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I gasp.
And then his mouth is on me, and I lose the ability to think. He’s moaning as he eats me out, stopping only to murmur things likeMineandGood girlandYes, sweetheart, just like that.
When he slides his fingers inside me, I lose control and grab his hair, holding him where I need him as he ruthlessly destroys my world. Until the pleasure can’t build anymore, and I tumble over the edge, gasping as I come.
I blink, dazed, as Cole pulls back and rises to his feet, letting the cool air rush in between us.
“That wasn’t for me?” I ask. He may have destroyed my last functioning brain cell, but I’m pretty sure there’s no way he enjoyed that more than I did. I don’t think anyone’s ever enjoyed anything more than I just enjoyed Cole eating me out.
He presses his thumb against my bottom lip, and I can smell myself on his hand.
“Trust me,” he says. “I’m selfish in bed. You’ll enjoy yourself. But at the end of the day, you’re my treat. Understand?”
I wrap my lips around his thumb and suck.
His breath hisses, like he wasn’t prepared for that.
He moves his hands to my hips. I’m suddenly reminded that I’m entirely naked and he’s entirely clothed. Maybe Iamhis plaything.
God, why is that so hot?
The sound of a zipper makes my mouth go dry. He pulls out his stiff, gorgeous cock. “Now where were we?”
My mouth waters. He gives himself a stroke.
“I’ll give you a hint,” Cole says. Another stroke. “You were bent over my desk, ass in the air. Like you needed to be fucked good and hard.”
I think I nod. Maybe I just think about nodding. Mostly I’m having impure thoughts about my boss’s cock inside me.
“Is that what you want, Amelia?” Cole prompts. “To be fucked good and hard?”
“Yes,” I breathe.
“Then get back in position.”
He gives me just enough room to slide off the desk, turn my back to him, and bend over the desk. Behind me, Cole moves his legs between mine, nudging me wider. Guiding my torso lower, until the tips of my breasts sway against the cool desk. I’m deliciously exposed, and still tender from my last orgasm. I feel his cock nudge against my opening.
And then he swears. “Shit. Condoms.”
“I’m on birth control,” I say. “And clean.”
Cole murmurs a grateful, profane blessing. His fingers circle my clit, and I’m so sensitive I shudder just from that touch. Then he adds. “I’m clean too. But if you don’t want to risk it—”
“I trust you, I trust you, please,” I gasp, as his touch on my clit turns rough, fast. I feel hot, wet, restless, empty. I already know when Cole makes me come again—lets me come again—it’s going to be another full body experience.
I get the sense Cole wants to play a bit longer. But I’m wound so tight I can’t stand it. So I arch my back, grinding against his hard cock.
It must feel good, because his control snaps. His hand leaves my clit, and then I feel his cock, hard and nudging at my entrance. It’s tight at first, and he whispers, “Relax,” against my neck, and then I do, and we fit, and it’s so, so good. He wraps his hand in my hair and tugs, just rough enough to make me arch the way he wants. I catch my own reflection in the dark window, stunned by the filthy beauty of the scene. Cole’s riding me from behind, one hand in my hair, the other palming my breast possessively. I’m helpless and hedonistic, lost in my own pleasure.
I’m drunk on the mounting, pressing pleasure as he rocks and thrusts. His hands move to my hips, so that he can hold me in place as he hits harder, deeper. When I lift one hand from the desk to gently brush my clit, it starts a spiral that doesn’t end until I’m coming on his cock, gasping for breath, his name on my tongue.
Cole follows shortly after, his pleasure ripped from him with a brutal groan. I watch his reflection in the window. He looks like some ancient god. The sight of Cole Ashford coming should be immortalized in oil paintings and marble. He’s that beautiful.
Then he’s collapsing on top of me, boneless and heavy, his breath tickling against my ear.
After all the tension of the last few weeks, we’re finally in the exact same place. I want to stay in this moment as long as possible.
But he moves off me. Without him covering me, the room feels cold. I turn around and half lean, half sit on the desk.
