I reach forward and gather her hair. All those dark curls into my fist, and pull back just enough to arch her further, to open her up, and she moans so loudly that I feel it in my balls.
"Yes—" she breathes. "Yes, like that…"
Her back is a perfect curve, and I watch my cock disappear into her again and again and the sight of it pushes me to a pace I probably shouldn't sustain but absolutely will until one of us gives out.
Her hands scramble against the desk corner. Her moans shift pitch—higher, more desperate, the rhythm of them breaking apart into something incoherent and I know what's happening.
"That's it," I tell her, low and close to her ear. "Cum on my cock. Right now."
She obeys with the enthusiasm of someone who has been waiting a very long time.
Her whole body shudders, contracting around me so hard that my rhythm stutters, and I have to plant my feet and hold on. She writhes through it, hips rolling, thighs shaking, face turned sideways against the desk surface with her mouth open and her eyes rolled completely back.
Beautiful. She is completely, thoroughly beautiful.
I fuck her through every wave of it without slowing. She grips the desk and takes it and keeps moaning and I could do this forever.
But I want more. I want to see her face.
I pull out, and she makes a bereft sound that I feel in my chest. I grip her hips, scoop her up. She's not light and I don't care, I could carry her anywhere, and put her on the desk, facing me this time.
"Now," I tell her, stepping between her spread knees, "I want to look at you."
She looks up at me, flushed and breathless and thoroughly wrecked, and smiles. Slow and real and trusting, and she spreads her legs wider in invitation.
I don't need a second one.
I step forward and point my cock at her entrance, and she's so wet, so completely ready, that I barely have to push. I slide in, and her head drops back, and I watch her.
All of her.
The soft roll of her belly as she adjusts to my size. Her breasts moving with every thrust, full and heavy and perfect. I reach up, cup both and she covers my hands with hers and presses them harder against her. Her thighs frame my hips.
I've never thought of a woman's body as something to look at, truly look at, with any kind of appreciation beyond the functional. I'm ashamed of that now. I'm ashamed of every encounter I rushed through in the dark.
This woman in this light deserves to be looked at.
"I've never—" She gasps as I angle deeper. "Never been—" Another thrust cuts off whatever she was going to say. "No one has ever fucked me like this—"
"Get used to it," I tell her, bracing my forearm on the desk beside her hip, finding a deeper angle, watching her face fall apart with it. "Because this is only going to get better."
"That's—" She laughs, breathless, incredulous. "That's better than impossible—"
She reaches for me. Arms coming up, trying to pull me down, closer, wanting my weight against her, and I can feel her trembling with the effort of it.
I step forward, close the distance, lower myself until her breasts press against my chest and her breath is warm on my face and her arms can finally wrap around my neck properly.
Something clicks.
That's the only word for it. Something that has been loose and rattling around in my chest for years, maybe always, slides into alignment with a click I feel in my sternum.
Her hands on my back. Her breath against my jaw. Her body wrapped around mine in a break room in a casino in Las Vegas while the world continues outside the locked door.
*Click.*
"I'm going to cum," I manage, my voice stripped down to nothing. "I need to—I should—"
I move to pull back, because I'm not the kind of man who makes assumptions—
