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“I said on your stomach,” he murmured, his breath warm on my skin. “Hands on the edge.” He tugged my shoulder, urging me to bend forward. The surface of the table was cool underneath my skin, and it only sent my body into overdrive. “If you let go, you don’t come.”
It was always a challenge with Matthew. He knew how to press my buttons and how to use them in his favor. He knew I wouldn’t back down from these tests. And in return, he could do everything he wanted with me.
So I gripped the edge of the table, my ass up thanks to my heels. And before I knew it, Matthew was grabbing onto my butt cheek as he positioned his dick by my entrance. Then he froze.
“Matthew, please,” I begged. It was a regular occurrence that I begged for him, and I was more than happy to play my part as long as I got rewarded.
“Because you played so well tonight, consider this your reward.”
Then he entered me in one delicious thrust. His dick was hard and big even though I was soaking wet. A whimper escaped me when I felt him stretch me as my leg rose involuntarily.
“Your pussy is so wet yet so tight, Reagan,” he grunted as he pushed out of me and entered again in one quick move, sending me forward. The desk’s legs scraped against the floor. “All wet for me?”
“Yes, baby. All for you,” I moaned, the sensation too much. I knew I wasn’t going to last long.
He gripped my waist, and he pulled back before slamming into me again. This time, he didn’t stop. He pounded me like he had been deprived of this for months or years.
Skin against skin—sweat, cum, saliva. Everything was interlocked. I could hear my pussy squelched as his huge dick entered me. It was euphoric to hear, and even more euphoric to feel. There was no man like him. No cock like his. No mouth as filthy as Matthew’s.
“You know what I thought about while you played tonight, darling?” Darling. It was darling when he fucked me, Jellybean when he was teasing me, and Reagan when he was pissed. I loved my nicknames from him, but I liked it more when he screamed them.
“What?” I whispered, my stomach flipping as the orgasm lurked nearby.
“You played like you squirted on the piano. So well, so beautifully.” God, the memory of that night was forever etched into my head, and it didn’t help in keeping me upright. “That piano belongs to you now, Reagan. Nobody is going to fucking touch it.”
Mine. Because I had marked it. And no one would ever know but us. God, it was so hot to know that he had imagined me like that earlier. If only I had known that was what he was thinking about earlier.
My hands struggled to hold on, but I adjusted it, and the jewelry I wore clunked against the wooden material.
“Oh my God,” I cried. Matthew’s movement escalated as my pussy fluttered around his dick. “I’m going to come, Matthew.”
“Don’t you fucking dare come,” he growled, bowing down against my body, his weight pressing me harder against the table. Then he whispered to my ear, “Not yet.”
And he thrust deeper, faster—harder. I could feel our wetness running down my thighs as he continued to fuck me from behind. Sweat stuck between our bodies, and it pebbled on my temples.
“I know you’re close,” he grunted, shifting his position. He straightened his back, circled his hands around my spread legs and he found my clit without any problem. God, this man. He was going to be the death of me.
“Matthew, please.” He rubbed me there, my body hypersensitive and hyperaware of his warm touch. My legs shook from the sensation, and a shiver went up my body as the orgasm drew near. “I need to come.”
He was silent for a minute, matching the pace of his fingers with his movement inside me. And I squirmed under him, gasping for air and sobbing in delight. I squeezed the edge of the table harder. I wasn’t going to let go, not when I was this close.
But my knees weren’t built for the type of pleasure. They trembled once again, stronger this time. And even Matthew knew that my body wouldn’t be able to support me. So he grabbed my arms, telling me to let go of the table as he spun me and directed us to the carpet of the floor.
I didn’t care what was happening. I trusted him, and all my body wanted was to get to the point of release.
Now Matthew was on top of me and I lay on my stomach beneath him. My hands were flat on the floor as I let my boss do all the work.
Then Matthew barked, “Come, Reagan. Come for me.”
And I let go, my entire body shaking at the swift orgasm that washed through me as Matthew’s kept fucking me through the rapturous climax. My teeth chattered, my legs shook, and in victory, I brought my hand towards the delicate dip of my back atop my ass, longing for a touch.
Like clockwork, I felt Matthew lock his warm hands around my trembling ones and thrust into me one last time before he turned us to our side, his dick still in me. I craned my neck for a kiss, which he gave, before planting a kiss on my shoulder, my neck, and then my cheeks.
We stayed like that for a moment, before he pulled out from me. I whimpered at his absence. His touch still lingered as he stood, stark naked for me to see, as he went to get the champagne. He popped the bottle, and with no glass whatsoever, he offered me the bottle.
It was time to celebrate a little more.
Chapter thirteen
