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I gasped the moment I felt hot, damp skin against my entrance. “You… you locked the door, right?”
The stretch hit before my mind caught up with it. He pushed himself almost halfway in, giving me a moment to breathe, to accommodate him. He was thick enough that my fingers didn’t touch when I’d held him, and even though the burn felt good, it was still a burn.
“Do you not trust me?” he teased, slowly lowering me to the desk and using one arm to push my knees higher. He sank further in, nearly to the hilt, forcing a moan out of me that I don’t recall every making before. “Do you honestly think I want someone walking in on this?”
I couldn’t think straight. I needed him to move, needed him to drive himself into me, needed him to touch the little bundle of nerves that was crying for attention. “I-I don’t know,” I stuttered. “You didn’t care in Hawaii.”
“You were still dressed in Hawaii.” Achingly, slowly, he dragged himself out, just the tip still inside, before sinking in with his full length once again. The fog hit. “I don’t want anyone but me seeing what’s beneath my little plaything’s clothes.”
If I had any sanity left, I should have used it to fight him on that. But all that came were little whispers in the back of my mind, telling me I was making a mistake, that I was falling into the goddamn trap I’d practically laid out for myself. I’d regret this. I’d regret it as soon as the night ended, as soon as my head hit my pillow and I gave it all a second thought. But in that moment, I didn’t care.
I just needed him to fuck me.
“Hunter,” I bit out, reaching up to him and digging my nails into his bare chest. The hard lines, the ripples and cords of muscle, every bit of him was pure temptation bottled into one man. It wasn’t fair. “Please.”
“Goddammit, you say that so prettily.”
The force he drove into me after saying that was enough to shake the desk beneath us. My head fell back onto his mousepad, the cushion a welcome sensation against my tender skull. I could die happy like this, filled with him, warm hands all over me, the blistering pleasure he somehow unleashed.
My hips reacted in time with his as much as they feasibly could. It was hard with the rigid surface beneath me, but I met him every step of the way, letting my body move the way it wanted to. His thumb slid across my clit, just a tease, but I nearly screamed at the intensity of it.
“Fuck, Lottie,” he grunted. He grabbed my jaw with one hand, his finger against my lower lip. “You look so good on my desk.”
I grinned up at him. All sense of control was gone, all morality out the window. “Keep me here, then.”
“Keep you here?” he laughed, dragging his hand down from my jaw and wrapping his fingers around my neck. He was gentle, careful, but holy shit that made the adrenaline in my system increase twofold. I grabbed him by the wrist, half to make sure I could break his hold if needed and half to reassure him that I wanted it. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Naked and dripping beneath my desk, not making a fucking sound. Ready to be fucked whenever I needed a release. Putting that stubborn mouth to good use for once.”
Every word he spoke was dripped in filth. In practice, that sounded like my worst nightmare, but when he said it while buried inside me fucking me so hard I could almost see heaven, it sounded like a dream. In those moments, I could understand why he was such a playboy. It made sense why women were so eager for him, even if he’d drop them like a bad habit afterward. I was slowly finding myself becoming one of his groupies.
He loomed over me, one hand on my throat and the other playing too gently with my clit. I whimpered, bucking my hips at him, desperately trying to gain more friction. He gave it to me, and immediately, my release was in sight. His fingers tightened at the sides of my neck, and I dug mine into the soft spot of his wrist. A warning. He was careful, though, and didn’t put a lick of pressure against my windpipe. I could still breathe.
“Do you want to come, Lottie?”
“Fuck, yes.”
His chest shook as he groaned, his eyes fluttering closed for just a moment before they were trained on me again. The pressure was building as I rocketed my way toward orgasm. I gasped desperately for air, my back arching hard . Only when I was right there, hanging on the precipice, staring down the burst of pleasure, did I open my mouth again.
“Please, can I?—”
“Come for me, Lottie,” he rasped, releasing my neck to cover the entirety of my mouth.
Thankfully, he did. A scream tore from my throat, muffled by his hand, as pleasure ravaged my body so intensely that I wasn’t sure where I was for a second. He thrust into me through it, dragging it out as long as he could, practically torturing me with my own ecstasy.
And then the tether broke.
My body shook, and somewhere in the haze he must have finished inside of me. I could barely register what was happening as he wrapped me in his arms, lifting me from the desk and against his chest. I felt empty, and I realized he’d pulled out at some point.
“Hey, hey, you’re okay,” he cooed. Placing his thumb gently beneath my chin, he tilted my face up to look at him. Everything was fuzzy, like I was somewhere in the back seat of my mind watching through a pinprick. “Deep breaths, Charlotte.”
I focused on my breathing, feeling the cool air enter my nose, the warm air exit my mouth. He held me against him as he gently brushed my hair away from my face.
“You did so well with that,” he breathed.
“Did you… ?”
Hunter nodded. “You squeezed hard enough to push me out, though,” he laughed, cupping my cheek and leaning down to press the lightest of kisses against my lips. “Are you okay?”
“I think so.” The more I breathed, the better I felt. My vision cleared and he came into focus, all soft lines and heavy lids, pupils dilated so wide I could barely make out the green around them. “You’re not really going to force me to live under your desk, are you?”
