Page 59 of What Comes Around

She moaned and pushed her hips toward me as far as she could with my body pinning her against the desk.

One of my hands slid into her hair. That hair she always kept pinned up as if determined to hide it from me. I had imagined letting it loose more times than I cared to admit, imagined the weight of it in my hands and the way it would spill through my fingers.

One of my recurring fantasies had been pulling every pin free, stripping away that careful control, gripping a handful while I bent her over this very desk. I had told myself it was just a thought. A line I would never cross.

I decided to cross it.

My fingers found the clip buried in her hair. One sharp tug and it snapped loose. Her hair fell at once in a heavy cascade that slid through my fingers like silk.

I closed my hand around it and pulled her head back just enough to feel her breath stutter.

The sight of her like that, the feel of her hair in my grip, the knowledge that she was finally where I had imagined her for months snapped the last thread of restraint I had left.

I was no longer thinking.

Without warning I stepped back and hauled her upright, my grip firm enough that she gasped. Before she could steady herself I twisted her and pushed her forward over the desk. Her hands flew out to catch herself against the surface while my palm pressed hard against her shoulders, holding her where I wanted her.

Papers scattered. Containers tipped. The monitor slid across the desk.

I barely noticed.

All I could see was her.

The videos flashed through my mind again, sharp and poisonous. From them I knew she liked it rough. The thought stirred my anger again. I was punishing her for them. For making me want her. For making me lose control.

Still holding her down with one hand, I shoved her skirt up with the other, my movements rough with impatience. A low sound escaped me before I could stop it.

Stockings. Lace against her thighs.

Her white panties were already damp.

My grip tightened at the back of her neck, keeping her exactly where I wanted her. I pushed her feet apart and stepped between them.

“Don’t move.”

The words came out as a growl.

Her arms stretched forward, knuckles pale as she clutched the edge of the desk.

I pulled her panties aside and brushed my fingers over her bare sex, making her moan.

Waiting was impossible. Every rational thought had burned away, leaving only the need to claim her and erase the images burned into my mind.

I fumbled with my belt and zipper with one hand. I was big. Women had struggled with me before. She was wet, but not enough.

I freed myself and gave a rough tug, but it did not help. Leaning over her, I covered her mouth with one hand. I didn’t want anyone hearing her. I didn’t want anyone interrupting.

I didn’t want anyone taking this moment from me. I wasn’t sure I could stop even if someone tried.

With my other hand I guided myself forward and thrust inside.

At first it would not fit.

Somewhere in the back of my mind a warning tried to surface, thin and distant. I ignored it. All I could think about was having her, taking her, claiming what I had been denying myself for months. The need was blinding, a single, brutal command that drowned out everything else.

I pulled back and drove forward again. And again. Each thrust deeper than the last.

When I was finally fully inside her, my head fell back with a rough groan.