by S. M. Soto
Keeping his mouth against mine, Callan works open the buttons on the shirt I changed into earlier. He peels the material off my shoulders until it falls to the floor in a heap, leaving me in my blush pink lace bra. His touch is fire on my skin.
“Always so goddamn distracting,” he grits in my ear, his thumb tracing my nipple through the material, sending a zing of pleasure straight to my core. The point hardens at his touch, and my core throbs, begging for more.
Trapping my bottom lip between his teeth, he slides his hand up my skirt, slowly tearing off my soaked panties. He kisses me until I’m breathless, gently pushing me backward and against my desk. His tongue slides against mine, claiming control of me. His taste fills my mouth, and I moan. The sound is uninhibited.
When my legs damn near give out beneath me, my arms slide up his chest, and he yanks me against him, leaving no room between us. His mouth claims mine in a storm of cruel lips.
Briefly letting my mouth go, he pushes all of my binders and files onto the floor. My office line begins to ring, and he immediately knocks the phone to the floor, too, as though he wants no interruptions for what comes next.
My mind still hasn’t quite caught up to what’s happening. I’ve waited years for this. Fantasized about this moment night after night, wondering what it would’ve been like between us.
Without saying a word, Callan grabs me by my waist and lifts me, firmly planting me on the face of my desk. My bare ass cheeks hit the cold metal, and I suck in a sharp breath as I catch sight of his hardened cock through his slacks.
“Spread your legs for me,” he commands, lust bleeding from his tone.
The sound of people talking outside my office makes me want to jump up and run, but he places his warm hand against my stomach and stares down into my eyes.
“They won’t be able to hear us,” he whispers. “Do what I told you to do. Now.”
Swallowing thickly, I slowly move my legs apart and watch as he loosens his tie, keeping his gaze fixed between my thighs.
“Fucking Christ, Daisy,” he breathes out harshly. “You’re soaked.” Callan steps between my legs and presses his thumb against my swelling clit, applying just enough pressure to make me moan. “So fucking beautiful.”
“Callan.” His name tumbles past my lips in a moan, and his eyes smolder, somehow growing hotter at the sound.
“I need you to promise not to scream,” he murmurs. “They’ll definitely hear that.”
I nod, unable to respond as he kneels before me and sucks my clit into his mouth. A gasp rips from my chest, and I slap a hand over my mouth, trying to stay silent.
“Can you promise me that, Daisy?”
I nod again, breathing slowly as he blows against my sensitive skin. “Yes… I-I promise I won’t scream…when you…fuck me,” I pant.
“I wasn’t referring to when I fuck you.” He lifts his head, smirking. “I have to eat your pretty little cunt first.” He suddenly grabs me by my thighs with a bruising grip and yanks me closer to the edge of the desk, quickly positioning both of my legs over his broad shoulders.
Not wasting another second, he buries his head between my legs and presses his mouth against my pussy—sending every nerve in my body into overdrive. His tongue flicks at my clit relentlessly, and I cry out as he slides two thick fingers inside me, groaning his approval. My hands fly to his hair, gripping it hard as I beg him for mercy, but he doesn’t relent. He continues to torture me with pleasure. Between moans, I threaten to scream, but he only chuckles, and the strokes of his tongue become more powerful and dizzying.
As his hands hold my legs steady, I feel myself on the verge of an orgasm. My entire body begins to shake.
“Callan, I…I…” I struggle to get another word to fall out of my mouth. My body convulses against the desk, forcing me to break my promise and scream so loudly I’m sure everyone in the building can hear me.
I feel him pressing his hand against my mouth to quiet me. I can vaguely hear him commanding me to be quiet, but I shut my eyes and toss my head back, losing all control.
I don’t know how long my body continues to tremble as I come down from my orgasm, or if any of my coworkers heard me, but when I open my eyes again, my legs are still wrapped around Callan. He’s staring at me with so much heat in his eyes, my stomach dips, and my channel throbs painfully.
For a brief second, it looks like he’s going to say something, to find a way to break our heated silence, but he simply moves my legs from around his shoulders and unbuttons his pants with slow, methodical movements. My eyes widen as far as they can go when he pulls out his cock. He’s thicker and more well-hung than I could’ve imagined.
He smiles at my shocked reaction, obviously enjoying this. Tipping my chin up with his fingertips, he swipes his thumb across my bottom lip, his eyes following the movement.
“Bend over the desk.”
I gasp, my heart lurching. “What?”
“You heard me.” He grabs my hands and pulls me up to my feet. Then he grips my hips possessively and spins me around so my back is to his front. “Bend over the fucking desk.”
Slowly obliging, I press my chest against the cool surface, my heart thundering in my throat. I hear his pants hitting the floor and the sound of him unwrapping a condom. From behind, he slowly pushes my pencil skirt up to my waist. Slapping my ass, then gripping a handful, he slowly slides his huge cock into me, inch by inch.
Moaning, I drop my head to the desk with a painful thud, struggling to maintain my balance as I adjust to his impressive length. There’s a slight sting of pain, but I welcome it—I crave it, even—so long as he’s the one causing it. When he’s fully inside me, he grabs a fistful of my hair and pulls my head back until our eyes meet, whispering, “Is this how I fucked you in your fantasies, Daisy?”
I don’t get a chance to answer. He pounds into me relentlessly, keeping one hand in my hair and slapping my ass each time I cry out. I choke on my breaths. The sensations he’s eliciting inside me are too much. When I feel the head of his cock nudge something deep inside, a gasp rips from my chest, and I claw at the desk, feeling overcome with sensation. Overcome with how full I feel.
A throb, big and pulsing, clutches my body and travels down my scalp all the way to my toes. I undulate between him and the desk. I moan his name, and he sinks his teeth into my shoulder, and my pussy floods with moisture. The sounds of slapping flesh and panting echo around us. It’s incredibly erotic. I shut my eyes once more when I realize he’s ten times better in reality than any fantasy I’ve ever concocted. He’s the best I’ve ever had, point-blank, period.
The realization is a painful prick to the heart.
Callan lets go of my hair and slides a hand up to my breasts, squeezing them as he whispers in a husky tone, “I’ve wanted to feel your pussy on my cock since the moment you walked into my office with those big doe eyes. I’ve waited years to feel this—to feel you.”
Emotion climbs into my chest, bubbling there. Hearing him admit that has tears springing to my eyes. Because there’s never not been a moment when I haven’t thought of this. When I haven’t wanted this.
I gasp, unable to react as my legs tremble violently all over again.
“I’m going to… I’m—” I grip the edge of the desk as he slaps my ass again.
“You’re going to what?” he mocks me, a slight smile in his voice. “Are you going to come? Is that it, Daisy?”
I whimper and nod recklessly, unable to find the words.
He whispers my name as the tremors continue to build inside me, and I hear him say, “Wait for me,” but I’m already there. I’ve fantasized about this for years, so in no way can I hold back.
My pussy throbs in pleasure, and another orgasm wracks my body, leaving me limp and breathless against my desk. Leaving me wondering just how long he fucked me.
With the pads of his fingers digging painfully into my hips, he finds his own release seconds later. Meanwhile, I struggle to catch my breath. The two of us rema
in entwined, and he presses a gentle kiss on the back of my neck.
“Are you all right?”
I nod jerkily, unable to find my voice.
“Can I let you go now?”
“No.” My voice quivers.
He lets out a low laugh and holds me against him a while longer, thinking I’m joking. I don’t want him to let me go. I want to close my eyes and live in this moment with him.
He waits patiently, tracing gentle circles over my backside, waiting until I give him the okay to let me go. Kissing the back of my neck once more, he slowly pulls out of me, and I gasp, my core feeling empty and used. He tosses the condom into the trash, then wraps his arms around me and spins me around so I’m propped against the desk.
As if he can tell I’m currently incapable of fully functioning on my own, he readjusts my skirt and helps me back into my top, even going as far as buttoning it for me. With each passing second, the tension in the room grows stronger and stronger until it’s stifling. He runs his fingers through my hair and looks me over before picking up my heels and helping me slide back into them. At some point, they must’ve fallen off.
“You should call Stephan now,” he murmurs softly, picking up my desk phone from the floor and handing it to me. “I’ll walk you downstairs.”
I nod stiffly, my heart clenching with sadness.
That’s it?
After he fucked me senseless on my desk, he’s going to make me ride home alone? With my heart in my throat and trembling fingers, I dial our driver, watching Callan slip into his pants and adjust his tie with such ease. As if what we just did has no effect on him at all. Through it all, his eyes never leave mine, but I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.
I don’t know what to think at all.
All I know is, the man I’ve loved and hated in equal measure just rocked my world, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to wipe it from my mind.
Callan hands me my purse and pauses when my fingers graze his hand. His eyes flare, and for a second, he looks torn, like he wants to say something. I wait with my heart in my throat, hoping he’ll put me at ease. Instead, he clears his throat and rests his hand at the small of my back, guiding me out of the office. I wobble on my heels as I attempt to walk—earning a knowing, sexy lip twitch from him. He pulls me against his side, and thankfully everyone from the firm has left for the day. I avoid looking at him as we ride the elevator in silence. I’m in complete and utter shock that I actually let that happen, that the villain in every aspect of my life, the man in all my fantasies has so easily put every single one of those to shame with reality.
When we step outside together, I’m immediately taken off guard when he walks me toward the Town Car and slides in after me. My eyes widen, and I shoot him a confused look. I expected him to make me ride home alone, but maybe…maybe that meant something to him, too. I can’t be the only one. I refuse to believe it was one-sided. Maybe it’s the way he’s staring at me, with complete authority and a hint of possession glittering in his eyes.
Most of the drive back to my place is spent in silence, both of us sneaking glances at each other. Every so often, I open my mouth to say something, but no words come.
What can I possibly say after what we did?
There’s no coming back from that.
When Stephan rolls to a stop outside of my building, I hang back, my stomach churning uneasily.
“Callan, I think we should talk about—”
He opens his door, climbs out, and waits for me to follow suit. There’s a slight chill in the air tonight. It has my hair whipping around my face, a permanent chill settling in my bones.
“C’mon, let’s get you inside. You look cold.”
With his hand at the small of my back, he leads me toward the complex, but I pause. “Wait, you’re coming up? Why?”
The muscle along his jaw jumps. “Would you rather I not?”
“Well… I don’t know.” His jaw sets in a hard line, and I realize that was the wrong thing to say. My mind isn’t thinking straight after what just transpired between us. “I just mean, because Faith is up there…and your mother.”
A grimace settles over his face. “I’m well aware. But you’re right. Go.”
He slips his hands into his slacks, his face a mask of indifference as he waits for me to walk away. I stand there frozen, unsure what to do. By the tic in his jaw, I can tell he’s growing impatient. Blowing out a sigh, I leave him, walking up the steps inside the rowdy complex.
My heart thuds a painful tune in my chest. The weight of what just happened between us suddenly presses on my shoulders, and for a second, I think I’m going to collapse. Until I feel a warm arm snake around my waist. I’d know his smell anywhere. Every part of Callan Reed is ingrained in every fiber of my being, especially now.
“What happened to staying out there?”
He grunts. “I fucking hate this building.”
A soft smile graces my lips at the fact that he cares at all.
The second I step off the elevator onto the office floor, my stomach twists with unease. From the moment I opened my eyes, I’ve been dreading today. I have no clue what to expect from Callan. I went about my morning, expecting his usual bossy emails and to-do lists, but I was surprised to find nothing there at all.
It only makes me wonder what version of him I’ll be getting today.
Will he acknowledge what happened between us, or will he pretend nothing happened?
After he walked me up to my door last night, he left without a single word. No, “I’ll talk to you soon,” or anything of the like. He didn’t even kiss my forehead or show any kind of affection—not that I expected he would. He left me to face his mother on my own. Though, it’s not like she suspected anything.
The only person who knew anything about what happened between us in the office is Rosalind, and she wasn’t all that happy about it. I had to beg her not to call her brother and cuss him out for being unprofessional.
I go about my day as I normally would, grabbing Callan his coffee and something for breakfast. I gather the day’s memos and send his schedule to him, all without a single word. My heart is pounding violently as I stand outside his office.
Knocking three times, I wait for his gruff response before entering. My steps falter as I cross the threshold and take him in. Dressed in another pristine suit, he looks as handsome as ever, but that’s not what’s tripping me up. It’s the fact that he hasn’t acknowledged my presence at all. Typing away on his computer, he hasn’t even spared me a glance.
I clear my throat, hoping to grab his attention. “I have your coffee and your breakfast as well as your schedule for the day.”
I wait for a thank you, something, anything.
Without a word or a glance my way, he picks up the coffee and takes a drink. My nostrils flare, and I work extra hard just to tamp down my building frustration. His face is a blank mask, and cold air radiates from him. He’s being extra standoffish than usual.
“Is there a reason you’re still standing here and not working, Ms. Casillas?”
A tremor rolls down my spine at the sound of his voice. My mind flashes back to images of the way he bent me over my desk and fucked me. Heat climbs into my cheeks, and the room suddenly feels ten times hotter than it did just seconds before.
“What? No. I just… I thought maybe we could talk.”
“I’m not paying you to talk. Get to work.”
I wince as ice spears through the center of my chest, spreading like pinpricks. I sniff back the sudden pressure building in my nose and turn to leave, holding my head high.
I knew this would happen.
If I thought sleeping with Callan Reed would change things, I wasn’t wrong. It just hasn’t gotten any better. If anything, our relationship is more strained now than it was before. The rest of the day is spent with him giving me cold demands or snapping at me.
I’m on my way out of the copy room, trying to finish up a last-minute project for h
im, when I crash into something—or more accurately, someone—warm. All the perfectly organized stacks go tumbling from my arms, scattering to the floor.
My heart drops.
Slowly, I glance up, color rising to my cheeks when I realize it was Callan I bumped into, and he doesn’t look all that happy to see me. It’s quite the opposite, actually.
His jaw ticks with frustration, and he takes a step back, away from the mess and me. “Ms. Casillas, meet me in the conference room after you clean all of this up.”
My stomach twists, a deep pit settling there.
This can’t be good.
It takes me thirty minutes to reorganize and finish up the project. After setting it on his desk, I meet him in the conference room, my stomach tied in knots. When I walk in, I pause, and he makes a point to look down at the watch on his wrist.
“Since you obviously think my time is invaluable, I’m going to save us both the time here, Ms. Casillas. Your work has been sloppy. Pull yourself together, or I’ll find someone who can handle the simplest of tasks.”
A surprised sound tumbles past my lips. “Are you kidding me right now? I’m having one off day, Callan. One.”
“I would hardly call today an off day. You’ve been sloppy. Mis-scheduling clients, uncompleted projects, shall I keep going?”
I press my lips together grimly. “I’m sorry. You act like I did this on purpose.”
“I don’t give a shit why you did it. Fix it.”
“Are we going to keep ignoring the elephant in the room?” I snap, finally having enough of this beating around the bush bullshit.
His gaze meets mine, and I’m taken aback by how closed off he looks. It’s as if he feels nothing at all. As though he doesn’t realize how hard this is for me.
“The only elephant in the room we’ll be discussing is your obvious incompetence.” He rises from his chair, buttoning his suit jacket. “I think you’ve monopolized enough of my time for one day, don’t you think?”
My hands curl into fists as I watch him go, still utterly baffled by how quickly he can flip a switch. How did he go from being soft after fucking me to this?
