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I couldn’t blame him. If what he was saying was true, I was a big-ass monkey wrench in his otherwise smoothly working life plan.
“Then I guess that means I should get going,” I said, feeling like we’d definitely stepped over a line here that neither of us had been prepared to cross.
He nodded, but instead of stepping away, he came closer until there was barely more than a hair’s breadth of space between us and I had to look up to meet his eyes, which had grown noticeably warmer in the past three seconds.
“Yeah, it does, darling, but you’re not going anywhere.” The certainty in his voice sent a shock of heat straight to my pussy.
I’m not sure what had happened to the strong, independent woman I generally was because I don’t think I could have made my feet move in that moment if my life depended on it.The man says “stay”’, and you say “yes, sir”? This is not good, Greta. Not good at all.
And yet, I couldn’t muster up the motivation to move, especially not when he grabbed hold of the hem of my shirt and yanked it off over my head, making it abundantly clear just why I wasn’t going anywhere.
Without any pause, he flicked the front clasp of my bra free and my breasts spilled out.
The sudden cool air made my nipples impossibly harder, but I barely had time to register it before he was reaching for the fly of my jeans. This man was in a hurry, and the way heat pooled low in my abdomen, like a fast-filling lava pool, my body was pretty okay with that. The offended feminist inside me would just have to fuck off and come back to leave a complaint later.
I grabbed Brute’s cut and yanked it off, pulling his fingers away from the fly of my jeans in the process. (Si, that’s right; I could be grabby and bossy too.)
Unfortunately—or maybe fortunately—he managed to get my jeans unzipped by the time I dropped his cut on the desk, and then somehow, he managed to get my jeans, panties, shoes, and his soft, gray T-shirt off so fast, my hands got confused about what they should be doing. They figured it out, though. They made a fast reach for his bare pecs, grazing my fingernails down his nipples and heading for the eight-pack abs that a girl could happily get lost in.
I didn’t make it much further when he slipped his hands beneath my ass and lifted me up onto the desk. The cranky feminist reminded me I so should have objected to being manhandled, but when he stepped between my thighs, unzipped his jeans, and grabbed a condom from his pocket, I told her to shut up.
My mouth watered as he pulled out his cock. He was long and thick and hard, but when I moved to wrap my fingers around his shaft, just beneath the bulbous head, he grabbed my hand.
“Lie back, darling,” he instructed.
I shook my head. “I don’t think so.” I wasn’t missing this show.
He grinned while he ripped open the condom and sheathed his cock.
“Then hold on,” he said, right before he lined himself up and drove in hard and fast.
Holy shit.It wasn’t the first time we’d fucked, but that stretch, that burn. Wow. And the perfect stroke against my G-spot? Un-freaking-believable.
I grabbed on to his shoulders as he withdrew and willed every muscle in my body—or really, just a particular set of inner muscles—to relax. When he kicked his hips again and his cock filled every inch of me, some of the burn began to dissipate and the pleasure of that perfect stroke made my body tingle from head to toe.
“You feel like heaven, darling,” he ground out as he withdrew and thrust again. Then again. And again.
Keeping hold of his shoulders, I leaned back just far enough to watch as his cock disappeared inside me. I thought it went rather nicely off my clit ring; maybe one of the best sights I’d ever seen.
The climb didn’t take long. I’d thought, before, that maybe I’d just gone longer than usual without sex, and that had explained that cataclysmic ascent, but it was coming just as fast. Every thrust drove me higher. The sight of his chiseled body and massive cock; the feel of his fingers digging into my ass, holding me tighter. As strange as it was, even the knowledge that this was going to happen again sped me along. This wouldn’t be the last time I rode his cock or felt his tight ass muscles clenching beneath my calves as I wrapped my legs around him and pulled him closer. Deeper.
Thank god for the old rock music playing out in the main room. I could only hope it was enough to drown out my own sounds, something caught between moans and screams.
I chanced a glance over at the closed door, like I could somehow see through it. But it wasn’t closed.
The door was open, not wide open, just a few inches, but more than enough that I had no doubt every man out there knew what was going on in here and had probably gotten a decent look.
I didn’t panic. Being caught in the middle of sex wasn’t something that would make me panic. Sex was natural, and I wasn’t ashamed of it or my body. What I hadn’t expected, though, was the sharp, hot jolt of arousal it sent straight to the sensitive patch of flesh Brute was stroking with every exquisite thrust.
It made me climb higher. Faster. Knowing Brute’s men were watching him fuck me, claim me… it was more potent than my best vibrator.
But claim me? Since when did I want to be “claimed”?
Do you want him to drag you around by the hair like a caveman too?a very familiar voice taunted in my head.
Smug bitch,I silently hissed back.
But no matter how wrong it should have felt, it didn’t. With Brute’s cock inside me, his arms around me, and no doubt in anyone’s mind who was sending my body on a hard, fast climb to ecstasy, it didn’t feel wrong at all.
