by Sienna Swan
It’s everything I thought it would be, and better. Filthier, more personal, rougher. The moment he bottoms out in me, he pulls out and then thrusts forward and it’s like a dam being released in me. Pain twists into pleasure and my nails unhook from his sides, my palms running over his wide, strong back.
I almost want someone to walk in.
I want someone to see this, to witness the fact that Mason Roarke is not infallible, and that he wants me. He wants me so bad that he went back on his word.
“More,” I whimper, in time with his hand reaching under me and picking me up, pinning me against his body.
He walks around the desk before he lifts me up and off himself. The feeling of emptiness is unbearable, like I’ve been robbed of something that was rightfully mine. I know this can’t be it, so I cry out in protest as soon as my feet hit the ground.
His cock is pulsing, dark pink and veiny. It’s glistening with my juices. I ache for it. He smirks at me, before turning me around sharply and pushing me down across the desk, my ass up in the air for him.
“Ask me nicely, Cassie,” he tells me, teasing my legs apart.
I teeter in my high heels, eyes wide as I stare at the door. If it opened right now…
“Please fuck me, Mason,” I tell him, twisting myself to look over my shoulder at him. “Please put your cock in me and cum in my pussy before our next meeting.”
He growls and wraps a hand in my hair again, making me look forward as he yanks back on it slightly. I grin to myself, feeling his cock pressing into me now. I knew that would get him. Couldn’t postpone two meetings in a day, now could we?
He stretches me as he enters me from behind and I’m a mess of nerves. He bucks into me once, twice, and when he goes all the way in, I’m screaming his name. I get it out exactly once before my ripped up panties are shoved in my mouth and I can taste how fucking wet I was for him before this all started.
“Quiet, Cassie,” he hushes me through gritted teeth, sliding his other hand around me and between my legs, starting to rub my clit.
I’m crying now, tears of release as he fucks me hard and fast and my body shakes with an impending orgasm. It rolls over me, marked by a string of expletives as I clench down on Mason’s cock.
“So fucking tight for me,” he growls, loosening his grip on my hair only to grab my hip for support as he pounds into me. “I knew your virgin cunt would be like this. Made for me.”
I want to tell him he’s right. I want to tell him that he’s the only man I ever wanted inside of me. I want to tell him I’m going to cum again, but I never get the chance because he forces me into the desk and as I feel his cock spasm in me, I give up.
My pussy milks his cock as I cum again, whimpering and shuddering and losing what last shred of sanity I had left. I’m all his now, all the more because I feel his hot, sticky cum fill my pussy to the brim, making his thrusts sloppy and noisy.
He stays buried inside me for a good minute or two as we both catch our breaths, panting. My hair is slick with sweat, sticking to my face as he pries my lips open and pulls my panties out of my mouth. His breaths are deep but ragged. I twitch when he pulls out of me and then rolls my skirt down over my thighs.
Painstakingly, I peel myself off the wooden desk, flipping my hair over my shoulder as I lean against the edge of it. We’re both a little shell-shocked, but I grin wide, knowing what just happened. His cum is still inside of me and while that should be freaking me the hell out, it just feels… right.
“You said you wouldn’t fuck me,” I tell him, unable to hide my joy of a victory well won.
His brow furrows and his expression darkens. I know immediately I’ve fucked up.
“I didn’t mean it like-” I start, but he shakes his head, finishing doing up his belt.
He grabs his undershirt and puts it on, making me miss his body and his touch on mine already.
“We’ve got a meeting to get to,” he tells me, all surly. “I suggest you straighten yourself out, Cassandra.”
My mouth gapes open slightly as he plucks up his shirt from the floor and throws it on, doing up the buttons without so much as looking at me. I run my fingers through my hair but I know already I’m going to have to go to the bathroom to try and make myself look even a little presentable.
I mean to bite back at him, or at least ask him what’s happening with our deal. Suddenly, that’s all I can think about. Because I did my part, right? Tears well up in my eyes, seeing him so distant and basically ignoring that I’m here at all. I don’t know what I was expecting, but I guess being fucked on a desk and then treated like trash wasn’t it, even if I realize I brought much of this on myself.
“I’ll see you in the meeting room in five,” Mason tells me, grabbing his jacket and putting it on.
Just like that, he’s out of the office, leaving me sitting on the edge of his desk, his cum still inside me.
We didn’t even kiss.
Chapter Twelve
Cassie
I didn’t think there could be anything that would hurt Mason Roarke, but I think I’ve managed the impossible. His default is grouchy and serious, but for the rest of the day after our little escapade in his office, the one that left me sitting pantyless and aching to do it again, he’s added surly to the mix. The occasional looks he gives me, a hint of something pained in his eyes, make me squirm in my seat.
The day goes by with excruciating slowness, mostly because I can’t stop thinking about what we did. I feel incredibly guilty for rubbing his nose in it, but it’s unfair that he’s behaving the way he is now too. At least I think so. I wasn’t alone in this. What we did was beautiful, and horrible at the same time, and I know I’m never going to want another man the way I want Mason.
But I didn’t tell him that, did I?
Occasionally, my hand goes to the side of my neck, picking at it loosely. I left my hair down, combing it into a side ponytail in an effort to cover up the hickey my boss left there. I think I’m fooling everyone but myself and Mason, because he keeps glancing at it too. Between the sullen hissy fit, I see a hint of a smile on him sometimes, but it’s so rare I don’t know what to make of it.
Maybe he’s as confused about this as I am.
Evening rolls around and we’re sorting the paperwork after our last meeting. I grab my notebook and stand awkwardly in the middle of the room. We always walk up together.
“You can take these upstairs to my office,” Mason tells me, plopping his tablet and notebook in my arms. “I’m heading home.”
“That’s it?” I blurt out before my brain managed to intervene. “We’re not talking about what happened before?”
“What do you mean?” he asks me, and I stutter for response.
“What do I mean?” I echo, incredulous.
This whole thing flashes before my eyes, from showing up at his office in cut-offs and a band shirt, to ending up spread across his desk, losing my virginity to him. It’s all so muddled that I can barely sort the important from the emotional. Finally, I cling to the one thing I still think should be mine if he’s taken everything else.
“We had a deal,” I tell him, standing up straighter. “I did my part. You need to do yours. Give my dad his job back.”
The words feel like poison. I hate lessening what we did, what I felt and feel for him now, to the level of a quick fuck for an exchange of favors. It isn’t like that to me, but maybe it is to him. I can’t have it all be a waste, I’d never be able to live with myself.
“I didn’t promise you anything,” he tells me coolly, and my stomach drops.
His expression is steely, emotionless, like he gets at the meetings sometimes. He turns on his heel and marches out of the room, leaving me alone, reeling, like he so often does.
I want to break down and cry as I slog up the steps. I catch a glimpse of the R8 pulling out of the parking spot through one of the stairwell windows and with it goes the last shred of hope I had. A foolish part of me thought he’d come storming back in,
gathering me up in his arms and telling me how wrong he was.
I bite my lip, swallowing the tears, and stack Mason’s desk how he likes it. His laptop is still on, if pushed to the side because of what we did before, and I right everything to their usual spots. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because this is apparently as close as I’m going to get to the man of my dreams now.
His e-mail is open. I’m about to turn around and head out to drown my sorrows in some cheap wine with Stacy’s shoulder to cry on, when I see a notification pop up. It’s from HR. My brows furrow as a horrible idea forms in my head.
My dad has less than a week left, just a couple of days before he’s off the company medical insurance. Obviously Mason won’t do anything for him now. If I could just extend the time dad has by a little, even a week or two, maybe we could figure something else out? Life finds a way, right?
With my hands shaking and my heart pounding out of my chest, I sit in Mason’s chair and pull up a new e-mail blank. I put my dad’s name in the title field and fill out a curt, short note to HR in Mason’s trademark style, telling them to overturn the redundancy notice on Thomas Newark and to reinstate him with full benefits. I add that he does not need to be notified of it, that it is all taken care of and that Mr. Newark knows.
The cursor hovers over the send button for a long time. When I finally click it, I feel like the scum of the earth. I delete the e-mail from Mason’s Sent folder and then delete the confirmation I get from HR for receiving the letter, clearing them both out of the Trash bin as well.
When I close down Mason’s laptop and head out the office, I feel hollow inside. I’ve gotten in too deep, in more ways than one, and I don’t know how to get out. Worst of all, though, is that I feel like I’ve lost Mason.
I guess I never really had him, but it felt like maybe, just maybe, I could…
I’m on the phone with Stacy a couple of minutes later and we make plans for her to come sleep over at my place for the night. I need to tell someone everything, every detail, naively hoping it would make me feel better. I know it won’t.
Tomorrow’s a Saturday but I still assume it’s a workday. I don’t know how I’m going to be able to face Mason tomorrow.
I’m nowhere near coming to grips with it all when we’re three hours into talking things over with Stacy and my phone buzzes. The message that awaits me leaves me speechless.
“Meet me outside at 12:00 tomorrow. We’re having a picnic. I’ll bring Henry.”
Stacy reads it out loud a couple of times, a frown deeply etched into her features. She’s been listening to me go on about how I fucked everything up for hours now and I thought I was almost coming to an end with it.
“What do you think it means?” she asks me.
I know what it means.
“It means that I fucked it up even worse than I thought,” I tell her, once again finding myself waiting for the skies to open up and smite me down.
Chapter Thirteen
Mason
So, it turns out little Cassandra Newark was right after all. I was the man to pop her cherry. The manner in which it happened wasn’t exactly the substance of fairy tales, not with her panties torn off as she’s hitched up on her boss’s desk in the middle of the workday. It was brutal, it was feral, but the passion was all real, even if it lacked finesse.
She has me reeling, that girl. She crawled under my skin that very first evening in the office, and no matter what I do I can’t seem to get her out of my mind
That’s why I reached the conclusion not to fight it anymore. I was her first and that can never be undone. I’m not even sure I’d want to take it back. I think even a jaded old workaholic like me may be capable of a romantic indulgence. The timing could be better, given my workload, but it’s too late to worry about that now.
Just as it’s too late to worry about what an asshole I’ve been to that pretty little thing.
All I can do now is make it better again.
I’m surprisingly nervous when I pick her up from the edge of Maple Street. It takes her a moment to recognize the car. I’m in the truck today, with Henry settled in the back ready to enjoy the warm afternoon with the two of us. Cassie is dressed casually, but nothing like the rebellious teen that rocked up in my office in a band shirt. She’s wearing a dress this time - a sweet floral thing with a rose pattern. Her blonde hair is long but tame, the finest wisps catching the light as she hitches herself into the passenger seat .
She smiles, but there’s less confidence in her eyes than I’m used to seeing. I guess we’re both a little nervous today.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hi,” she says back.
I pull away and she turns in her seat to coo over Henry. His tail thumps in the back as he whines a greeting. I can’t help but notice how tense she is when I shoot her a glance. Her shoulders are rigid and tight and her hands are clasped on her lap.
My heart drops a little as it occurs to me that maybe yesterday wasn’t what she wanted after all. Maybe it was anything but what she was hoping for. And maybe she’s only here because I’m her boss and she’s still holding out hope that I’ll give her dad his job back.
I decide to put my heart on the line regardless, it’s really the least I can do given how badly I’ve treated her so far.
“I’m glad you could make it,” I say, and she smiles another one of those thin smiles.
“I’m glad you invited me.”
I can’t tell if she’s lying or not, so I keep my eyes on the road ahead and try to ignore the worry in my gut. It doesn’t take long to get to my favorite park. I pull into my usual space and Henry is already excited. He barks in the back, and Cassie is smiling as she unclips her belt.
“He loves this place,” I tell her as I open the door. “And so do I.”
It’s just a park, nothing all that special. An expanse of grass with a few leafy trees that always seem to make the world seem a better place for a few hours. I always try to make the time for Henry here. I think I get even more benefit from it than he does, if I’m honest, but telling myself I’m doing it for him makes sure I’ll keep on coming here, work pressures or not.
I open the back and Henry lurches out. He’s a good boy and doesn’t even attempt to bound off, just stands at my side wagging his tail as I take the picnic basket from the backseat. Cassie asks if she can carry anything, but I tell her I’ve got it. I head for a nice spot under a big oak and pull out the red and white checkered picnic blanket. She drops herself onto it demurely, and it’s hard to imagine that this is the girl who ground her virgin pussy against my cock and begged me to fuck her yesterday.
I open the basket and she takes a look inside. I’ve chosen fresh fruits, and salad, a few sandwiches and some cream cakes I picked up from the bakery this morning. I pull out a carton of fruit juice and pour her a glass.
“This is so lovely,” she says and I wonder if she really means it.
“I think it’s about time we got to know each other.”
“I think we got to know each other pretty well yesterday.” Her cheeks are blooming pink and she won’t look at me. I almost wish her smart, bratty tongue would come back. I know where I stand with that brash Cassie. This one is alien to me. Not unpleasant, but unknown all the same.
“I’m sorry about yesterday,” I tell her. “It was… unprofessional.”
Her big blue eyes widen as she finally fixes them on mine. “It was amazing,” she whispers. “It was… everything I hoped…”
“It was less than you deserve,” I say. “Your first time should have been something special, not some brutal fucking on an office desk in broad daylight.”
“It was special…” Her voice is little more than a breath, but it sends shivers up my spine.
I want to tell her that next time will be more special. I want to pull her close and tell her that I’ve stopped fighting this, that from now on I’m going to treat her right and give her all the attention a sweet girl like her should have lavished on her.
I also want to be honest about this merger and her father. I want her to know the truth.
And ultimately I want him to know the truth too. The truth about how much I care for his daughter, and I do care. I care so much it scares me.
Just as I think I’m getting somewhere with her she stiffens up. She pulls her shoulders back as though she is fighting her emotions, and won’t meet my eyes again. She pats Henry and picks at the spread I’ve laid out for her, but she’s distant from me.
I don’t understand it, but I don’t want to push her. Pushing her is the very last thing I want.
It’s a pleasant meal. We make small talk about the park, and walk slowly around the edges after we’ve packed up the picnic basket. We circle it over and over, many more times than it warrants, and neither of us seems to want to call an end to the day even though the air is stiff with unspoken words.
Maybe I was wrong.
Maybe this could never work between us. She’s just a girl, and I’m so much older. I have work and little else, and she has her whole life ahead of her, a life of adventure and wonder. And men. Probably many young men to tempt her and love her and break her heart.
My own heart is heavy as we finally head back to the truck. Henry jumps right in the back, which shows just how much ground we’ve covered already. He flops onto his side with a sigh, settling down to sleep before I’ve even closed the tailgate back up.
Cassie buckles herself into her seat and stares right ahead. I do too.
I head off back for her house, taking the streets so much more slowly than I did earlier, holding off the inevitable awkward goodbye.
I’m certain she doesn’t want me, despite her saying yesterday was special. I’m sure she’s just trying to appease a stupid old guy in a bid to keep her dad on the books. She offered me her virginity in exchange for his reinstatement after all, and in the cold light of a fading afternoon I’m certain again that yesterday was all that was.
