28. Catriona #2
The back of my head hits the table, and I gasp for air as aftershocks rock my body.
Something cold drops onto my stomach.
My vision swims as I see Rian gazing down at me with raw passion, lips parted and teeth glinting like on a feral animal.
A spike of lust-infused fear hits me. He’s like a wolf, ready to ravish me.
He unzips his trousers, and I realise the cold thing on my stomach is a condom.
My heart, which has started to slow its pace, revs up.
Rian’s large cock springs free from his boxers, the head shiny and dark. Ripping the condom open with his teeth, he slides it over his length and pumps it through his fist a few times while looking down at me with his frightening wolfish grin.
“Say you want it,” he growls and runs the tip of his cock up and down my wet slit.
“Please,” I mouth as my body jerks with renewed need.
Rian positions himself at my opening, the blunt head pushing my flesh aside. I brace myself as much as I can.
He thrusts forward.
I gasp and throw my head back. He is so big, it’s almost painful.
His low, animalistic growl strums my core as he pushes further in, all the way.
Stretching me. He stops for a second, his eyes squeezed shut.
Then he pulls his hips back and thrusts forward, and I forget about the world around me.
His fingers dig into my hips where he holds me in place as he pistons into me over and over.
My shoulders ache and the edge of the table bites into the back of my legs, but all I feel is how his every thrust fills me up and burns a path along my slick insides.
“Fuck, you feel so good, Cat,” he grunts between desperate pants. He hikes one of my legs over his arm, hitting me differently, deeper.
“Ah – yes…”
I squeeze around him. His breathing changes.
“Fuck!” His speed increases, slapping against my skin, jolting my body on the table.
“Oh-my-god-Rian,” I hiss as he rubs my clit. “I’m going to come again, I’m going to – I’m…”
My muscles seize up, and my vision turns white.
His hand clamps down hard over my mouth.
Fireworks go off in my core, colourful explosions timed with every thrust of Rian’s hips.
From far away I hear him muffling his own moans against my breast. His body is a tight coil as he pumps into me a final time, his cock pulsing.
“Cat…” He collapses on top of me, his weight pressing down on my arms that have gone numb. All of me has gone numb.
A high-pitched laugh. Rian stills. Slowly he lifts his head. His hair is damp at the temples, and his cheeks are flushed. His eyes search mine and he swallows tightly.
Fuck, what did we just do?
He removes his hand from my mouth, and I breathe in greedily while watching his gaze travel down my body, wincing at the sight of a bite mark on my breast.
Another loud laugh from just outside the office, and he pushes off the table. I flinch as he pulls out of me. Hurriedly, he deposits the condom, fastens his trousers and tucks his shirt into the waistband.
I’m still lying on the table, legs dangling over the edge and unable to move. Rian pauses for a second, his gaze roaming over my body one last time.
Then he grabs my waist and helps me to stand. My shoulders ache and tingle as he undoes the knot. I lean against the table to keep my balance on my unstable legs while I quickly fix my bra and pull the top back over my head.
Rian crouches down and holds out my panties. I step into them, and then we do the same with my trousers. Everything is done quickly, mechanically, hastily.
All dressed, he takes a step back while fisting his dark hair.
“Shit! You look like you just got fucked!” he exclaims.
I snort, and he closes his eyes briefly, shaking his head on a chuckle.
I shift on my feet and clear my throat. “Do you have another shirt?” I point to his chest. “It’s kind of sticking to you.”
He glances down. I wouldn’t mind him taking it off so I can get a good look at those tight abs that I can glimpse through the damp material.
“Fuck,” he mutters and slips on his jacket from the back of his chair. “You, um, you need to tighten your bun, it’s a mess. Why don’t you use my bathroom?”
“Oh, yes. Good call.”
I rush to his bathroom and do my best to hide the evidence of our actions. Cold water cools my red cheeks, but I can’t do anything with my swollen lips – lips swollen from biting down on them.
Not from kissing.
We were just fucking on his conference table, yet we haven’t shared a single kiss. I take a deep breath. There is no time to muse over that issue now.
I find Rian sitting behind his desk when I re-emerge from the bathroom. He’s resting his forehead in one hand, his head tilted to the side while watching me approach his desk. I fidget with my jacket sleeves.
“Ice queen, you’re going to be the death of me.” He shakes his head and his words are soft when he asks, “Do you still hate me?”
I don’t know why a smile tugs at my lips. “More than ever.”
Rian laughs quietly before he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes while leaning back in his chair. When he opens them, his normal cold mask is back on his face.
“That will be all, Miss Taylor. You can go,” he says in a loud, harsh tone.
I straighten my back, lift my chin and make my eyes as hard as ice.
“My pleasure, Mr Kearney,” I reply with an equally cold voice.
“And mine…” I hear him mumble as I stride out of the office.