“Yes, you heard right. I want you on your back, on my desk.” His hands circle my hips and he gently pushes me backward and toward his desk. My feet move on their own while I try and come up with something to say, anything to stop this from happening here. It’s wrong... so very wrong, but fuck if it doesn’t feel right.
“I have an appointment in ten minutes, so we are going to need to make this quick,” he says, leaning down to plant a kiss against my collarbone. “Sit on the edge of the desk and spread your legs for me.”
Reaching out for him, I pull him flush to my chest, wanting to feel all his hard edges against my soft ones. “Should we really do this here? What if someone hears or sees me coming out of your office?”
“Then they do. I don’t really fucking care right now. Get your ass up on the desk before I put your ass up on the desk.” There’s an impatient bite to his words and I follow his command without another word, hopping up onto the heavy wooden desk. My ass cheeks haven’t even fully pressed against the cool wood and he’s reaching for the hem of my dress and folding it up all the way to my waist.
“Such a dirty fucking girl…” he murmurs, licking his lips before slipping a hand into my hair. He holds me in place, his fingers threading through the strands as he descends on my lips. He kisses me like he’s starved for air, like he can’t get enough of me.
When he releases me, my lips are swollen, and my heart is hammering against my rib cage. Reaching for the button on his pants, he undoes them, pushing them down his legs and freeing his very hard cock. The head is red, and he looks like he might be in pain.
“I’ve wanted to fuck you all morning, and then you show up in that dress, shaking your hips, with your hair curled, and your bedroom eyes on.” He hisses, his muscles tightening with sexual tension. “Tell me you want me to fuck you... tell me, Sunflower.” The plea falls from his lips and I nod my head.
“Yes, fuck me.” I moan and without nothing more than a grin on his lips, he slides my lace panties to the side. A thick digit skims over my already wet folds and I find myself spreading my legs wider, giving him better access to my pussy.
“Fuck me, I knew you would be wet already,” he groans and lines himself up with my entrance, his cock brushing against it. “I’m going to fuck you hard and quick. If you don’t want anyone to hear you, then cover your mouth.” He gives me a hard look, an unknown emotion flickering in his depths before he slams into me, the thrust knocking the breath out of my lungs and making me sink my nails into his shirt-covered shoulder.
“Elijah…” I pant. Every thrust harder than the next. It feels like he’s trying to fuck himself through me, like he’s trying to embed a piece of himself inside me. I hold on to his shoulders, while he maintains an iron grip on my hips, pulling me onto his cock, every time he pushes into me. He’s so deep inside that I can feel him in my belly.
Pleasure prickles every nerve ending on my body. The coil deep inside me twists and twist until the tension is so great, I’m certain I’ll explode. Without warning, I start to come. The muscles in my pussy clenching and coating his length with my release.
Gushing all over his cock, I can feel our juices coating him. I can barely breathe, all I can do is hold on to Elijah while he fucks me through it, thrusting to the finish line. My pussy is still contracting from my own orgasm when he grunts and stills inside, shooting sticky ropes of hot cum deep into my channel.
“Shit…” He grunts while carefully sliding out of me. I wince, but not because I’m in pain, but because I want him to stay inside of me. There is nothing like sex with Elijah, nothing in the world.
“You okay?” he asks, his gaze softening while tucking himself back in.
“Yes, great actually… I want more.” My words leave my mouth and he chuckles softly.
“Such a greedy girl. I promise to fuck you extra slow later, but I wasn’t joking, Sunflower. I have an appointment walking in any minute now.” He grabs a tissue from a drawer in his desk and starts wiping my still overly sensitive flesh with it.
“Mr. Westbrook, your nine o’clock is here,” a voice comes over the phone speaker. I’m so startled, I almost fall off the desk. Elijah doesn’t seem fazed at all though and casually walks around and pushes the call button on the phone.
His eyes stay on mine for a long moment. “Please send him in.” I shake my head, sliding off the desk and letting my dress fall back down into place. I’m still running my palms down the front to straighten out the material when a knock funnels into the room. Why did I let him fuck me on his desk? Because you can’t get enough of him, idiot.
We both walk to the door where Elijah unlocks it and pulls it open. I don’t need a mirror to see that my face is fire hydrant red. I can feel the burning flesh all the way up to my hairline.
Scurrying away with a smile, I head back to my desk while Elijah greets his appointment and ushers him into the room and over to the desk, the same desk that my bare ass just sat on while I got thoroughly fucked.
The day started out so great, unfortunately, it didn’t end the same way. I stare down at my shaking hands. I’m tired. I’m cold, and now I have to find another place to live for the foreseeable future because my upstairs neighbor fell asleep in her bathtub, overflowing the thing and in turn, giving my entire apartment a thorough soaking of its own.
Which leads me to where I am right now, standing outside Elijah’s apartment door. I was supposed to be here over three hours ago, but water damage tends to slow you down. I try to call him, but his phone went straight to voicemail. So either it’s dead, or he is pissed and turned the damn thing off.
This sticky feeling coats my insides when I lift my hand to knock on the door. I don’t know why I feel like I’m going to barf. My knuckles nearly graze the wood when the sound of footsteps approaching the door, accompanied by Elijah’s voice, meets my ears.
I’m baffled, my brows pinch together in confusion and I can’t make out what he is saying, but it sounds like he might be on the phone or something. I would have believed that, had I not heard a second voice a moment later, followed by a high-pitched giggle.
What the hell? All I can think of are worse case scenarios. He didn’t actually invite another woman to his apartment because I was late? Did he? My heart stills in my chest and a deep ache resonates through my bones. It feels like someone ripped out my heart and stomped it into the dirt. The ground seems to shake underneath me.
I should leave, walk away before it’s too late, before he sees me out here eavesdropping. I twist around to leave, my foot mid-step when the door to Elijah’s apartment swings opens, the dim lighting from inside projecting upon me like a light on a stage.
Jealousy as hot as the damn sun fills every fiber of my body, every vein, even my bones when I see the long-legged blonde standing next to Elijah on the other side of the door. The bitch is smiling, her eyes giving away her intentions, or she was smiling, until she sees me.
“Bailey?” My eyes move from the blonde and back to Elijah who looks surprised to see me, his eyes widening as they move up and down my disheveled form.
That’s right, fucker, try and explain this one.
“Rhonda, this is Bailey, the designer for the new club. Bailey, this is Rhonda, the architect,” he introduces us, and I can’t help myself, the emotionless look just jumps onto my face. I remember her, she came to his office about a week or so ago. That doesn’t explain why she’s here now though.