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“Leave us. Hold my calls,” I stand up and force myself to look at her.
I figured she would be angry and resolute, her corporate lawyer mask in place, but she looks pale and drawn. Her eyes are red and puffy, shining with tears.
I frown, taking a step in her direction. She must feel sorry for me over what she is about to do and how it will affect me. Her pity makes me feel even worse. I just want to break something, break everything, and then go to sleep for a year.
She is breathing as heavily as if she ran up all thirty-five floors of stairs to get here instead of taking the lift. “Devon…”
I take a breath, gulping down air that grates at the walls of my throat like sand. “Let’s get this over with,” I say, my voice cold and measured.
She tries to take one of my hands, but I take a step back.
“I’m sorry, Dev. I did not mean to—”
I cut her off immediately, my posture even more rigid now. “Don’t. Please don’t say you’re sorry, okay? Just tell me and go.”
She nods her head. "All right then, I'll tell you, and then I'll leave you to your all-important work in your fucking Batcave, Bruce.”
I scowl at her, not in the least appreciating her attempt at joking in such a moment.
“Lynn, just say it. No sense in dragging this out.”
She puts her hands on her curvy hips, and I feel a familiar tug in my groin. Great, just great, she is about to break my heart. I'm fucking miserable, and yet I still wouldn’t mind fucking her one last time.
“Fine, I will tell you nice and quick, you stupid fucker. I love you.”
My head snaps back up. “What did you just say?”
Lynn huffs, literally stomping her tiny, sneaker-clad foot, and then she comes closer, shaking her head. She stands in front of me, our bodies a breath away.
“I… love… you… you… fucking… fucker,” she speaks slowly, punctuating each word with a poke of her finger at my chest.
I blink a couple of times, unable to utter a single sound besides a groan as I pull her in my arms, nearly crushing her. Relief washes over me as I lift her from the floor, and my mouth goes for hers.
Iama fucking fucker. She is right. When she told me we needed to talk, I immediately assumed the worst, and instead, she only meant to tell me what I'd been waiting to hear for the last five years. I usually love being right about things, but I couldn't be more glad to be wrong this time.
I sit her on the edge of my massive desk and peel my lips from hers. I need to hear her say it again. "Tell me, baby. Tell me one more time."
She smiles brightly up at me, her hands going for the buckle of my belt and then the zipper of my slacks. “I love you, you huge, stubborn fucker.”
I pin her down until she is lying on the desk. “I love you too, sweetheart. I’ve never been happier than I am right now.”
Lynn gives me a saucy, little grin as one of her hands pulls my already full-mast cock from my trousers. “Think about how much happier you’re going to be inside me in about sixty seconds.”
She is so right!
I don't think we even wait for sixty seconds. Her jeans are around her ankles, her bright pink panties are in tatters on the floor, and my cock is stretching her pussy open way before we hit the mark.
“Damn, I love how wet you are for me. Take it all, my love. Yes, just like that. Give me more of your sweetness.”
She moans, frantically pulling me down on her as I fuck her hard and fast, making the heavy desk slitter back on the floor.
I groan in frustration. Fucking her is the most pleasurable thing in the world, but it’s not enough right now. I wish I could touch her pussy, taste it and fuck it at the same time.
I'm pounding savagely inside her, my cock leaking cum in her well-loved cunt. She grasps at the edge of the desk and holds onto one of my forearms for balance.
“I want you to get deeper. I want to put my legs around you, love,” she moans desperately.
“Whatever you want, baby.”
