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He threads his fingers through my hair, tugging me closer—if that's even possible. My hesitation evaporates like mist under the blaze of his touch. There's no space for doubt when every cell in my body screams his name.
"Abby," he growls, our lips parting only to steal quick breaths before crashing together again. "You're killing me."
"Good," I pant, my voice laced with a challenge. His hands map the contours of my body with a possessiveness that sends shivers down my spine. With each brush of his fingertips, he claims territory, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
Without missing a beat, he hoists me up, and papers flutter to the floor as we make room amidst the scattered office supplies.
The cool wood of the desk presses against my back, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from Merrick's body as he leans over me. The edge digs into my skin, but it's nothing compared to the urgency of his kisses, deep and demanding, as if he's trying to memorize the taste of me.
"Fuck, Abby." He breathes the words over my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there, sending a jolt straight between my legs.
"More," I urge, arching into him, desperate for contact. Our clothes are a frustrating barrier, but not for long. He makes short work of the buttons on my blouse, his gaze darkening at the sight of lace beneath.
"Jesus, you're beautiful," he murmurs, and it sounds like a confession—one that has me spiraling into bliss.
"Show me," I whisper, feeling bold and reckless under his intense scrutiny. I'm drunk on Merrick, on the sheer force of our connection that turns the mundane office into an erotic canvas.
We improvise, our movements unrehearsed but perfectly in sync. A stapler clatters to the floor, forgotten, as he lifts me onto the photocopier, the glass cold and strangely thrilling against my heated skin. The whir and click of the machine adds a bizarre soundtrack to our escapade, a reminder of where we are—a place of business turned den of indulgence.
"Look at us," he commands, flicking the machine on. And we do. The greenish light of the copier casts a surreal glow over our entwined bodies, capturing this moment of pure hedonism in black and white.
"God, Merrick," I moan, as his mouth descends once more, his tongue tracing the line of my collarbone. Each stroke is a word unsaid, an emotion unfurled—raw, unedited passion that knows no bounds.
"Tell me what you want," he demands, his voice thick with lust.
"Everything," I reply without hesitation. "I want everything with you."
And that’s all it takes for Merrick to completely snap. He thrusts inside me with a roar and fucks me furiously.
“Fuck, Abby.” He breathes these words across my neck, teeth scraping against hypersensitive skin there, electrifying a shockwave that courses straight to the very core of me.
“Merrick!” I gasp out his name as he hits something deep inside me that makes my eyes roll back in my head.
"Jesus, you're exquisite," he pants, a confession that spirals me into euphoria.
And then something explodes deep inside me, and I’m shattering, clinging to him as I cry out.
“Yes,” he croons. “That’s a good girl. Yes, baby, let me feel that pussy come all over my cock. Oh fuck.”
He plunges into me harder and faster and then he groans as he releases his seed into me in a spurt of hot warmth. He holds himself deep inside me as he continues to pulse until I feel his cum trickling down my ass.
Panting, my back pressed against the cool surface of the desk, I watch Merrick straighten his tie. His chest heaves slightly, but unlike me, he doesn’t seem to be grappling with an onslaught of emotions.
"Wow," I breathe out, trying to steady myself, feeling the sticky evidence of our liaison cooling on my skin.
"More than 'wow,' Abby," Merrick says, eyes gleaming as he steps closer, his hand reaching out to brush a lock of hair from my face. "That was fucking incredible."
I should be basking in the afterglow, but instead, a tide of shame washes over me. My gaze drops to the floor, where a few scattered papers serve as a reminder that this is not a bedroom—it's an office, and I've just crossed a line I can't uncross.
"Hey." Merrick tilts my chin up, forcing me to meet his eyes. "Don't start second-guessing this."
I want to argue, to tell him we've made a mistake, but his thumb traces my bottom lip, and for a moment, I'm lost again.
"I... We can't just—" I stutter, my voice a mere whisper, betraying the whirlwind of emotions inside me.
Merrick's laugh is low and carefree, filled with the kind of self-assurance that only someone like him possesses. "To hell with everyone," he declares, his arms encircling my waist, pulling me flush against him.
"But you're my boss," I manage, the words feeling hollow even as they pass my lips. "
