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It was a battle, and our lips were the soldiers, battering themselves against each other. Our tongues clashed, slashing against each other in a hot, swirling form of combat that made my body zing with energy.
I tugged at his suit, hoping to tear something while he yanked at my skirt.
When it didn’t budge downward, he pushed it up in impatience, hiking up one of my legs and pressing me to the door so he could grind himself against me. His lips brushed my neck and I felt him smile his devil’s smile. “Tell me to stop. I dare you.”
“You’re a baby puncher. And I’m not going to give you what you want.”
“No?” His hand cupped me between my legs, making me gasp. “You’re already soaked for me.”
“That was for someone else.”
For a second, I thought he was actually going to laugh, but instead he took me by the shoulder and turned me, pressing my cheek to the wall and forcing my ass against his crotch. “Doesn’t matter who you think any of this was for. I’m taking it.”
A chill spiked across my spine. Okay. Grumpy? Yes. Arrogant? Definitely. Kid kicker? Probably. But his growly possessiveness was a turn on. I had to give him that.
I licked my lips. “I’m only letting you do this to see your face when you can’t make me cum.” The truth was I’d never had a real orgasm with a man before. Some happy little butterflies here and there and a few things in between, but never a true orgasm. They’d left me wanting and unfulfilled, and it was half the reason I knew I was going to enjoy this. Watching Mr. Suit struggle to please me was at least going to feel like a victory.
“I’m not just going to make you cum all over my cock. I’m going to make you wait to do it until you have permission.”
I laughed, except the sound didn’t have quite the authenticity I was going for. His hands were on my hips and my body was pinned by him. I could talk all I wanted, but I knew I was in his control. His power.
I heard the jingle of his belt and felt the shifting of his pants behind me. I closed my eyes, waiting. I had just enough time to take a look in my mental mirror and ask what the hell I thought I was doing. But everything about today was already a shitshow, starting with showing up to this meeting uninvited. It almost seemed fitting that I was about to hate fuck a stranger in a random conference room.
“I hope you have a rubber, or you’re not going near me with that.”
I realized I still didn’t even know his name as he lazily produced a wrapper from his jacket pocket. Charming. I knew I was really scraping the bottom of the barrel when the guy I was about to let inside me was carrying around a personal supply of condoms.
Then again, when you looked like Mr. Suit, having a supply of condoms probably made as much sense as carrying an umbrella around in London.
I braced for him to jam himself unceremoniously into me, but instead I felt both his palms on my ass. I turned to see what he was doing just in time to catch him crouching down behind me and yanking my panties down.
My eyes went wide as he pressed his mouth between my legs and started to kiss and lick the ever-living hell out of me. I tried and failed to dig my fingers into the wall for support. I ended up biting down on my knuckles to stop from moaning in a way I knew would plaster a satisfied smirk on his stupid face.
Yeah. It felt amazing. It was kinda like he was taking his anger out… on my pussy… with his tongue. I mean, if this was the way he vented his frustrations, I guess I could imagine some kind of arrangement where I volunteer to be his punching bag. Especially if the punches would always be delivered by his tongue.
Still, I mustered up the power to stay silent. Every moment I didn’t make a sound only seemed to enrage him further. He slid a hand around and started drawing glorious little circles around my clit, but I only bit down harder on my knuckles.
I was the silent night. I was one of those royal guards who didn’t flinch. I was… Well, I was in heaven, but it was the devil himself dragging me there, and I was pretty sure you were doing something wrong if the devil took you to heaven.
He made a frustrated sound that vibrated straight into me, stood, and fumbled with something. A moment later, I felt the warm silky pressure of his length sliding between my legs. He took my hands—which also meant removing one of my weapons of silence—and pressed them one on top of the other over my head. With one hand, he held them firmly in place. With the other, he gripped my ass.
