“I told you to stop.”
“I heard you,” I breathe.
“I will give you every bit of pleasure you have in this office. Understood?”
Instead of answering, I reach between us and palm his cock roughly. Stroking it up and down, I grin. “Understood.”
He bends forward and plants his mouth against mine. This time, there’s nothing sweet or easy about it. Like a man that hasn’t kissed a woman in years, he moves against me so frantically, so fiercely, I’m breathless.
He draws my dress over my head and tosses it to the side, our lips only breaking long enough for the fabric to pass. I succumb to the relentlessness of his kisses, feeling myself weaken against him.
My ass squeaks against the glass as I’m guided towards the edge with a forceful hand on the small of my back. Silky strands of his hair slip through my fingers, and when I tug on a handful of locks, he finally breaks our kiss.
Our breathing ragged, my lips stinging from the delicious assault, he grins wickedly. “Lie back.”
His palms resting heavily on my thighs, squeezing them in an almost massage-like fashion, I do as instructed. Through the haze, I mention I’m on the pill and hear him respond, although the specific words are a blur.
Lying before him on his desk is the most vulnerable I’ve ever felt. My entire body is on display, stretched out like an agreement to be manipulated. A flash of unease begins to rip through me, but when our eyes meet, it subsides as quickly as it came.
His breathing is as intense as mine, the hunger in his eyes burning as hot as the desire spreading like lava through my belly. But there’s something else, a quiver in the cerulean blues of his eyes, that quells the anxiety of being studied by a man of his caliber.
“God, Mallory,” he almost whispers, a slight shake of his head accompanying it. His finger touches the side of my face, the pad rough against my skin. He blazes a trail down the side of my neck, across my chest, and over the ridges of my stomach.
I see him swallow as he grabs his cock with one hand, my waist with another. He scoots me closer to the edge, his eyes turning wild.
If he can’t hear my heartbeat, it’s nothing short of a miracle. I can hear it pushing red-hot blood through my body, elevating my temperature and need, pure need, to the boiling point.
His tip touches my opening, parting me just enough so I know he’s there. I gulp, my eyes flipping to his face just in time to watch a slow, indecent smirk touch his lips.
“Come on, Graham,” I beg through clenched teeth, gripping the edge of the desk until my knuckles turn white.
“Come on you? Or you want to come?” He swirls his hips, teasing me with his cock.
“Stop with the semantics,” I say, wrapping my legs around his waist and inching him closer to me.
He laughs, clearly enjoying my frenzied state. “Maybe I could just stop altogether and kiss you. That’s what you wanted, right? Maybe this is a little overboard.”
“Fine,” I say, starting to sit up. “Give me a kiss and let me get to my date. I’m sure he’d be glad to—Ahhh!”
My breath leaves me in a quick, hasty gush as he fills me completely. My legs shake around him, my eyes fluttering closed as I hear him chuckle.
“What were you saying?” he asks cheekily. I don’t get to respond before he slides out of me, the head of his cock stretching my opening, before he slips into me again. “I can’t hear you.”
“God,” I moan, tilting my pelvis to give him more access to every piece of me.
His hands find my waist and guide my body off and on his. His length pushes through me, splitting my body open in ways it’s never been pushed, kissing the back wall of my vagina.
It’s a decadent, wonderful feeling—almost painful but not quite. His speed hastens, his movements more decided, as he deepens his thrusts.
“Graham,” I warn, my body squeaking against the glass. A thought begins to tickle my mind, wondering if anyone can hear us or see us through the windows. Just as that panic begins to settle in, his fingers squeeze me harder as he rocks himself against me.
My arms fly to the side, his stapler crashing to the floor in an unceremonious thump. In and out, he slides through my wetness, my thighs coated with how badly I want him. Need him. Need this.
“Open your eyes,” he demands, kicking up the tempo another notch. It’s nearly unbearable in the most blissful way. Everything is louder—my body against the desk, his against mine. Everything is hotter—the sex-scented air swirling around us, his cologne as it’s heated from the sweat dotting his forehead. Everything is just more as I lose control and my knees drop to the side. “Eyes, Mallory. Open. There’s no visualizing shit but me right now.”
When I do open them, his are nearly burning a hole through me. I fight the urge to close them, to relish in all the feelings sparking through me like a fire show.
I release a moan, much louder than I anticipate. “Graham, I . . .”
He smirks again, the pad of one thumb hitting my clit. He rubs small, firm circles against the overstimulated bud and it’s like a match has been struck. There’s no going back.
“I can’t . . .” I suck in a breath of air, rocking my legs back so my knees are bent in the air. He pushes me towards the end of the desk as he buries himself in me over and over and over. “Graham!” I shriek, knowing I shouldn’t, given the situation, but I’m in a state of total helplessness.
My body riots, tightens around him, a part of it wanting to desperately pull away and the other wanting him to slam into me harder—none of which I can vocalize. I just feel the burn, enjoy the explosion and the feel of his cock swelling as he pushes one final time.
I force my eyes to open and watch him lose control. As I fight the end of my climax, I watch him come apart inside of me.
His head thrown back, his mouth hanging open, is so, so sexy and causes a ripple of orgasm to course through me again.
My legs quiver involuntarily as he groans into the air. I try to hold myself in place for his benefit, but my body is too tired. My hips fall back to the desk as he opens his eyes and slowly pulls out.
We catch our breath, me still on the desk and him standing before me like a man that just conquered the world. Now, post-climax, I’m more self-conscious.
As quickly as I can, I swing my legs off the desk and stand on my shaky stems. I avoid his eyes, even though I know they’re on me.
Tucking my boobs back into my bra and finding my dress on the floor, I finally raise my gaze to his. “That was better than a kiss,” I say with a smile. I leave him standing in the middle of his office, his jaw hanging open, as I head into the bathroom I saw him go into earlier. As the lights flip on and the door closes behind me, I fall against the wall breathless.
Graham
IT TAKES THREE TRIES TO get my belt secured. I don’t even attempt my tie.