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But then his hand was tangling in my hair, yanking until the pain across my scalp forced me to move back, to look up at him.
He kept pulling, forcing me to move back over him, then to lower down as he put pressure on my neck.
He sealed his lips to mine then threw his body over, rolling me under him as the kiss got harder, hungrier.
Then he was shifting back, taking me with him to sit off the end of the desk as he got to his feet beside it, reaching into his pocket, producing a condom, then slipping it on before sealing his lips to mine again.
My hands roamed up his arms, down his back, sinking into his ass. I pulled him closer as I placed my feet at the edge of the desk.
His hips moved in, his cock pressing against my cleft as he rocked against me, driving me half-crazy with need before I felt him moving down, pressing against the entrance to my body.
He surged inside of me, taking every inch, both of us breaking apart from the kiss with matching gasps as my walls tightened around him, as he settled deep.
There was no light teasing, no feeling each other out then.
My legs wrapped around his hips, my hands reaching up to grab his arms, and he started to fuck me.
Hard.
Fast.
Relentless.
Driving me up through an unexpectedly fast orgasm before placing a hand on my shoulder, and pressing me flat on the desk again.
Reaching back, he unhooked my legs from his hips, pulling them forward. He pressed a soft kiss to the inside of my ankle before yanking my legs up, and placing them on his shoulders as he started to move again.
A little slow at first.
Giving my body a chance to recover, to start to get needy once again.
His hands slid down my thighs, one of them staying planted on my knee, and the other slipping between, teasing over my clit, reigniting that flame, making my hips rock as he continued to thrust into me.
“Fuck,” Sway hissed as my walls tightened around him. “You feel so good.”
My whimpers grew as he fucked me, as his finger worked me, driving me up up up, then sending me crashing down once again, my walls clenching his cock over and over, making him let out an almost pained groan.
“One more,” he demanded, reaching for my hips.
“I can’t,” I said, breathless, my body almost feeling like it was buzzing from all of the orgasms.
“Yes, you can,” he told me, grabbing my hips, yanking until I had no choice but to follow his lead as he turned me, as he yanked up one knee, planting it wide on the desk as he moved in behind me, then slammed inside, making me let out a choked moan at the sensation that was almost painful with how sensitive I’d become.
Then his hands were roaming over me again, up my thighs, over my ass, squeezing a little before moving around to tease up my belly, then cup my breasts.
His fingers worked my nipples into points again as my sex started to tense, started to crave the movement as he stayed stubbornly still inside of me.
One of his hands drifted down, slid between my thighs once again, teased around my clit, but refused to make direct content.
It wasn’t long before I was grinding back into him, silently begging for that friction, for that release.
His other hand moved back, grabbing my hip, seeming to hold me in place as he started to fuck me.
Fast.
Faster.
Getting harder with each thrust, making the table grind against the floor, making my moans get louder with each passing moment as I hurtled toward the cliff.
Sway’s finger finally found my clit, teasing over it as my walls tightened hard, as he drove me right to that edge, then sent me flying over it, my body weightless with release.
“Fuck,” Sway hissed, fucking me through it, then slamming deep and coming on the tail-end of my orgasm.
I collapsed forward afterward, rolling onto my side, breathless, spent, body racked with little aftershocks.
Sway’s hand moved up and down my leg for a moment before he walked over toward the trash.
When he came back, his pants were in place, but he hadn’t bothered with his shirt as he reached for me, pulling me with him as he lowered into the chair.
“I don’t think this can hold us both,” I objected as it made a creaking noise, as if agreeing with my statement.
“Taking my chances,” he said, arranging me sideways on his lap.
“I think everyone downstairs must have heard us,” I said, wincing.
I was so accustomed to being alone, to never having connections, that I’d never really worried about people overhearing me having sex then needing to face them again.
“Half of them are out,” he told me, reminding me of the rumble of bikes I’d heard. “The others won’t give a fuck. We’re all adults.”
