‘I need. . .’
So goes my litany of pleasure as my climax, white hot and intense, explodes between my legs.
And the last thing my sentient mind processes?
‘That’s it. Ride my fuckin’ face.’
Flat against the polished surface of my desk, I open my mouth to speak when the feel of him at my entrance steals my breath. Steals my breath, then forces it out from my chest as he thrusts inside. I’m so wet my body offers no resistance, and in that one push, we’re how he wanted us to be.Skin to skin.
‘Fuck!’ As my body pulses around him, Flynn dips his knees, and if I’m not mistaken, grits his teeth against the pleasure. ‘Ah, what this?’
The very particular tone of his voice brings my head up from the desk. I groan, a sign of desire and distress, as Flynn’s studio sequence flickers to life on my computer screen.
‘You beautiful, dirty girl. Have you been watching me fuck my hand this week?’
‘Just once or twenty times,’ I whisper, pushing back against him as onscreen Flynn undulates, his hard cock in his hand, and I shiver from pleasure as the now Flynn flexes his thighs against mine from behind.
‘Oh,God,’ I whisper, or maybe groan—quietly—as he moves back, then into me again oh-so slowly. He’s so large on screen, holding himself in two hands, and so large inside me.So impossibly hard. How can I be quiet? How can I take this without any noise?
‘You’ll take it,’ he grunts. ‘Take it all. You like watching me wank.’ The roughness of his expression and the grunt in his tone makes my inside pulse. ‘Tell me,’ he adds urgently—Tell. Me—timed with his thrusts.
‘Yes!Yes, I like watching you.’
‘Have you touched yourself?’
‘Yes! In the chair. In my bed, with my laptop between my legs.’
‘Did you come?’ My eyes go wide as he thrusts so hard I almost kiss the screen. ‘I-I can’t. Can’t speak.’
‘Yes, you can,’ he says, as though prepping me for a race.You can do it!
‘I-I can’t concentrate when you’re inside me.’ My words are garbled, my hands sliding across the desk to grip the sides.
‘If I can keep one eye on the screen and one on my cock between your legs, I’m pretty sure you can fuck and talk.’
I shoot him a glare over my shoulder, ignoring his near silent chuckle as he delivers another flex of his hips.
‘Tell me about this.’
‘Y-your expression,’ I admit. ‘I’ve never seen anything so sexy. I-I think I might have an issue because I keep re-watching the bit where you bite my knickers as though you’re out of your mind.’
I recall the absolute beauty in his need. The craving I felt for him. The absolute certainty that I could come for him. My fingers as they slid on my clit as I’d reached the place that had been hiding from me.
‘Fuck, yes!’ he hisses, grinding against me. ‘I am out of my mind. Out. Of my. Goddamned mind. For you.’ He punctuates each of his words with his hips, then lifts my face to meet his to deliver a punishing kiss.
‘Oh, God,’ I gasp, as he releases my chin, his arm sliding around my body, his fingers slipping between my legs. I’m wet—so wet—I can hear it in the meeting of our bodies. Feel it as it aids his slide and coats my thighs.
‘Shush.’ How canthatsound amused? And how? Is there such a thing as silent fucking?
‘No... one... listening...would be fooled... into t-thinking were we’re... doing anything else o-other than... f-fucking!’
‘It’s what we do best, my dirty little fuck doll.’ I narrow my eyes even though the humour rings clear in his tone.
‘Listen,’ his voice rumbles, his body going still. Footsteps sound in the hallway—high heels on the wood. From under the doorway, the light cuts out as though someone is standing on the opposite side.
I bite my lip so hard I might taste blood as Flynn makes aVwith his fingers, sliding them from my clit to between my legs, touching me and touching himself. I’m so swollen, the pressure of my orgasm making me fit to burst. My eyes roll back, my muscles trembling, taut and tense, everything centred between my legs and pulsing with my silent release.
Flynn doesn’t move or speak as my body throbs around him. And as the heels draw away, I lie my cheek on the warm surface of the desk, preparing myself to take what he has to give, again and again. One solid thrust. Two. Then a third before his thrusts speed up, the sound of skin slapping and his sharp grunts and rough groans twisting my pleasure higher somehow. It’s like an agenda change; from something good to something absolutely necessary as he works himself deeper and faster inside my body until, finally, he stifles a long, rough groan by pressing his mouth against my neck.
