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She pressed her cheek to the cool surface of the desk, her heartbeat loud in her ears. Donovan coasted his hand over her hip and she froze. “Wait.”
His hand instantly stilled. “What’s wrong?”
“Condom.”
He let out a breath. “Oh, thank God. I thought you wanted me to stop. I’ve got us covered. Or me covered as the case may be.”
“Well, someone was sure of himself.”
He dipped his hands between her thighs and stroked. “No, I keep them in my wallet like a good Boy Scout. I promise this wasn’t the plan. The plan tonight was to drink the night away—not to fuck a smart, beautiful girl over her desk in the esteemed psychology department. This is a way better plan.”
She shivered, anticipation and nerves washing over her. She wished she could see him behind her. She’d imagined him naked many times, and now she wasn’t going to get the chance to see the real thing. But the second he parted her legs and nudged the head of his cock against her entrance, all other thoughts dissipated. Every molecule in her body centered on that one spot of connection.
Fear washed through her—cold and quick. This would probably hurt. She tried to brace for it.
But then he backed off and something hot and wet pressed against her instead. Her knees almost buckled. “Oh, God.”
Donovan’s mouth. Donovan’s mouth was on her. The sensation of it was like nothing she’d ever experienced—every nerve ending in her body standing at attention and then sighing all at once. Her legs quivered as his tongue moved over her, coaxing and teasing her clitoris, making her loose and languid with the pleasure of it. Making her so wet she could die. Holy fuck. This is what oral sex felt like? She’d really been missing out. After a few more glorious licks from that masterful mouth, his fingers tucked inside her again. “That’s it, beautiful. Just relax and feel everything.”
He pressed another openmouthed kiss to her flesh and then pulled away and positioned himself behind her again. Unlike before, she had trouble accessing the fear. Her body was throbbing with this distinct emptiness, this need to be filled. She didn’t care if it hurt at this point. She just wanted it to happen. But when he pushed forward with a gentleness that belied his harsh grip on her, there wasn’t the expected pain. Just pressure. Tightness. She gripped the edge of the desk as the head of his cock breached her. The stretching sensation was foreign and a little uncomfortable, but she was so slick and ready for him that it eased the way.
She was beginning to feel confident—until he reached resistance and stopped. His hold on her hips tightened. “Baby, you feel so good, but I feel like I could hurt you. Are you okay?”
She wasn’t sure. The feel of him partially inside her was making her restless and edgy, like she needed more of him. But the anxiety over what would happen if he pushed forward had her muscles coiling. She licked her lips. “I’m okay.”
He ran his hand over her side in a soothing motion. “You have to let me in. You’re tensing on me. I don’t want to hurt you.”
She took a deep breath. “I’m trying but . . .” Shit. Shit. Shit. “Just go for it, okay? You won’t hurt me.”
She hoped.
He seemed to hesitate for a moment but then she reached back for him, gripping his arm. “Please.”
He thrust forward and pain shot through her—one sharp, shining moment. Her teeth clacked together, but she managed to hold back the sound. He held there a moment, his length deep inside her, and she breathed through it. Soon the pain faded to a dull throb, and she was left with this new feeling of fullness. She let out a breath.
“You all right?” he asked, grit in his voice.
“Great.”
“Mari . . .”
She heard the question in his voice, the concern.
“Please. Don’t stop.” She rocked back against him.
He groaned and pulled back to pump inside her again. This time there was no pain, just residual tenderness and the sweet glide of his body joining with hers. She let loose a sigh. He adjusted his position behind her and reached beneath her to find her clit. His fingers against that sensitive nub made any last remnants of discomfort fade into a memory.
“Fuck, Mari. You’re . . .”
The words were lost in the rushing sound going through her ears. She let her grip loosen on the desk and melted into the position. Donovan was making his own noises now—these sexy grunts and groans that were the hottest soundtrack she’d ever heard. And the sound of the sex itself was driving her higher still—slick and lewd and raw. She’d imagined what this would be like, but she’d never realized how all-encompassing it was. The feel of his thighs bumping against hers, the scent of their exertion and arousal, his rough fingers stroking her soft flesh. Every part of her seemed alive with sensation, her senses dialed to eleven.
“I’m close, baby.” His voice had gone hoarse, strained.
They were the simplest and sexiest three words she’d ever heard.
His hold went to her hips and he dragged her back on his cock now, his pace hard and intense, his need overriding all else. She could feel all that anger and hurt he’d been dealing with channeling through him, the jagged edges coming out, the need to wail on something. And it was glorious, cathartic in a way she didn’t understand. She slid across the desk, a rag doll to his strength, and her mind begin to fuzz. The pressure on her clit from the edge of the desk was driving her up another mountain.
She let loose a choked cry when orgasm crashed over her again, and he yanked her roughly against him, burying himself deep over and over until he pulsed inside her, a string of curses falling off his lips as he found his release.
