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I held his shoulder with one hand and slid the fabric of my panties aside with the other, guiding just the tip inside me, where I could feel myself slick and wet, ready for him. I moved my hand to hold his other shoulder and he thrust up into me, impaling me as he held me in his strong arms.
“Oh God,” I cried, surprised to hear my own voice break and fragment, sounding exactly like I was seconds away from falling to pieces—and I was. With Oliver’s hands under my ass and his thick hard cock inside me, filling me totally, I had the sensation of completion, and I cried out, overwhelmed by it.
“Yes, baby,” Oliver was crooning gently in my ear. He pumped his hips, moving me up and down over his length with an easy strength that made me feel small and protected at once. I used the muscles inside me to grip his length, trying to fight for an ounce of control as he pushed into me hard, over and over again. “Good girl,” he crooned.
“Come for me, baby.” Oliver slowed his pace, sliding in and out in an erotically lazy motion, every part of me gripping him as he moved, creating a delicious friction that pushed me closer and closer to the brink.
“Fuck,” Oliver groaned, setting me down on the edge of the desk again. I braced myself with my elbows and took in the sight of Oliver’s chest, his mouth open as he ground into me, his strong arms flexing as he gripped my hips and pulled me into him. He cursed again and my head dropped back, my back arching to let him in farther, to give him more access. I wanted every last inch of him inside me, and I wrapped my legs around him again, pulling hard to take him all in, to hold him there, to hold on to that delicious sensation of fullness.
My mind had taken flight. I was no longer thinking about our meeting with MLB, or about the fact that this was my boss buried deep inside my slick wetness as Igasped and moaned for more. I wasn’t worried about whether I might be doing anything unethical, whether my plan was going to suffer, or if anyone might walk in on us in this very inappropriate use of company spaces. I just knew that I felt complete, with Oliver buried deep inside me. I was complete, and beyond that, I was happy.
I couldn’t get enough of him as I pulled my legs against his thighs, trying to pull him closer, to swallow him whole. “God, that feels good,” I moaned, both wanting to make the moment last and much too close to the edge to try to prolong things. I wrapped one arm around Oliver as he leaned over me, pulling his mouth down to mine as he began to pound into me harder, bracing himself above my head with one arm.
I gave in to an urge to reach a hand around to land on Oliver’s firm ass, and slip it around far enough to reach my fingers to cup his balls as he moved above me. My legs were around the small of his back now, and he was pounding me into my desk in a very literal way, over and over.
“Fuck, duchess,” he moaned, and he froze for a split second. I actually felt him harden inside me, his iron-hard cock turning to pure stone as he retook his rhythm, moving harder and faster than before. “Fuck,” he groaned again. “God, you’re fucking amazing, Holland,” he whispered in my ear as I moved my fingers over his balls, feeling them drawing up close to his body as his breathing increased to match my own desperate gasps. “Such a good girl, so fucking good.”
The steady pressure that had been building inside me wasclose to exploding, and I could feel every muscle in my body tighten in advance of the eruption I knew was coming. “Oliver,” I whispered, “Oh God, Oliver!”
And then it happened. I felt myself shatter into thousands of pieces as Oliver continued the hard pounding rhythm, each stroke pushing me higher and higher as I felt myself spasming around his taut body. And within seconds of me letting go, I felt him go rigid as he cried out, “Fuuuuuck!” He thrust into me a few more times, grunting with each movement, and then he collapsed over me on the desk, his face turned to me with a broad smile on the beautiful full lips. “You. Are. Fucking. Amazing,” he said.
I wasn’t sure I could form words, so offered him a smile instead, as I felt like I slowly came back to myself, returning to my body from a great distance.
Oliver kissed me once more, a slow languorous kiss that was both sweet and passionate at once, and then he eased himself up to his feet and returned me to a sitting position. “Welcome to your new office,” he said, grinning and looking at me from underneath those thick lashes.
“That was quite a christening,” I told him. “I hope you don’t celebrate all employee promotions this way, Mr. CEO.”
“Only yours,” he promised, kissing me again.
I spent the remainder of a very surreal week trying to learn the responsibilities of my new job. I’d still be working with the sales department, but instead of making fearful reports to Trey about the accounts I was trying to land or keep, he’d be making reports to me. It was a strange turnabout, but I couldn’t pretend to be unhappy about it. Trey and I would basicallywork as a team, matching potential sales opportunities with developers who could help iron out the technical aspects of applications and new implementations. It was a formal solidification of the way Oliver and I had worked together. Minus all the sex.
By Friday I’d moved my things from my cube and accepted the confused congratulations of my colleagues in sales. Pamela had been less confused.
“Totally deserved!” she had gushed, bursting with excitement as she flew into my office. “I’m so excited for you!”
“Thank you,” I said, still feeling overwhelmed. “You helped a lot, you know.”
She nodded and winked at me. “I’m sure it was all about the schematics I got for you.”
“It was,” I told her.
“Are you excited?” she asked. “Oliver seems to think the world of you.” She said it innocently, and for a minute I considered telling her everything.
“He’s . . .” I trailed off. It wouldn’t be right to tell her, and I didn’t know what I could say about him that wouldn’t reveal feelings I didn’t even understand myself.
“Let’s get a drink and celebrate soon,” she said, heading for the door again.
“Yes,” I agreed. “Oh, hey . . .” I called, and she paused in the doorway.
“How’s Kenner doing in school? How are you?”
She smiled and stepped back in. “It’s better,” she said. “He’s really happy, actually. And I’m doing better.”
“That’s good,” I said.
She left and I looked around me, feeling in many ways like I’d been dropped in the middle of someone else’s life.
When I had a quiet moment, I called Delia. We had missed our Wednesday dinner this week because of a conflict with a school event. I’d told her about the promotion, in a text and a couple of messages, but we hadn’t gotten to really talk. “I don’t even know where to begin,” I told her. “So much has happened in less than a week!” Over the next ten minutes, I told her every aspect of my encounters with Hale-slash-Oliver, and it was gratifying to be able to share with someone.
