Chapter 9 Wen #3
He smiled against my neck, teeth nipping the pulse point. “Bossy.”
“You like it.” I pumped him harder, thumbing the slit, making him hiss.
“I fucking love it.” His voice dropped an octave, possessive.
His mouth replaced his hand on my breast, tongue swirling around my nipple before sucking it between his lips with a pull that made my toes curl.
I cried out, the sound sharp in the empty room, my fingers digging into his shoulders, leaving crescent marks.
He lavished the other breast with the same attention, licking, sucking, teeth grazing just enough to sting, while his hand slid lower, over my stomach, fingers splaying wide before dipping between my thighs.
His fingers found my pussy and I inhaled sharply at the contact, the rough pads parting my folds, slick with my arousal. He stroked through them, spreading the wetness he found there, coating his digits, and made a low, appreciative sound against my throat, the rumble vibrating my skin.
“So wet for me,” he murmured, voice thick with lust, two fingers plunging in knuckle-deep without warning, stretching me. “Always so ready. This pussy drips for my touch, doesn’t it? Clenching already.”
“Always for you,” I managed, my hips lifting toward his touch, fucking myself on his fingers as he curled them inside, hitting that spongy spot that made stars burst behind my eyelids.
He pumped his two fingers inside me, scissoring them to open me wider, the squelch of my juices obscene.
His thumb found my clit, swollen and throbbing, circling slowly with firm pressure, and I nearly came off the table, my back bowing, a whine escaping my lips.
The dual assault had me trembling, walls fluttering around the invasion.
“Mal,” I gasped, my voice breaking, hands fisting the edges of the table until my knuckles whitened. “Please. I need you inside me.”
“Since you asked so nicely.” He withdrew his fingers with a wet pop, bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean, eyes locked on mine, the sight filthy and possessive.
Then he positioned himself at my entrance, the thick head of him pressing against my hole, nudging my folds apart, teasing with shallow dips that made me whimper.
And then he pushed inside in one smooth thrust, bottoming out with a groan that matched mine.
We both groaned at the sensation, the stretch of him filling me completely, his girth splitting me open, the way he fit inside me like he was made for this, for me, veins dragging along my walls.
My pussy clenched around him instinctively, sucking him deeper, juices easing the slide but making everything slick and messy.
“Holy hell,” he breathed, his forehead dropping to mine, sweat beading on his brow. Our breaths mingled, hot and panting. “You feel incredible. So tight and wet, gripping my dick like a vice.”
“More,” I demanded, arching against him, trying to take him deeper, my heels pressing into his ass. The table dug into my back, but the fullness of him overrode everything. “I want more. And harder.”
“Anything you want, little mate. Anything.” The endearment sent a thrill through me, his voice rough with need.
He started moving, pulling almost all the way out, leaving just the tip kissing my entrance, before sliding back in, every inch dragging against my sensitive walls.
Every thrust hit that spot inside me that made my toes curl, sparks igniting low in my belly.
I wrapped my legs around him tighter, ankles locked at his lower back, drawing him closer, deeper, my calves flexing against his sweat-slick skin.
“Yes,” I moaned, the word a plea, my tits bouncing with each impact.
His hips snapped against mine with delicious force. The table creaked beneath us, wood groaning in protest. Neither of us cared; the world narrowed to the wet sounds of him pounding into me, my pussy squelching around his cock.
“Like this? You like it, little mate?” he asked, his voice strained with the effort of holding back, forehead pressed to mine, eyes fierce and locked on my face.
“Yes. God, yes. Don’t ever stop.” My hands roamed his back, nails scraping down to his ass, urging him on.
“Never,” he promised, his pace increasing until the sound of skin against skin filled the room, mixed with my gasps and his grunts. “I will never stop wanting you.”
He shifted his angle slightly, tilting his hips, and suddenly every thrust was hitting exactly the right spot, nailing my g-spot with brutal precision.
I cried out, a high keen that bounced off the ceiling, my nails raking down his back, leaving red welts I’d trace with my tongue later.
The pleasure was building, coiling tighter and tighter in my core, spreading through my limbs like fire, heat flushing my skin until I was burning up.
His thumb found my clit again, pressing and circling in time with his thrusts, firm, insistent rubs that made my vision white out. The pressure built relentlessly, my walls fluttering wildly around his cock, clenching in warning.
“I’m so close,” I panted, my inner walls starting to spasm, thighs quaking around him. Sweat slicked our bodies, sliding together.
“Come for me, little mate,” he commanded, his voice low and rough in that way that always drove me wild, leaning down to bite my earlobe. “Let me feel you come around my cock. Squeeze me until I fill you up.”
That was all it took. I shattered, pleasure crashing over me in waves so intense my back arched off the table, head thrown back as I cried his name.
“Mal! Fuck, yes!”
My inner walls clenched around him in rhythmic pulses, milking his length. Juices squirted out around his base, soaking his groin and the table beneath me, the release dragging on as tremors shook my body.
He followed right behind me with a guttural groan, thrusting deep one last time, grinding against my cervix as he spilled inside me, hot ropes of cum flooding my pussy, coating my walls, the warmth spreading thick and sticky.
His cock jerked with each spurt, prolonging my aftershocks until he was spent, hips stuttering to a halt.
He collapsed over me, barely catching himself on his forearms, both of us panting and trembling and completely wrecked, his weight a delicious press.
I could feel his heart pounding against my chest, matching the racing beat of my own, our mixed release leaking out around him, dripping onto the wood below.
We stayed like that for a long moment, him still inside me, both of us catching our breath.
Then I started laughing.
“What?” he asked, lifting his head to look at me with a lazy, satisfied smile.
“We just had sex on the council table.”
“Hell yeah we did.”
“Where we have important political meetings.”
“Yes.”
“I’m never going to be able to sit through another meeting without thinking about this.”
“Good,” he said, kissing me again. “That was the plan. Hope everyone scents how I made you mine right here for the rest of eternity, for as long as we keep having meetings in this damn room.”
I blushed at that, slightly embarrassed. We cleaned up as best we could, getting dressed with the clothes that weren’t torn apart, slowly because neither of us wanted to stop touching each other. His fingers kept finding my waist, my hair, my face. Mine kept finding his chest, his arms, his jaw.
“These are my favorite places now,” he said, helping me button my dress.
“What, meeting rooms?”
“Any place I can have you.”
“Cheesy.”
“It’s the truth.”
I kissed him again because I could, because we were good again, because I loved this man more than I could ever adequately express.
“We should probably actually check on Killian now,” I said reluctantly.
“Yes.”
He pulled me back against him, wrapping his arms around me from behind. “One more minute.”
I melted against him. “Just one.”
We stood there, wrapped in each other, both grinning like complete idiots. Ah, how I’ve missed this.