Page 26

Instead, it feeds it.

Spit and precum pool in my mouth, and rather than swallow and risk the noise, I let it drip quietly onto the carpet beneath me.

“Good work,” Lev says, and the two words split cleanly in half, one meaning for her and one for me. The secret thrill of it is brand new, and it curls low in my belly and refuses to leave.

“That will be all,” he says. The heels click away, the door closes, and the office falls silent again.

His chair rolls back. He slides out of my mouth, and the hidden game is over.

He hauls me up by the arms and slams me down onto the desk on my back, and papers scatter everywhere. There is nothing gentle in the change. His mouth crushes onto mine while he shoves my shirt and bra up in one motion, baring my breasts to the cool air. His thumbs circle my bare nipples until they draw tight and aching and hard.

I gasp into his mouth, and the ache between my legs climbs.

“Look at you,” he says against my lips. “So soft, so fucking wet and responsive. Shaking already, and I’ve barely touched you.”

He kisses down my body and closes his mouth over one nipple, and my back bows up off the desk. His hand slides down over my belly, shoves my skirt up to my hips, and presses hard against my pussy through my soaked panties. I nearly come apart on the spot.

“You are soaked through,” he says, rubbing slow circles over the wet cotton. “Did sucking my cock while she stood right there do this to you?”

Shame floods me hotter than it did before. The clip of her heels, the professional voice, the game none of them knew about, all of it clenches in my belly.

“Filthy girl,” he says, and drags my panties down my legs. “You loved every second of it.”

I cannot say a word against it. My body has already confessed for me. I’m dripping down my own thighs and there’s no lying about it.

He frees his cock, thick and heavy between us, the head glistening wet. “Watch,” he orders, and spreads my knees wider. “Watch me split your tight little pussy open on my cock.”

I look down and watch his cock push in, and the stretch is immediate and obscene. My tight body gives way for him one slow, splitting inch at a time.

The sight of myself opening around him is too much, and everything in me pulls taut.

“Relax for me,” he growls. “You are so tight I can barely move.”

I cannot relax, caught somewhere between the burn and the pleasure of his dick splitting me open.

He drives forward hard and buries his cock to the root. I curse and dig my nails into his forearm, the sting and the obscene fullness braiding together into something I have no name for.

“Fuck,” I gasp.

I curse into the stretch. He catches my jaw and forces my eyes open onto his. “Where are you going to run this time?” he asks, low and cruel, and the memory of slipping out of his bed at dawn lands in me like a dropped stone. He pulls almost all the way out and slams back in. His hold on my hips is pure possessive, filthy heat.

“Lev,” I cry, and his name bounces off the glass walls.

“Say it again,” he orders. “I want the whole fucking floor to know exactly who’s buried inside you.”

He sets a punishing pace, each thrust shoving me further up the desk. His hands roam everywhere, kneading my hips and my thighs and my breasts as though every soft curve of me is his to learn by heart.

“These hips,” he says, gripping hard enough to leave marks. “You take my cock so fucking perfectly.”

The filthy praise and the brutal rhythm shove me toward the edge. My elbow knocks a pen holder off the desk, and I don’t even register it fall.

“Touch yourself,” he orders. “Play with your tits.”

My hands obey him before they ask me first, pinching my own nipples, and my slick walls flutter around his cock.

“That is it. So fucking tight and wet around my cock.” He bites down on my neck. “Are you going to come all over my cock for me? Are you going to soak me?”

I try to answer and only manage a broken string of sounds. The pressure builds past anything I can hold in.