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We’re both panting. Ace kisses my closed eyelids, then my dewy cheekbone. He licks his tongue across my bottom lip as I slowly return to myself.
The chirp of his email inbox tries to bring us back to reality, but we’re still locked in this pulsing, secret, pleasure-heavy bond.
Holy fuck is right. “I just did it with my CEO. On his desk.”
“You dirty girl. You just got a promotion.”
“Very funny.” It occurs to me then that there’s an office full of people outside that door. Or at the very least, a highly attentive assistant. “I hope that door is soundproof.”
I can feel his soft chuckle inside me and it almost brings tears to my eyes. I should be mortified. I’ve very possibly just thrown my career away in a moment of total abandon. And I’m emotional because he feels so good all I can think about is how much I want to stay here and do it all over again. “It is,” he says.
The comment jars me a little. Why does it need to be soundproof? Does he do this all the time? Did he fuck Rylee on this very same desk? I hate myself for even thinking it right now.
“Hey,” he murmurs, looking down at me almost sternly, like he’s reading my mind. “Kiss me.”
I don’t, because all my doubts and fears and questions are swirling through my head, but he tilts my chin up to him and kisses me anyway. Teasing my mouth open with coaxing licks and nips that make my pussy clench around his barely-softening cock, which slides deeper inside me.
Damn him.
“We need one more orgasm each and then we’ll go back to work.”
“No. I should go.” I push at his chest—and it seems amazing to me that we’re still fully clothed. My skirt is bunched around my waist, my arms and legs are wrapped around him and my panties are long gone, but other than that we’re barely ruffled. It makes our spilling, throbbing connection seem even more erotic, somehow.
And I’m starting to come again.
“One more,” he purrs, gripping my ass with both hands, lifting my hips higher so he can slide even deeper.
“Someone’s been eating their Wheaties,” I breathe.
“That’s not all I’m going to be eating, every fucking chance I get.”
Oh god, I’m really close to coming again.
“You deserve this after leaving me,” he growls. “Hanging me out to dry, lying to me, walking out on me.” He thrusts with each accusation, like he’s making a point, until I can feel that he’s fully hard again.
“Are you Superman or something?” I breathe. “Clark Kent-ing around in your executive office?”
“You could have at least left me your number.”
“I didn’t know if you’d call.”
“Of course I would have called.” Another deep thrust and I am very, very close.
“You really looked for me at the airport?”
“I had them make an announcement over the loudspeaker. But your flight must have already taken off.”
I weave my fingers into his thick hair. I need an anchor. And I want to mess him up. I want to claim him. He’s mine.
He’s reading every squirm and every whimper. His drives are measured and relentless. He coaxes a rising surge. “Come for me, gorgeous girl. That’s it. Can you feel me?”
“I feel you, Ace. I feel everything.”
“That’s my good girl.”
His thick bulk pushes the pleasure to an impossible peak, shattering me again. I cling to him as my inner muscles work his own orgasm with long, tight, silky pulls. He groans like his heart’s being ripped from his chest.
After the waves calm, Ace strokes my hair sort of absent-mindedly. “Tex?”
