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I’m wet. So damn wet.

He groans again, pressing his erection into my navel while still kissing me, claiming me like I never have been before.

I’ve never felt so out of control before.

When he clicks the lock on the handle of the door all bets are off and I lose all sense of myself. I lose all sense of time and what I came here to say to begin with.

I forget his life and mine. I forget my morals and his. All I can think about is having him in a way I’ve been telling myself I don’t want him for far too long.

His hands desperately pull my skirt up, his lips still on mine, his breath coming from his nose. It gathers at my hips and he lifts me, wrapping my legs around his waist, still kissing me as though terrified if he stops, I might change my mind. I’m not sure I have the strength to change anything anymore.

Mr. Conti is my personal form of heroin and I’ve become addicted from the first hit.

He sets me on his desk, holding my thigh so I keep it hooked around him. I tug on his tie until it’s dangling. I grip both ends and use it to hold him closer to me as he frantically grasps at every part of my body that he can reach.

He tastes divine, better than I could have imagined, and his hair is so soft.

I start working on the buttons of his shirt and he shrugs it off, leaving his toned and glorious chest bare to my viewing pleasure. I break the kiss and stare into his eyes for a moment, we’re both breathing heavily, lips swollen, hair a mess, eyes mirroring the pleasure we feel just by being free with each other after tearing down boundaries that should always be there.

When neither of us say stop, neither of us find the strength to end something that never should have started, he starts on the buttons to my shirt, undoing them slowly, one by one, revealing the white lace bralette that only just contains my round, shapely breasts.

His hands push my shirt open and his thumbs stroke over the swells of my breasts, lightly tickling the points of my nipples which are solid and poking through the sheer material.

He dips his head to kiss the curve of my breast, and then the other. I shiver, it feels so nice. I want him to kiss me everywhere. His large hands massage and manipulate them in a way that shoots straight to my sex.

I can hardly breathe.

He looks up at me again, and while kissing me softly and tenderly, he reaches for my hair, unwinding the knot so it spills down my back in a thick wave. I groan when he teases it free and starts to remove my shirt until it’s on the floor by his.

I lean back on my hands, feeling thoroughly worshipped when he dives and kisses my ribs, hands looking for the zip of my skirt but losing that battle because of how scrunched it is.

I stand and find it at the back, undoing it and letting it fall to my ankles.

There’s no going back now.

I’ve never wanted anything more than I want this.

I stand in front of him in lacy white underwear and stockings attached to a garter belt.

“Fuck,” he breathes, looking down at me, taking time to explore my flesh with his hands. I’ve never felt sexier and more beautiful than I do right now, seeing it mirrored in his eyes. “Keep your heels on.”

He lifts me again, putting me back on the desk.

I gasp when he swipes everything off it behind me and onto the floor, laptop included. He doesn’t even glance at it to see if it’s okay, he just guides me back onto the hard and unforgiving surface and touches me, as though committing every inch of me to his memory.

I writhe beneath his torturous touches, whimpering and moaning as he inspects me with his fingers and palms. Fingers hook around the top of my panties and pull them down. His lips kiss my stomach and then my curve that leads to the place that’s raging with need while he carefully peels my panties over my heels.

I whimper when he kisses his way back up my body, stopping to look at me again, so exposed and vulnerable. I almost want to cover up.

“Has there ever been a woman more beautiful?” he asks, and I relax, feeling more comfortable in my own skin.

He grabs my hand and pulls me up to sitting. We kiss again, more desperately this time. Like when we first started. I’ve never wanted somebody inside of me like this before.

I push my hand between us and under the fabric of his pants. It’s a tight squeeze but I grasp his cock and balk at the size. He’s so thick, heavy, and solid in my hand. Like steel. Silky, hot, steel.

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