He grabs my hips and yanks me back toward him so suddenly, my fingers scrabble for purchase on the smooth wood, sending papers scattering off the edge of the desk to the floor.
The blunt head of his massive cock presses against my wet pussy. I try to jerk my hips, desperate for him and everything he’s promised to give me.
“God, you’re impatient.” He chuckles, a dark, low sound that reverberates through me. “I fucking love it.”
And then he’s driving into me. Not slow and controlled, but in one, sharp thrust, burying himself to the hilt, stretching me wide.
I cry out, my forehead hitting the desk as he bottoms out, his hips flush against my ass. He’s so big. Even after all the times we’ve been together, my body still has to work to adjust to his size.
“Fuck, Lilly,” he grits out. “You're perfect.” His grip brushes my hips as he holdsme for a moment, giving me a second to adjust. ‘You’re so fucking tight. Squeezing my cock. So fucking perfect.”
He starts moving then, slowly at first, letting me feel every ridge of him as he pulls almost all the way out of me before driving himself home once more, my tits crushed against the hardwood surface.
I cry out, my hands searching for something to hold onto as he continues to drive in and out of me, setting a steady rhythm, each thrust driving the air from my lungs over and over again.
“You feel that? The way my cock fills every inch of your sweet pussy, Lilly?”
A groan slips from my throat, and I feel my own juices slide down my thigh. The sharp contrast of his filthy words with the controlled, businessman version of him heightens every touch, every thrust.
“You were made for me, sweetheart. You were made to take my cock. Weren’t you?”
When I don’t answer right away, his hand twists in my loose hair. He uses it to tug my head up, straining my neck, lifting me so my tits are exposed. He uses his free hand to wrap around me and cup my breast. His fingers find my nipple, pinching until I cry out, my legs going weak beneathme with all the sensations crashing through me.
“Tell me,” he commands. “Tell me how you were made for my cock, how fucking perfect my cock fills you up.”
Vaguely, I register the line we’re crossing, but I can’t stop the words, just as I can’t stop my climax from building, starting to blur my vision with the waves of sensations starting to slam into me.
“Yes,” I whimper. “Fuck yes.” Instinctively, I try to drop my head, but he tightens the grip, holding me in place as he assaults my body with pleasure. “Yes, Luke,” I cry, louder now. “I was made for this. For you.”
“Yes, you fucking were.” With one more pinch of my nipple, he releases me, letting me fall to the desk top again, my hands catching me just as he slams his cock into me again.
His hand is between my legs now, rubbing fast, tight circles over my clit, and my vision starts to darken around the edges as Luke drives me further and further to my release. “That’s it, Lilly,” he says, his voice low and dangerous. “You like it like this, don’t you, sweetheart? You like me fucking you like this on my desk, don’t you?” I groan in response, because Ido.“You’re going tocome all over these neat and tidy files, Lilly, aren’t you?” Again, I groan. It’s all I can manage.
“Fuck yes, you are.”
My thighs burn with the effort of meeting his thrusts. My mind is a white-hot blur, nothing else exists except the two of us, this moment, and the wicked pleasure coiling so tight inside me, I’m sure I’ll explode.
“Come for me, Lilly.” He pinches my clit, just right, and then I’m doing exactly that. My orgasm hits like a bolt, spiraling through me hot and fast. I scream out as I come completely unravelled.
He’s right behind me, following me over the edge seconds later, filling me with thick, hot pulses as I milk him dry.
I’m not sure how long we stay that way, before Luke gently releases me from the desk, lifting me up and into his arms, he sits in his chair holding me until I catch my breath.
Slowly, reality seeps back in. My mind is still hazy, my vision just a little blurry as I slip out of his arms and glance around at the scattered mess of papers on the desk and all over the floor. My heart’s pounding, not just from the exertion, but from the terrifyingrealization of how hard we just crossed the only line we had left. I can’t meet his gaze.
I focus on gathering my clothes instead, sliding my blouse on, and tugging my jeans over my hips.
Behind me, Luke moves, the quiet sound of him getting dressed filling the space where words should be.
If there was anything we could say that wouldn’t change everything…
But there isn’t.
So neither of us says a word.
My pulse is still racing, but for reasons that have nothing to do with what just happened.
Because there’s no pretending this didn’t mean something.
