But I wasn't finished. I worked my boxers down, freeing my cock — thick and throbbing, pre-cum slick at the tip. Stepping closer, I rubbed the head along her slit, teasing her entrance. “Are you ready for this? Tell me you want me to fuck you from behind, press you into this desk until you can't think straight.”
“Yes,” she breathed, arching against me. “Do it. Make me feel every inch.”
I gripped her hips harder, spinning her around to face the desk. “Bend over,” I commanded, voice low and firm, my palm pressing between her shoulder blades to guide her down. She complied eagerly, chest flattening against the cool wood surface, ass lifting toward me as her hands braced on the edges. Papers crinkled under her, but neither of us cared.
“Like this?” she asked, glancing back over her shoulder, that goading spark in her eyes. “Am I doing it right, Doctor?”
I pressed my body against hers from behind, my erection grinding against the cleft of her ass, one hand tangling in her hair to tilt her head back slightly. “You're asking for it, Anya. I'm going to fuck you so hard against this desk you'll feel it while you’re running vitals in Trauma Two next to me tomorrow.”
I gripped her hips, bruising my fingers into her soft flesh, and thrust in deep with one brutal stroke, burying myself to the hilt. She cried out, the desk creaking as her body jolted forward. I held her there, pinned, my weight pressing her chest deeper into the wood. “Breathe through it,” I murmured, voice strained with the effort to hold back. “That's my cock filling you up, splitting you open. So tight — fuck, you take me so well.”
The feel of her around me, clenching and wet… and I almost made a fool of myself. I stilled for a moment, running tidal volume calculations in my head to keep from losing it right then.
She moaned, rocking her hips against me, and I started moving — pulling out slow before slamming back in, setting a punishing pace. My hips snapped against her ass, skin slapping loudly, the desk rattling with each impact. One hand stayed on her hip, the other slidup her back to press her down harder, her breasts flattening completely, nipples dragging against the surface.
“Harder,” she moaned, voice hoarse, twisting to look at me. “I think you can give me more, Vaughn.”
“Greedy girl,” I grunted, leaning over her to increase the pressure, my chest against her back as I drove deeper, the angle letting me hit that spot inside her that made her walls flutter. “Like this? Feel how deep I am? Tell me how it feels, sweetheart.”
“Don’t you dare stop, Desmond.” Her words were breathy, punctuated with little groans.
I wrapped my hand around her throat from behind, squeezing just enough that I could feel her pulse race under my fingers as I pounded into her. Sweat slicked our skin, her ass cheeks rippling with every thrust. “You're mine right now,” I said, breath hot against her ear. “Taking my cock so deep, bent over like this. Gonna make you come again — squeeze me until I fill you up.”
She bucked back against me, meeting my rhythm, her breaths ragged. Her hand curled around my wrist, steadying herself. “Yes — rougher.Please.”
I released her throat to grab a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back slightly as I fucked her relentlessly, the desk groaning under the force. Her second orgasm hit hard as she clenched vise-like around me, pulling me over the edge. I thrust deep one last time, groaning as I came, hot spurts of cum flooding her insides, spilling out around my cock as I kept pumping through it.
We stayed like that for a moment, both heaving, my body still pressing hers into the desk. Slowly, I pulled out, watching my cum drip from her swollen pussy down her thighs. I helped her straighten, turning her to face me, and grabbed tissues to clean her up, my touch gentle now.
“Are you okay?” I asked, brushing a strand of hair from her flushed face, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.
“Yeah,” she smiled, legs shaky but eyes bright. “Better than okay. That was... intense.”
I nodded as I helped her redress, the weight of what we'd done settled in — the forbidden thrill mixing with the risk. But for now, in this sealed-off office, it felt worth every boundary we'd shattered.
Chapter 11
Anya
By the end of the shift, it wasn't exhaustion that weighed on me.
It was awareness.
Every movement carried it. The way I shifted my stance at the workstation, the way my thighs protested when I stood too quickly, the way my pulse answered to nothing at all. My body felt tuned differently now, like someone had tightened a string inside me and left it humming.
I tried to focus on the ordinary things. Charting. Orders. The glow of the monitors. The familiar choreography of the ER as night gave way to that thin, gray-blue morning.
Butnothingerased him.
Des moved through the department with ruthless composure. He hadn't touched me since. Hadn't looked at me like he had earlier. If anything, he was more restrained now; his voice measured, his presence immaculately professional.
And still — I felt him everywhere.
One time. No promises. No expectations.
When I leaned against the counter, heat bloomed low and deep,uninvited. When I bent to pick something up, my breath stuttered, the memory rising sharp and inconvenient. I pressed my lips together and kept going. This was part of it. This was the cost of having wanted.
We crossed paths near the trauma bay just as the sun crept higher, light slanting through the windows and stripping the night bare. He passed close enough that the air shifted, that I caught the clean, familiar scent of him — soap and coffee and something steadier beneath it.
