AVA

 

Christopher lifts me up by my ass, shoving me onto the desk and manhandles me into a position where my legs are spread and he can slot his hips between them.

“Stay with me,” he orders, and I know it’s not just about staying with him in the here and now. He wants me to take that damn job, and devote myself entirely to him and his firm. He runs his hands over my breasts and I sigh into the feeling. He pinches my nipple, hard, and I want to moan but I hold it in biting down on my lower lip.

I won’t give him his answer while he’s fucking me. I won’t let myself make that kind of decision while my head is only half-working.

I’m wet enough that I can feel it soaking through my panties. It’s a good thing I’m wearing thin pantyhose and I’m not ruining a pair of pants. He’s starting to become hard and I can feel it swelling against my pussy. The air fills with our harsh breathing and I glance over Christopher’s shoulder at the door, locked and sturdy, and wonder if his intern can hear us.

Will he hear me moaning in a few minutes?

I will definitely be moaning in a few minutes.

He reaches up to undo the first button of my blouse. When I go to help him, he slaps my hands away.

“Let me,” he orders.

Letting my hands fall to my sides, I allow him to take over undressing me, though he fumbles a bit in his impatience. I can feel his eyes raking over my skin as he slowly unbuttons my blouse. The air is warm and my nipples are already erect from arousal. When my blouse is gone and crumpled in a ball in the corner, he leans forward and takes one of my nipples in his mouth.

“Shit,” I gasp, immediately threading my fingers into his hair and holding him in place.

His hands are on my hips, holding me so tight it almost hurts, and he’s pressing his bulging pants against my crotch to let me know how much he wants me. It’s that feeling of having him pressed against me that turns me on the most.

I try to hitch my leg against his hip, to grind against him, and his hand leaves my hip to slap me hard on the ass. I groan. The slap sends sparks of pain as well as pleasure through me.

I almost expect him to scold me for being impatient, but he seems just as eager. My groans spur him on and he reaches between my legs to grapple with my pantyhose. The tell-tale rip of his irritated fingers tearing them splits the air. He pulls his hand away to knead my ass and it sends a fresh shot of arousal through my body. Christopher shoves his hand back into the hole he made in my pantyhose, pushes aside my underwear, and thrusts two fingers inside of me.

“Fuck.” I let my head fall back, enjoying the way my entire being seems to focus on his two fingers. He curls them and thrusts in and out, and my hips start to shift and curl to meet him.

Christopher pulls away from my nipple and the blast of cold air I feel makes me shiver again. He slides his free hand up my body, curls it into the hair at the base of my skull, and kisses me. I moan now, hard, because this is something arresting. His lips and tongue move over mine with expert precision and all I can do is hang on for the ride. There’s no way I can take control of this kiss. There’s just no way. He’s too good, too strong. His hands grip my hair with the kind of feral power that makes me powerless to resist and I don’t want to.

When I start to thrust my hips harder, desperate for friction, Christopher growls into my mouth and pulls my hair, sharply putting an end to our kiss and looking me in the eye. His lips are pink and quirked up at the edges.

“You really want it, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I say, and realize I’m breathless. “Please.”

He pulls me into another kiss, before shoving me back so I’m lying on the desk with my legs splayed and my pussy open to the room. Christopher’s still fucking me hard with his fingers and he’s growling again and it’s hot. Even more so because the way he moves is so controlled. It’s like there’s two sides to him–the raw, animal lust that wants to ravish me, and the carefully controlled man who keeps a courtroom so enthralled. Rubbing against my clit, he sends toe-curling sparks right through me. I feel myself getting wetter by the second. While leaning down to bite down on the top of my breast, he hitches my leg around his hip again at the same time he delivers another squeeze to my ass.

“Oh my God,” I cry, throwing my head back and trying to arch my back to give him better access to my breast, while at the same time thrusting my hips. I must look ridiculous but I can’t bring myself to care.

He spanks me and sucks so hard on my breast it’s almost starting to hurt, before leaning back on his heels and begins to unzip my skirt.

“You’re so wet, aren’t you?” he asks. His voice is husky and low and I feel it running through me, stimulating almost as much arousal as the slaps and the grinding. “I can’t wait to taste you, baby.” He slides my skirt off before I can answer, then my panties, leaving me utterly exposed. I have never, in my life, met someone as commanding as the man now looking down at me like I’m a meal and he can’t decide where to start.

This man is going to destroy me.

He takes a moment to admire me, all stretched out on the desk and clearly eager for him. I’m not even trying to take control, I can’t. I’m pliant in a way that I could never be in any other situation–allowing myself to be maneuvered into position, accepting his touches–but at the same time I try to push back, to encourage him, to demand his touch.

My pussy is wet and I can imagine it shining as he plunges his fingers brutally into me. A dozen thoughts run through my head as he stares down at me. He lifts my legs up onto his shoulders and I moan when his face disappears into my skirt. There’s a brief moment before he touches me when he pulls his fingers out and I’m left bereft and empty. Then he runs his tongue over my clit and I throw my head back, bashing it hard on the mahogany surface but too blissed out to care about the pain.

He sucks my clit into his mouth at the same time he delivers another knead to my ass.

“Shit,” I gasp, arching my back whilst pressing my pussy more firmly into his mouth.

He sucks hard, pausing every now and then to swirl his tongue over me and squeeze the cheeks of my ass with both of his hands. It feels like the entire bottom half of my body is being stimulated. I quickly dissolve from gasping and moaning to swearing and writhing. He sucks particularly hard and makes me squirm so violently that I nearly pull myself out of his grip. I suddenly realize my hands have not been idle. I don’t know how it happened, but I’m clutching his head with my left hand, pressing him harder against me, while my right hand is fondling my breast in a way that reminds me of him.

Suddenly, his sucking stops and he runs the tip of his tongue over the surface of my clit so rapidly that the feeling is like he’s replaced his tongue with a vibrator. My voice leaves me, my brain goes haywire, and I fall over the edge of a powerful orgasm that runs through my entire body. I tweak my nipple without meaning to and my whole body spasms as the pleasure stretches through me in jolts of agonizing ecstasy. I lay for a moment on the desk, poised, before relaxing, muttering swear words as I go while feeling the last heavy throbs in my pussy.

Christopher dips his tongue down to run along the edge of the hole and I feel the muscles contracting around the tip of it. I shiver again.

“You’re fucking delicious,” he says while licking his lips. He stands up and drops my hips, unbuckling his belt and his lowering his zipper. I moan and spread my legs more, opening myself up to him, hoping for more and more and more.

But then, instead of shoving his cock inside of me, he rubs my clit with his thumb. He watches me with black eyes as I slowly come undone all over again. I feel my eyes rolling in the back of my head, and my hips thrusting up and up, humping his hand, until I come again.

I’ll never let this man go.

The girls at Fever sometimes complain about guys getting rough with them. There are panic buttons in all the back rooms for that exact reason. Christopher has never exactly been gentle, but I find I love that about him. He will probably be leaving bruises all over me, and I think I’ll enjoy seeing his fingerprints littering my skin in a few days.

“Ready, baby? There’s more to come,” he whispers with a devilish grin.

Christopher lines himself up and slides right into my still-throbbing pussy, before falling into a brutal rhythm that quickly makes me gasp and sigh. He plunges into me so quickly and with such force I have to scramble to hang onto the desk. All of my attention is suddenly and deliciously focused on what’s happening on my back and between my legs.

He grips my hips and presses his fingers in viciously, with intent, and the way he growls when I flinch makes me think he wants me to put up a bit of a fight. I buck back and am rewarded two-fold—his cock plunges deeper into me directly striking my G-spot and making me moan, and he swats me on the ass with an open palm.

“Be good,” he says.

“Sure thing, Mr Cole!” I reply.

He growls again and I feel the noise through my back and right into my chest. He fucks me harder, hitting at just the right angle to viciously attack my G-spot, bringing me closer and closer to the brink of a third orgasm, until my throat goes dry from being hung open in a silent scream. My forearms are shaking with the effort of holding myself up and I need to dip down the front half of my body just to give myself a break–which only serves to tip my hips a little more, exposing myself further, leaving me more open to his attack.

My back is slick with sweat. My hair is a mess. I’ve never been fucked this hard in my life.

When we started this little affair, I’d half-thought fucking Christopher wouldn’t be any different to using a toy. But this is on a whole other level. When I’m alone, there isn’t the warm, heavy presence of Christopher draped across my back, his sexy grunts as he fucks. Christopher cages me in and fucks me mercilessly, making me feel safe and overwhelmed and so fucking needy that I can’t think straight.

His bruising grip on my hips lifts me up to just the right height and another attack on my G-spot sends me blazing through another orgasm. I scream through it, reveling in it. He doesn’t stop fucking me until I’m lying twitching on the desk beneath him, until his cock inside me starts to border on painful, until my pleasured moans become tinged with pain. Then, and only then, does he begin to shudder and groan above me.

Christopher lets his head fall onto my shoulder. I’m pressed between his heavy, hot body and the hard mahogany desk. I realize there was a stack of papers on the desk at one point, but now they’re scattered on the ground. When did that happen? My elbow is resting on his keyboard and my bare breasts are squished beneath me, but I’m too hazy with pleasure to think of how ridiculous we probably look laid out together like this.

Finally, Christopher pulls away. His cock falls out of me and I wince at the sudden loss. I immediately miss his presence on my back and inside of me. I always feel like this after sex with Christopher. Like there’s something suddenly missing. Am I willing to risk this to keep my independence, to keep the job I worked so hard to get?

“Stay here,” Christopher says, and he sounds just as wrecked as I feel.

He leaves me there and I wait, laying sprawled out and spread-eagled against his desk. Even if I wanted to pull myself into a more dignified position, my arms and legs feel like jelly and I’m breathing like I’ve just run a marathon. My pussy feels so well-fucked.

Christopher disappears into the executive washroom.

How long would I have to be working here before I get one of those?

When he reappears he’s holding a damp cloth, and it’s only then that I realize we weren’t using a condom. He looks at me with pursed lips before walking around to dab the cloth between my legs, gently cleaning me off.

“I’ll pay for the morning after treatment,” he says simply.

I nod, doing a quick calculation in my head and realizing that I’m probably too close to my period to get pregnant anyway. Still, better safe than sorry. How the hell had we gotten so carried away that we forgot to use a condom? I’ve never wanted someone so badly that I forgot to cover up.

Finally, Christopher finishes cleaning me up and I can finally bring myself to push away from the table. I pick up my blouse and throw it over my shoulders, feeling the pleasant ache running through my body from his ministrations. It isn’t until I’ve straightened my skirt and sorted out my pantyhose to cover the hole that I realize he’s staring at me and that he hasn’t spoken one word since we finished.

I turn slowly as the sound of silence stretches in the room. Christopher is standing next to the desk with his hand resting near the lamp. His pants are back on and his shirt tucked in, making it difficult to believe he hadn’t just spent however long it took fucking me into his desk. The only impression our fuck session made is a soft shine of high color to his cheeks and a ruffle to his hair. He’s staring me down, surrounded by the mess of his files and computer, waiting for me to tell him I want to leave Page & Sons and join him here.

And that’s when I realize…

He needs me to accept this. He can’t force this relationship. He can’t force me to be his. That’s something I need to decide for myself, and no matter how much he seems to think he has the power in this situation, he’s only powerful if I allow it. He only dominates if I submit. So the question is whether I want to.

I amble toward him, watching his eyes scan me as he tries and fails to pretend he’s not nervous right now, waiting for me to give my answer.

“I will work for Benson & Cole,” I say. Before he can open his mouth to reply, I hold my hand up to stop him. “But, leaving Fever is non-negotiable. I will, however, consider cutting back my hours at Fever if you can make yourself more available in the evenings.” I lean up and peck lightly at his lips.

He pulls away, scowling. “So we both lose?”

“We both compromise,” I say. “We both adapt.”

“So we lose.”

“You want to really lose? Keep this shit up. I’ll walk away and find one of the apparently… dozens of men I spend time with when I’m not with you. Honestly, what a stupid thing to think.”

He looks like he’s chewing on his tongue. I stare him down. I’ve thrown down the gauntlet and now he has to decide if I’m worth it. If not… well, it will hurt. It will hurt a lot. But not more than it would have hurt to leave everything I’ve earned just to keep him.

Finally, he sighs and runs a hand over his hair, pushing it back into place. “I don’t like it when men hit on you. But, I’m grateful you’ll accept the offer here at Benson & Cole.”

“Neither do I,” I reply. “I also don’t like it when women ogle your ass in the courtroom or grind on you at Fever. But I put up with that.”

I peck him on the lips again and he allows it. When I do it a second time he kisses me back, slowly at first, then more passionately. He holds me against his chest like he never wants to let me go.

“Fine,” he says, finally. He’s twirling some of my hair and pulls just hard enough for it to hurt. “But you’re mine now.”

I smile into the kiss and throw my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to show him exactly how happy I am with that.

And you’re mine.