His kiss is exactly what I’ve been needing ever since I saw him in bed, beaten and glazed.

I stand up and he stumbles back, running up against a filing cabinet. I press myself against him, but not too hard. He pulls me tighter, kissing me deep and slow, before I reach down to the hem of his shirt and lift it up over his head.

I put my hands on his chest and look down at him as he kisses my neck. The bruises are still bad, but starting to turn yellow as they heal. I bite my lip as I feel his warm breath against my ear.

“Are you finally going to stop pretending?” he whispers.

“I’m not pretending,” I say.

He smirks at me, his hands running down my body. He untucks my blouse from my tight black skirt. His hands slide up and cup my breasts as he kisses me again, sending waves of desire through my skin.

He moves back and finds the zipper on the back of my skirt. He pulls it down, unhooking the tiny clasp, and I let him pull the skirt down over my ass and hips. My blouse drops down to cover my black panties, but he lifts it up, hands sliding along my skin, building my anticipation to levels I can barely stand.

His kiss drives me deeper and deeper into desire. I grab his belt and pull it off. I feel him tense and relax as I get it undone, unbuckling his jeans and pulling them gently over his hips. I reach for his cock and find him hard, straining against his cotton boxer briefs as his left hand reaches up into my hair, pulling it back tightly.

I gasp as he kisses my neck, his other hand between my legs. “Are you thinking about that first night?” he whispers to me.

“Maybe,” I admit.

“You came so hard, I thought you might scream yourself raw. I’ve been dreaming about that fucking pussy ever since.”

“I’ve been thinking about it too,” I admit, taking his cock in both of my hands as I pull his briefs down.

“I know. I see the way you look at me.”

“How’s that?” I ask him.

He grins at me. “Like you’re fucking hungry,” he says, as he presses two fingers inside of me and pulls my hair back.

I gasp, pain and pleasure mixing. He strokes my pussy like that, teasing my clit and sliding his fingers inside of me, his hand tight in my hair. I start to slide my hands along his shaft, trying to stifle my moans.

Part of me is afraid that someone might walk in here, but I’m not going to stop myself. That would be the end of everything, if someone caught me fucking the union head in my office. The ethical questions would be too much, and I don’t know how I’d try and fight any of it off, but right now, with Samuel’s big fingers sliding in and out of my pussy, I just don’t care. I only want him, and him alone.

Nothing else matters. Nothing else could feel this good.

I stroke him faster as his fingers rub my clit, sending pleasure rocketing through my body. I can feel his smirk as I stand up on my toes to kiss his lips. I love that grunt of pleasure he makes as my hands focus on the tip of his cock, working him in circles.

“I’m sick of this fucking teasing,” he grunts, pulling my hair back harder. He grabs my hips and turns me around, pushing me toward the desk, bending me over.

I look over my shoulder as he slaps my ass hard. I gasp and he smirks at me. His body is beaten and broken but he still has that cocky smile on his face, that big bastard. He teases me from behind with his cock and anticipation floods through me, needing him deep between my legs.

He pulls my hair again, making me look back at him. “Tell me you want me to fuck you bent over your desk,” he says.

“Fuck me, right here,” I gasp.

He smirks. “You dirty girl. Aren’t you afraid someone might catch us?”

“I don’t care,” I admit. “Please, Samuel. Just fuck me.”

He laughs softly, but he gives me what I want. He presses his thick cock deep into my dripping wet pussy, making me groan as he pulls my hair tighter.

He grunts his own pleasure as he fills me up. Pain and ecstasy war in my skin, making it so much sweeter as he slowly starts to pump, fucking me from behind.

I move my hips back, needing every inch of him. Samuel’s bigger than I’ve ever felt before, but I love the way he stretches me and dominates me. He’s twice my size and could easily throw me around. He fucks me rough, slaps my ass hard, pulls my hair back.

I turn to look over my shoulder and I notice a grimace as he strokes into me. It takes me a second to realize that he’s in pain, probably from his injuries.

I push back. “Come here,” I say, moving away from him. I take him by the hand and pull him over to a chair, making him sit. He doesn’t argue as I straddle him and slide my ass back and down, sliding all the way down his shaft.

He groans as I ride him, and that expression of pain is gone, replaced by pure desire. He cups my ass and I ride him faster, lips pressed against his. I’m sweating, fucking him, getting fucked, and it’s messy, dirty, fucking incredible. He bites my lower lip, pulls my hair back, and I grind my hips down around his big, fat cock.

“Goddamn, girl, you ride me like you were born for it,” he says.

“I’ve been needing this,” I admit to him.

He smirks. “I know it. Go ahead, girl. Come on my big cock.”

I grunt and groan as I ride him faster. He slaps my ass and I can feel it building deep in my core, that pure pleasure. It’s building and growing from the stress, the pain, the pleasure, everything mixing in this moment, everything coming together to push me closer and closer.

“Lose yourself on my cock,” he whispers in my ear. “This is fucked up, what we have together. We both know it’s wrong. But we both know it feels too fucking good to ignore.”

I groan and I know he’s right. He bites my bottom lip and slaps my ass again as I ride him faster, grinding and moving my hips, working myself into a frenzy. He guides me with his big strong hands, letting me do most of the work, but his heavy breathing and grunts of pleasure and the dirty words he whispers in my ear keep pushing me forward, faster and faster.

And I reach the peak. I come hard, but he doesn’t relent. He starts fucking me, thrusting into me as I orgasm hard on his big cock. He groans and I can suddenly feel his warm, spurting cum filling me up as we both get off at the same time.

It feels so fucking good. I almost black out, the pleasure is that overwhelming. I come hard and slowly come down as he pulls me close against him. We breathe like that together, his cock still inside of me, both of us sweating and tired and spent.

“You’re good at negotiating,” he says finally.

I laugh softly, shaking my head. I climb off him, and I try not to feel bad as he winces. He gets up and I help him get his shirt back on, then he helps me get my skirt back up. Once we’re dressed, I sit down in my chair again, catching my breath.

“Well, that was a productive meeting, Mr. Carter,” I say to him.

He laughs. “Yes, very productive.” He glances at the stack of papers on my desk and frowns. “Two days, Amelia.”

“Two days,” I repeat.

He nods and hesitates like he wants to say something more, but he just turns and leaves my office instead.

I sit there and watch him go. Once he’s gone, I lean back in my chair and stare at the ceiling.

I’m stuck in the middle of this, and I don’t know what to do. I want to help him so badly, but I just don’t know how. Still, I want more of him, I crave more of him. I need it so badly that it almost hurts.

And throughout it all, this baby is growing.

I pick up the stack of papers and start reading.