Chapter 5 #5
Samantha smiled at me, her eyes still bright and lovely even in the near dark of the office, and she raised her hand to my cheek, stroking my face slowly as she looked into my eyes.
“I thought you liked Amy,” she said, laughing a bit.
“Amy?” I said, laughing. “Your assistant, that Amy? I mean, she’s certainly not bad looking, but…” I swept one of my hands through Samantha’s hair and cradled the back of her head. “But no one quite infuriates me like you, Samantha.”
“And,” Samantha said with a breathy gasp. “I assume infuriates is a good thing.”
I suddenly pinned Samantha down on the mattress and looked in her eyes. “Oh, darling, you have no idea.”
I kissed her ravenously, sighing at the feel of her plush lips moving against mine, and only then did I really understand how much I wanted her, how much I wanted this.
Samantha responded enthusiastically, running her long fingers through my hair and tugging me closer to her.
With that one kiss all of our walls came crumbling down, the dam that we had built with our fights and petty arguments could no longer sustain the desire we had both denied for so long, the frantic need we had for each other that had always slowly bubbled underneath the surface.
I ran my hands across her body, I couldn’t get enough of her, I would never be able to pull her close enough.
Samantha got to work on the buttons of my white work shirt, discarding it on the office floor with a flick of her hand.
Samantha sighed as I ran a hand up her leg. “I can’t believe we’re…” she traced her fingers across the golden expanse of my chest. “I can’t believe I’m…after everything.”
“Do you still want to?” I asked.
“Oh god, Johnathan,” she said, pushing herself back up and crawling into my lap. “Yes.”
As we kissed, I reached up under Samantha’s skirt and tore her pantyhose off, ripping them on the way down.
“Oops,” I said with a smirk, holding the ripped pair up for her to see and then tossing them behind me. Samantha barely seemed to notice and pulled me down to her again.
We kissed each other with the kind of aggressive enthusiasm only two people who had once been bitter rivals could conjure up.
I found the zipper on the back of Samantha’s black pencil skirt and slid it off her legs to find a practical, but still ridiculously sexy, pair of dark red lace panties underneath.
We continued to slowly strip each other down until Samantha was left in her mismatched lingerie, her red panties and black bra, and I was left with just my gray silk boxers.
We kept kissing each other madly, and neither of us could resist flipping each other over from time to time in our endless war for dominance, the war that had covertly followed us into the bedroom.
Suddenly Samantha pulled me up, and I smiled eagerly as she dragged me out of bed and into the conference room where we had labored the early part of the day away.
“What are you doing?” I laughed, still shaky with breath from her kisses.
Samantha ran one of her neatly manicured hands over the tent in my boxers and backed herself onto the mahogany conference room table. She laid herself down slowly, spreading herself across the middle of the table, and I knew what she wanted.
“It’s…always been a fantasy of mine…” Samantha explained, the dark wood highlighting every curve of her perfect skin.
“The doing it on a table, or the me doing you on a table?”
Samantha shook her head and giggled. “This always comes back to your ego, Torver, I swear.”
I crawled onto the table and leaned over her, looking into her eyes with a cocky smirk. “Tell me.”
She pulled me down to kiss me. “Fine, yes.”
I shook my head in disbelief, still laughing. “You loathed me, Sam, and you fantasized about this? The whole time you hated me you’d spend hours fantasizing about me fucking you on the conference room table?”
“Hours? Please, Johnathan, don’t flatter yourself,” Samantha scoffed.
“You sure?” I whispered, raising an eyebrow.
Samantha ran a hand down my chest. “If you’re so confident about this, why don’t you just get on with it then?”
I slipped her panties off and flung them away. “Fine,” I said, smirking at her and kissing the inside of her neck. “We’ll see how long you fantasize about this when I’m finished.”
Samantha let out a desperate moan as I entered her, and I gasped as I began to move inside her.
I covered her hand with mine, roughly pinning it against the cold wood of the table.
After all these days of fighting and feuding and flirting at this very table, finally she was really mine, and I was hers.
If you had told me on the day I met Samantha Doyle, not all that long ago, that I would eventually fall for her, that I would let her into my mind, let her drive me insane with need for her, I would have never believed it.
But here I was. Here I was with this very same woman, making love to her, tangling my fingers in her dark hair and running my hands over her breasts, listening to her sigh underneath me.
Just when I felt like I was starting to come close, Samantha flipped me over and got on top of me.
I groaned as she rode me harder, and then faster.
The sight of her moving over me, her body illuminated by the candlelight and throwing all sorts of scandalous shadows across the wall, was a sight I wasn’t going to forget anytime soon.
I brought my fingers down to Samantha and she moaned, still riding me with a vengeance. I felt her coming undone around me and I gasped at the sensation, throwing my head back until all I could see was the falling snow from out the window.
“I’m getting close,” I said, pleading her to continue.
“Hm…” Samantha said, running her hands across my stomach. “I’ve gotten all I need from you.” She smiled mischievously. “I could just stop here.”
I sat up in a single motion and pinned Samantha down underneath me. “I don’t think so,” I said, and she grinned.
I buried my face in her neck and kept moving inside her until I finished with a groan of pleasure. Samantha sighed as I rolled off her, and we spent what felt like an eternity staring up at the ceiling in joyous disbelief.