8. Chapter Eight
Vaughn
S coring a goal from the halfway line or beyond would have been a much easier feat to accomplish than breaking the first kiss; a dim light of reason has slipped through a crack in my mind. But then, I see the look of desire in her eyes when I pull back, and I instantly know that the deal is sealed.
I ravish her lips with mine as I pull her further into me, and her body melts against mine. The feel of her perky breast against my chest gets me unbelievably hard, and even though my mind is clouded with lust, I can’t help but gasp lightly at how she can get me this hard.
Am I that attracted to her?
Rachel is anything but idle. She reciprocates my kiss with the same intensity, matching my energy with each movement and each caress until I can’t take it anymore. I wrap my hands around her waist and hoist her upward. She wraps her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck. She doesn’t let my lips catch a break, and I love it!
The foot of my injured leg stubs against a chair as I make my way to my big desk. I pull her in closer until my rock-hard member presses against her tightly. Still, I drown out a moan escaping her mouth by kissing her even deeper to suppress a yelp.
I sweep my hand over the desk, and I slap her ass on the spot. When I pull back, I don’t think of catching my breath before unbuttoning her shirt. Besides, who says I can’t do both at the same time?
Rachel’s cheeks are red, her eyes filled with desire but also with doubt. She reminds me of Jessica again, and a wave of painful nostalgia washes over me. But the bare, perky breasts that shoot in front of me make those thoughts vanish like the wind. I pinch a nipple, and she lets out a stifled moan, making my zipper beg to be unzipped.
“This is wrong, Vaughn. We should be doing this—oh my God . . .” She gasps when I free my cock from its prison.
No better expression in this world would have told me she wanted this as much as I do, and I let her know that by whispering it in her ear.
“So stop pretending.”
A look of surrender flashes on her face, and that only fuels me even more. I undo her pant buttons, and in seconds, I am already inside the lush heat of my secretary, fucking her as if my life depends on it!
She writhes, gasps, and moans with each stroke. Her legs wrap tightly around my waist, pulling me into her wetness, urging me on even more as I fuck her even harder.
I feel my orgasm approaching. This feels so damn good that I don’t want it to end soon, but I’m not in control. I empty my load into her, letting out a loud groan of pleasure. She pulls me in by the neck, her breath coming in quick gasps, her nipples digging gently into my chest with each breath.
Post-nut clarity hits hard as soon as I come down my high mountain of bliss, and the realization of what has just transpired hits me like a moving train.
I step back and regard Rachel, who quickly averts her gaze as soon as our eyes meet. But I see enough of her face to notice a crimson blush rise up her cheeks. She hops down from the table, confused and disoriented, and starts dressing up—all the while, avoiding my eyes.
I feel I am not able to utter a single word, and I hate it. But what could I have said to my secretary at that moment?
“ Hey, Rachel, this should not have happened, and I am sorry for fucking you?”
“Oh, don’t worry about it. It’s just sex, and everything will just be fine.”
But would it? Would everything truly be fine after this? Shit. I’m done fucked up.
I watch as she storms out of my study, and despite the deep feelings of regret plaguing my mind, an unreasonable urge to follow her swept through me. What we just had felt so normal and so real.
Snap out of it! It’s still wrong! I scold myself, a wave of shame sweeping over me.
And with the last ounce of self-control, I stayed put and just watched.