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“You came to my office for this, did you not?” he asks, pumping his fingers into my body. I feel myself climbing higher and higher, inching towards the glorious cliff that’ll send me flying.
“Yes,” I gasp. “I needed to be with you. I couldn’t wait any longer.”
“Then, who am I to keep you from what you want?” he asks, pinching my nipple and rubbing his palm against my clit. The friction sends me soaring high above the clouds. The orgasm slams into me with force. My legs get weak as my body gyrates against him, silently begging for more.
I don’t have to ask. He knows.
Leaning forward, I take a moment to catch my breath as he removes his hands from my body. The sound of his zipper, the removal of his pants, and the ripping of the condom wrapper are as loud as my breathing, and my body responds instantly.
“This is what you wanted?” I feel him step up behind me, his cock rubbing against my butt cheeks.
“Yes,” I pant.
“I would never deny you this,” he says as he pushes forward and into my still-pulsing pussy. From behind, I feel every inch of him as he slides inside, all the way to the root.
A hearty groan is the only response I give as I push back against him, taking him as deep as possible. My brain is officially no longer connected to my mouth, and I realize it the moment I start spouting off things I normally wouldn’t say if it weren’t for the blissful state of euphoria spreading through my body.
“You can come Saturday night,” I whisper as he gently slides almost the entire length of him out and then slams back inside.
“Yeah?” he asks, grinding against me when he’s fully seated once more.
“Yeah. All of the guys usually show up by the end of sisters’ night, even though they’re not supposed to.”
Again, he pulls out, but this time slides in slowly, deliberately, and almost painfully. “You want me there with your sisters’ guys?”
I should shut up, but I can’t. “Yes.”
“Where?” Dean grips my hips tightly but pauses his movements. My body craves him, needs him to move, to give me the release that’s imminent.
“Please move,” I beg, trying to push back against him.
“Where?” he commands, holding me still and not letting either of us move.
“The Beaver. We’re doing some sort of pottery class in the back room.”
“And you want me to be there when you’re done with your class?”
“God yes,” I groan, my inner muscles tightening around his cock, as if begging for more.
“Don’t do that,” he groans, still holding me completely hostage.
“What? This?” I flex my muscles around him, resulting in another moan.
“Yes, that. Stop it or Cora is going to hear us when I slam into you and make you come so hard you see stars.”
“Yes. That. Do that.”
“Make you come hard and see stars?”
A foreign noise slips from my lips, and I’m not sure it’s an actual word.
“You have to be super quiet, honey, or she’ll come in and check on us.”
Again, I make a noise, but it’s a noise of relief as Dean slides out and back in to the hilt. My body starts to shake and I feel myself bearing down on him. His grip is tight, and I’m sure I’ll have marks on my hips for days. That’s okay. The idea of being marked by Dean doesn’t bother me in the least.
“Jesus,” he grumbles, quickening his pace as the finish line stands before us.
With one deep thrust, I shatter into a million pieces around him, soaring high above the clouds, never wanting to come down. He follows, driving into me from behind with force before stilling and shaking. Dean bends over and places open-mouthed kisses along my shoulders before resting his head against my back. My legs are worthless, refusing to hold me up. His weight is heavy as he relaxes, pinning me between the desk and his body.
