
I didn’t understand what was happening. She was just standing there in the middle of the floor, breathing, but her expression went through something fast and ugly before the polished mask slid back into place. Her jaw locked, her hand curled into a fist at her side, released.
“Is Finneas here?” Her voice was controlled. Too controlled, like she was holding each word in place with effort.
“He stepped out. Should be back in a few minutes.”
“I’ll wait.”
She didn’t sit. Just stood near my desk, not looking at me, looking at the floor, the walls, the glass door of Finneas’s office. Her nostrils flared again, fist curling and releasing a second time.
“Are you okay?” I asked, because whatever was going on with her was obvious even if I couldn’t figure out the cause.
“Fine.” Clipped. One syllable with a razor edge.
Then she looked at me. Really looked at me, her eyes tracking from my face to my collar, which I suddenly realized might be off-center, to my hair, which I’d smoothed but maybe not well enough, to my hands flat on the desk. My stomach tightened under her stare. I felt like I was being examined under a microscope by a woman who already knew what she was goingto find. Her expression didn’t shift but her eyes went flat, dead flat, like a switch flipped behind them and everything warm drained out at once.
Whatever she’d just pieced together, she did it fast.
