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I plop the box of cookies on top of a pile of papers before opening it and snagging one. Chip watches me closely as I take a bite, and then everything other than the cookie in my mouth ceases to exist.
Jesus Christ. She wasn’t lying when she said she makes great cookies. The edges are slightly crispy, just enough to crumble on the tongue, and the middle is soft and melty. The chocolate-to-cookie ratio is perfect, and I think my eyes roll back into my head as I let out a groan that sounds carnal as fuck.
She grins at me and asks, “Good, right?”
I nod, because my mouth is having an orgasm that I’ll never recover from. Once I finish swallowing the last bite, my fingers twitch with the urge to go in and grab another one, but I stop myself, trying to show some self-control.
You can’t eat a dozen cookies in one sitting. You’re too old for sugar-induced stomachaches.
I pull the rolling chair away from the desk and scoot it closer to Chip. “Here, you can sit. Let’s start going through papers. Anything you think I should keep, make a pile, and I’ll go through it before choosing to chuck or toss.”
She tries to scoot by me, but there’s not enough room without me turning sideways. Just as her shoulder brushes against my sternum, she turns and looks up at me. She shifts slightly so the front of our bodies are pressed together, and the tension in the room ratchets higher.
Her eyes are on my mouth when she says, “You’ve got a little something,” and points to her mouth.
“Get it for me.”
Her thumb traces the bottom of my lip, and I can’t stop my tongue from darting out and tasting her.
“Hm.” A breathy moan accompanies the dilation of her brown eyes, and this close, I can see the golden flecks in them burn brighter.
Without thinking, I put my hands on her shoulders and drag her harder into my chest before crashing my mouth against hers.
The taste of her, something tart with chocolate, makes me damn near dizzy as I slip my tongue against hers. My hands leave her shoulders and come up to frame her face, the feel of her silky skin enough to make my cock jerk behind the zipper of my jeans.
With my body crowding hers, I twist us until her ass meets the edge of the desk, and with my foot I kick the door shut behind me, intent on taking my time with her.
Her hands come up and trace up my abdomen and chest, and I arch into the caress like a cat looking for love from its owner.
Jesus, God in heaven.
Our tongues tangle and lips wage war to get a deeper taste, to imprint something of ourselves on the other.
I let go of her face and skim my hands down her sides until I reach the hem of her sweater and my hands slip under. Breaking the kiss, I mumble against her lips, “Is this okay?” She was pretty adamant about not going faster than she wanted, and I won’t chase her off by being a Neanderthal, no matter how badly I want to drag her back to my cave.
“Yes. More,” she says before reaching up and dragging my head back down to hers.
I bring my hands up to her breasts, savoring the journey to get there. The heat of her skin is impossible to ignore against my cooler fingers. She’s like a flash fire in my hands, burning me in the best way possible. Lace meets the pads of my fingers, and I swipe my thumb over the pebbled rise of her nipple.
“Fuck. Imp,” I rumble against her mouth. One of her legs lifts off the ground, wrapping around my thigh, and she grinds against my dick so hard I see stars shoot across my vision.
“War.” The plaintive whine from her snaps the wavering hold I have on my self-control, and I thrust against the center of her. The motion has her scooting back against the desk, and something crashes to the floor behind her. I don’t know what it was, and I give zero fucks about finding out as the center of her meets the center of me.
Heat seeps from between her legs through the denim covering my cock, and I press harder against her, moving faster and faster while pinching her nipple.
One of my hands leaves the haven of her skin to wrap around her back and tuck her closer to me. I use the leverage to pull her into my thrusts, and an orgasm builds at the base of my spine.
Wanting to watch her unravel, I back off from the kiss. Her eyelids are heavy and nearly closed as I pull my other hand from under her shirt and press it to her clit under her yoga pants. Her hips jerk against my touch, so I know I’ve got the right spot and start to press firm circles around the bundle of nerves.
“You’re so fucking beautiful like this. Riding my fingers. Using me to make you come.”
“Oh God.” Her hips circle and shift against me. A tremble starts in her thighs, and she’s about to come undone.
I switch to using two fingers to make a V at the top of her mound and press hard while squeezing them together. The added friction has a breath gusting from her followed by a low moan. The sound makes the hair on the back of my neck stand at attention.
“I’m close.”
“Come on, Imp. Come for me. All over my fingers. Drench my hand.” I bite the words out through clenched teeth, the iron bar of my cock begging for relief behind the fly on my jeans. But this isn’t for me; this is for her.
