Take Me On

by Dylan Rose

  ‘Happy to see me?’

  The heat to his voice, to his gaze, made it clear he wasn’t bothered by her teeny assets and had her hunger swelling thick and fast in return, any inadequacy on her part promptly and joyously forgotten.

  How could he do that so easily? Make her forget the insecurities that plagued her?

  She tried to respond but her throat had closed tight, leaving only the ability to nod, and as she did she wet her lips. His eyes rose in tune with the move, something incoherent escaping under his breath, and then he strode forward, reaching out to crush her to him as his mouth claimed hers, ravenous and brutal, and everything she wanted.

  ‘The feeling’s mutual,’ he rasped against her lips before devouring her whole, his tongue fencing with her own, his hands shifting to fork through her hair, his body walking her back until she hit the wall.

  He tore his mouth away, his fingers smoothing around one side of her neck as his mouth attacked the other, a crazy mix of swirling pressure, nips and sucks that had her going out of her mind. Her head pressing into the hardness of the wall as she arched for him, her breasts desperate and aching as they thrust upwards.

  ‘This afternoon was torture,’ he grumbled against her skin, his hot breath tormenting the dampness he’d created. ‘Had I known you’d been braless it would’ve been even more so.’

  His fingers dropped with his words to stroke over one pleading peak and the electricity that ripped through her made her cry out, her body arching further.

  ‘Fuck, yes.’

  He repeated the move and she positively writhed. She couldn’t remember a touch so potent, so thrilling. Her breasts ached with maddening intent, desperate to be bare, desperate to have him pinch, flick, suckle, anything and everything. Charles hadn’t done this to her, driven her to the edge of reason. They were in the office, for fuck’s sake, not a private room, not a bedroom.

  He leant back, his gaze burning down into her. ‘Kristus, baby, I could take you right here, right now, to hell with dinner.’

  She couldn’t respond, she just wanted him back, crushing away every thought, every sense with the all-consuming lust curling its way through her, knowing the crescendo would be worth every debauched second.

  She drove her hands through his hair, pulling him back to her hungry mouth, telling him with her move that the only dinner she craved was him. But then the sound of gossipy chatter in the outer corridor invaded her senses, a semblance of clarity with it—the cleaners.

  She swallowed a curse and edged along the wall, taking him with her.

  ‘My office,’ she managed to get out, shoving the door further ajar and stumbling through it. She hit the lights off as he spun her back against the wall, kicking the door closed.

  ‘The lock,’ she blurted, reaching for it and twisting it in place. Her hands returning to him, twice as hungry, twice as confident. She slipped them beneath his jacket, uncaring of its obvious expense as she shoved it from his shoulders. He let it fall to the floor as she pulled at his shirt, tugging it out of his trousers while his hands reached for her blouse, doing the same.

  As the cool air swept over her exposed torso, she froze, a second’s hesitation as Charles came back to haunt her anew, the evening light illuminating her boyish body in all its glory. It was one thing to find her clothed and sexy, but would he feel the same when he saw...

  Her blouse swept over her head and she dared to look up at him. All hesitation evaporated as lustful heat bore down into her, etched in every taut line of his face, the thin amber rim of his dilated gaze burning fierce.

  ‘I want to worship every last bit of you.’ His palms now gentle as they cupped each small mound, her sensitised peaks nesting at their heart, his thumbs caressingly soft. ‘You are beautiful.’

  Sounds from the outer office had his gaze flicking to the doorway, beyond which the cleaners were going about their job.

  ‘You think you can keep quiet while I drive you crazy?’

  The undulating ache in her lower belly swelled with glee, her head nodding, her eyelids fluttering as she struggled to breathe.

  ‘Good girl.’

  She clenched her tummy tight as he dipped his head to nuzzle into her neck, picking up on her pulse point and toying with it. ‘I’m going to make you wish you could cry out.’

  She pressed her palms into the wall either side of her, not knowing where to put them, wanting to rake them all over his body, through his hair, but feeling immobilised, caught in a web of his creation.

  He rolled each nub with his thumb, making her pant as they swelled obediently. ‘You’re going to come so hard.’

  She whimpered. She knew it. She could feel its promise already building.

  The rolling caress became a tweak and she bucked, a cry she couldn’t suppress erupting as she realised she could come from this attention alone. She was that desperate, that deprived, that wanton...

  ‘You’ll need to do better than that.’

  Better?

  She tried to focus through the haze and he looked to the door pointedly—Christ, there was no way she could do this quietly.

  ‘You need me to help,’ he said softly.

  How? She frowned.

  He raised one hand, his fingers brushing over her lips, her plump and swollen flesh moving helplessly beneath his touch and relishing every teasing bit of it.

  ‘Use me,’ he said. ‘I’ll make you forget Charles ever existed.’

  Forget fucking Charles, God, yes!

  An exciting tremor rippled through her as she nodded against the wall and manoeuvred her head to nip into his palm, getting him where she wanted him. And then his head dropped, his mouth sucking in one desperate peak before releasing it from his teeth, and she cried into his hand, her nails scraping into the wall as she clawed at it.

  ‘So responsive,’ he muttered against her, his teeth grazing her swollen flesh as he spoke. ‘So addictive.’

  His free hand joined in the attentions, his touch wild with his own mounting need.

  ‘More,’ she pleaded softly.

  He gave a muffled growl in response, dropping to his knees, his tongue gliding over her navel as he dropped both hands to her trouser fastening. He popped it undone, the zipper following suit, the fabric dropping to the floor, cold air hot on its tail, and then came his hands brushing up her bare legs, their palms hot, fingers caressing. He locked his teeth around the small bow at the centre of her thong’s waistband, plucking at it, the elastic stinging her skin as her eyes dropped to his.

  ‘Fuck...’ she whimpered.

  He was too hot, too seductive; her head was dizzy on it, intoxicated even.

  He slid his fingers beneath the waistband and she bit her lip in anticipation, watching as he pulled it down, pushing it to join her trousers at her ankles. She was about to step out of them all when his head dropped, his tongue sweeping inside her seam and making her cry out. She clamped her jaw shut, her knees buckling, and he gave a deep chuckle.

  ‘Seems you can’t keep quiet.’

  She looked down at him, his head cocked back, his chin resting teasingly above her strip of hair and her need took over, driving out the order, ‘Rather than criticise me, put your mouth to better use.’

  His eyes flashed and she rammed her fingers through his hair drawing him against her, absorbing his appreciative growl in the cluster of chaos between her legs. She was losing it in every way possible, her knees turning to jelly as she opened herself up to him, and rode his tongue, his teeth, every bit of friction he could give her.

  She grabbed at his shirt, felt his muscles rippling wildly as he worked her. She reached for his hand, tugging it back to where she needed it, across her mouth. He pressed her head back into the wall with it, his hold tight, her breaths rasping over his fingers as she struggled to take in enough air to fuel the crazy spiralling tension.

  She c
lawed at the wall again, her legs buckling further, and he used his shoulders to hold her steady and open, hungrily devouring her, sucking up her wetness, flicking wildly over her clit and layering it up with the bite of his teeth.

  The tension grew with punishing force and just as the handle to her office door shifted, she exploded, her entire body convulsing with an orgasm like no other. She bucked over him, her head falling forward, her muscles rippling wildly, and he held her to him, his head moving to press against her belly as he kept her upright through the waves.

  In her post-orgasm daze, she could hear the voices on the other side... ‘If it’s locked leave it’... ‘Thought I heard something though’... ‘Not for us to worry about.’

  The footsteps retreated, and she felt shyness creeping in.

  What the hell have you just let happen? In your office, of all places?

  And then he leant back on his haunches and met her eye, pinning her with the unrestrained heat of his need, and she knew exactly what she’d let happen and why because, even in her sated state, her body was already on the up, her pulse kick-starting over its impulsive desire to please him. To strip him as bare as she and enjoy every last bit.

  * * *

  For a split second he sensed that same vulnerability, that same inkling that she wasn’t the feisty, controlled diva her exterior made her out to be. And then it was gone, her fingers pushing him back so that he had to splay his palms out, pressing them into the floor to stop himself back-planting completely.

  ‘My turn,’ she said, slipping one heeled foot out of her pooled clothing and then the other.

  Leaving her shoes on, she stalked towards him. All statuesque, confident and sexy as fuck. His blood rang in his ears, surging to the head of his dick.

  ‘Easy, tiger,’ he warned, not that it was aimed at her, but to his raging erection that was fit to explode any second.

  ‘Lose the shirt.’ She jutted her chin towards him, her silver-grey eyes as wild as her hair, her lips lifting in a one-sided smile.

  He’d never witnessed anything so sexy. Never been more turned on. He did as she asked, undoing each button while his eyes raked over her, devouring every last inch. The way her breasts were still pert, her breathing still hitched, the apex of her thighs still slick, her entire body begging him for more.

  Slipping the shirt from his arms, he heard the faint catch in her breath, saw her drag her lower lip inside and keep it there, her eyes lost somewhere between his pecks and his groin.

  She nudged his thigh with one heeled foot. ‘The rest.’

  His hands moved to his trouser fastenings of their own accord. He was torn between the pull of her mouth and the pull of her pussy—both wet, both slick, and everything his straining cock needed.

  Fuck, you can’t lose it like some out-of-control teen!

  He’d never had to worry about performing before. Why the hell was he having to now? He needed to get himself under control. He needed the situation under his control.

  Retracting his legs from beneath her, he stood and shoved off the remainder of his clothing.

  ‘I didn’t say stand.’

  It was a complaint that carried no force, her eyes now fixed below the waist, her mouth parted and hungry.

  ‘Needs must, angel.’ He bent for his jacket and retrieved his wallet, flipping it open. ‘I’ll make it up to you.’

  He extracted a condom and tossed the rest aside, trying to stop his eyes feasting on her but doing so all the same. She was exquisite and he was imprinting every curve into his mind for later perusal. ‘Turn around,’ he said automatically. He wanted the whole of her.

  She met his gaze, eyes wavering, and then she did as he asked, turning away slowly. He tore the packet open and sheathed himself, his eyes drinking her in. The crazy state of her cropped hair. The delicate frame to her shoulders as they undulated softly with her breathing. Her milk-like skin so pale and alluring. Right down to her narrow waist, softly flaring hips and that delicious bare ass, so pert and inviting. His cock leapt and he took a ragged breath, trying to rein it back.

  Get in control.

  He closed the gap between them and felt her jump a little as his cock nudged against her back.

  ‘You are exquisite,’ he whispered alongside her ear, his hands stroking at her arms by her sides. She shivered, her skin prickling beneath his touch.

  ‘I want to fuck you over your desk,’ he murmured, his head dropping to the curve of her neck as he stroked down her belly, feeling it draw tight beneath his caress, her anticipation palpable as his destination became clear.

  ‘I want to fuck you there,’ he continued, his fingers finding her nest of curls and dipping inside, teasing the silky wetness apart, ‘so that every day you’re in here, you can remember it.’

  He found her beaded clit and she bucked wildly on a moan, her head arching into his shoulder, and he clamped his jaw shut as his cock pulsed wildly into her back. Kristus, he’d never known someone so responsive, so genuinely lost.

  Her hands flung back to grip at his thighs, her pelvis tilting into his touch.

  He stroked her, lapping up every little whimper, every escape of air. He gazed down her front, between her small, tantalising tits to where he worked her, and let his free hand trail along her collarbone, his touch barely there as it teased a path to one taut peak. He brushed across it and her head writhed against him, her whimpers increasing. He did the same to the other and her nails bit into his skin.

  She was close, her rocking becoming jagged, full of tension. Grabbing her by the hips, he swung her before the desk. Disregarding the orderly array of paperwork, writing implements and whatever else as he palmed her back. He stroked from the base of her spine up, encouraging her to bend forward with his exploration. By the time his fingers caught in her hair, she’d stretched herself over the desk, her body the perfect addition to the orderly state, her milky skin contrasting with the glass top, her breath creating steam like patterns across it.

  Beads of perspiration broke across his back; his jaw ached with the effort to stave off the heat surging through him.

  Steady, steady...

  He bent his knees and cupped her hips, teasing her ass higher into the air. Taking hold of his cock, he brushed it down the valley of her smooth, round mounds.

  God, how you’d like to claim her there too.

  ‘Please, Daniel, now.’

  Her ass nudged upwards with her words, his swollen head slipping just inside her entrance, too inviting to take pause, and he thrust inside her, hard and deep. Through the whirring in his ears he heard her cry out and her body clenched around him, tight and hot. He stilled, wanting her to adjust, to be comfortable, but she wasn’t having it. She wriggled over him, her hands reaching beyond her head to grip at the desk edge.

  ‘Steady,’ he ground out—to himself, to her, to them both.

  He wanted to savour it, to enjoy every mounting second. But she felt so good, so wet, so inviting. Her sounds wanton and as desperate as he.

  He slid one hand between her legs, seeking her out once more, loving how it made her still, her building tension palpable in every taut muscle. He rocked into her, his thighs slapping against her own, his own pleasure-filled tension working its way through every limb and taking over, ramping up his tempo.

  He tightened his grip in her hair, pulling her head back, making her arch to him. He wanted his hands everywhere: on her clit, her pretty little tits, everywhere.

  He caught movement ahead, saw their faint outline reflected in the window before him—so fucking carnal. He would take that image everywhere with him. She panted her impending climax; he watched it take hold of her body in the glass before him and it tipped him over the edge. He exploded into her, the force winding him, the cries of her orgasm breaking their way into his consciousness and compounding his own.

  He dragged her up against his chest, ho
lding her tight, the waves racking their bodies as they rode them together. He held her like that until the very last aftershock rippled through them and he could trust his voice to work. ‘You are so fucking hot, you know that?’

  She gave a sound that was more of a scoff than a giggle.

  She had no idea. None at all. How was that possible?

  She turned her head into his chest, nudging at his chin with a soft sigh. ‘You’re not so bad yourself.’

  ‘Not so bad?’ He squeezed his arms around her in mock offence and she rewarded him with a melodic giggle, one that rippled through his very core. ‘We’re not heading for more Daniel-bashing, are we?’

  She gave a proper laugh. ‘I wouldn’t dare without your sister to hand.’

  ‘Well, thank fuck she isn’t.’ He bowed his head, resting his chin upon her shoulder and wanting nothing more than to go round two, three, maybe even four as soon as he was able. ‘What say we stay here and order takeout?’

  ‘Hmm.’ She stretched out against him, finding her feet, and he felt his cock protest as it slipped free. ‘Sounds good.’

  He hadn’t realised he’d been holding his breath until it escaped with her reply, and now he grinned, pressing a kiss to her shoulder before straightening to release her. ‘I take it I have to brave the outer realm to get cleaned up.’

  She turned her head to give him a sheepish look. ‘Afraid so.’

  ‘Fair enough, you sort the takeaway and I’ll try not to expose myself to the cleaners.’

  ‘You’re on.’ She chuckled. ‘Chinese, Indian, Thai...’

  He deliberately chose her line from earlier that day. ‘I’m easy.’

  ‘I know.’ Her eyes sparked into his and his cock bucked with it. Round two couldn’t come soon enough.

  ‘So long as I have you for dessert.’

  She turned into him, her fingers tracing a path over his chest and setting off goosebumps in their wake. ‘Oh, I think that can be arranged.’

  A tremor rippled through his body, it was already gearing up, and then came a flash of sanity.

  Don’t forget your other purpose.