Dash smiled, the mischief in the expression sending curls of pleasure through Emerson. “It looks even betteroff.”
After jerking his pants lower, Dash spun Emerson to face away from him.
“Bend over.”
A wave of need struck Emerson square in the chest. He closed his eyes, dragging in a strained breath. He lowered both palms to the smooth surface of the desk and walked them farther—until he was fully bent, ass up. Glancing over his shoulder, he watched as his mate sat down in his oversized executive chair, taking in the view.
Dash didn’t notice him looking. His molten gaze was pinned to Emerson’s backside. Emerson turned back around, pressing his forehead to the cool surface of the wood as he struggled to contain his need.
Emerson jolted at the first contact of Dash’s warm palm over one globe. Dash squeezed and kneaded the flesh there, molding it to his hand. Arching his back, Emerson sighed with pleasure as the gentle massage moved to the other side. When Dash spread Emerson’s cheeks and leaned closer, the anticipation of what came next nearly robbed him of breath.
He won’t…
Dash’s tongue was so hot it felt like he’d been singed by it. Emerson gasped, but not from shock. It was pure pleasure that robbed his lungs of air. His mate licked a path from the underside of his balls and up towards his hole. Emerson slowly writhed against the edge of the desk; his cock leaking and trailing precum over the surface.
But he avoided Emerson’s hole, as expected, licking everywhere but.
The second Dash spread his tongue over the rim, Emerson groaned, pleased to have been wrong. As Dash laved the entire rim, Emerson’s eyes widened at just how good it felt.
Emerson fought a moan through the onslaught but couldn’t keep it down long. A low rumble exited his lips. It only seemed to urge Dash on. He greedily licked, forcing several more moans from Emerson’s lips.
Dash pulled back, using spit-slickened fingers to tempt Emerson’s hole, rubbing the tender flesh there. Emerson moaned when a fingertip slipped inside, the slight sting of pain causing him to wince.
“Deeper,”Emerson growled, surprised he’d said it out loud.
“I don’t have any lube,” Dash murmured, a hint of disappointment in his voice.
Emerson grinned. “Reach into my pants pocket.”
Dash leaned over and rooted through his pockets until he found a small tube. “You cameexpectingsex—after all you got the last few days?”
“I didnot,”Emerson replied, fully serious.
One of Dash’s brows arched.
“Thereareuses for lube outside of sex, you know?”
Dash’s brow went higher.
“I’m serious. I used some this afternoon and forgot to toss it back in my desk drawer.”
“Convenient.” Dash grinned, snagging it. “You need to remind me to stock some in one of my drawers for next time.”
“Plan on fucking me on your desk often?”
Dash chuckled, the deep tenor of his voice caused the short hairs on the back of Emerson’s neck to stand up.
“I work latea lot.I suspect you’ll spend many a night draped over my desk.”
Emerson shivered at that news. He grinned at Dash over his shoulder. “As long as I get to take you over it, too.”
“Get your own desk,” Dash said, winking.
“Oh, I have one…”
The rest of that sentence drifted from his lips as he watched Dash fill his palm with lube. Lifting his gaze to toss the tube onto the top of his desk, it met Emerson’s. With a wink, he grinned, just as wicked as before. Another tremor raced down Emerson’s spine and he fought another moan.
Dash leaned closer and spread some of it on Emerson’s tight bud, sinking one finger in to the knuckle. “A bit tight… we’ll have to work on that.”
