28. Mic Drop #3
I pushed two fingers inside her, curling them, and she was so hot, so tight and wet. I pumped my fingers in a steady rhythm, my mouth never leaving her clit. I sucked and licked. I flicked my tongue over her in rapid circles as I listened to her breath hitch and stutter.
“I’m… I’m going to…” she choked out.
“Come for me,” I demanded, my voice rough against her skin. I pushed a third finger inside her, stretching her, and redoubled my efforts with my tongue, sucking her clit hard.
She broke.
A raw scream ripped from her as her orgasm crashed over her.
Her body convulsed, her back arching wildly off the desk.
Her inner walls clenched around my fingers in rhythmic, pulsing waves.
Her release flooded my mouth, and I drank her in, licking and sucking her through every last tremor until she was sobbing, limp and shaking, her hands falling away from my hair.
I rose slowly, my knees protesting, my face wet with the evidence of orgasm. I looked down at her, sprawled across her own desk, blouse open, skirt shoved up, completely undone. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
Her dazed eyes found mine. A slow smile touched her swollen lips. “You’re still dressed,” she slurred, her voice wrecked.
“Your turn to fix that.”
She pushed herself up, her hands going to my belt and unbuckling it before yanking my zipper down. My pants and boxer briefs dropped to my knees, and my cock sprang free, painfully hard, glistening at the tip.
She wrapped her hand around me, stroking once, twice, her thumb swiping over the head. I hissed, my hips jerking forward.
“Now,” she whispered, her eyes dark with hunger. “Fuck me. Hard. I need to feel you.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. I gripped her hips, pulling her to the very edge of the desk as I positioned myself at her entrance, still slick from her release and my mouth. Looking into her eyes, I saw my own desperate need reflected back.
I drove into her in one deep, brutal thrust.
She screamed again, her nails digging into my forearms. She fit me perfectly. I held still for a moment, buried deep, letting us both feel the staggering fullness.
Then I pulled back and slammed into her again.
And again.
I set a punishing rhythm, the desk rocking with every thrust. The sound of our bodies meeting, skin on skin, the wet slap of my hips against her thighs, filled the silent studio.
I gripped her thigh, hiking it higher over my hip, changing the angle. On the next thrust, she saw stars.
“There! Oh my god, Dallas, there!” she shrieked.
I hammered into that spot, over and over, each thrust deeper, harder. Her head thrashed side to side, her breasts bouncing with the force of my movements. I was losing myself in her, in the feeling of her clenching around me, in the sight of her coming completely apart beneath me.
“Look at me,” I ground out.
Her glazed eyes found mine. I held her gaze as I fucked her, as deep as I could go.
“You’re mine,” I growled, the words ripped from somewhere primal. “Every perfect inch of you and I’m yours. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she sobbed. “Yes..” Her inner walls began to flutter around me again, the telltale sign of another peak. “I’m coming… I’m coming again…”
“Come with me,” I demanded, my own control fraying at the edges.
With a final thrust, I pushed her over the edge.
Her second orgasm tore through her, a silent scream on her lips as her body seized around me.
The vise-like grip of her pleasure was my undoing.
My own release exploded, hot and endless, as I emptied myself deep inside her with a roar that felt like it came from my soul.
I braced myself on my arms, our bodies still joined, both of us shuddering through the aftershocks. Our harsh breaths were the only sound in the room.
Slowly, I pressed a kiss to her sweaty forehead. She turned her face into my neck, her lips brushing my skin.
“The door,” she mumbled, her voice thick and sated. “Did we lock the…”
We both froze, staring at each other for one horrified beat.
Then I was moving, yanking up my pants while Davina scrambled to button her blouse, both of us dissolving into breathless, panicked laughter that ricocheted off the soundproofing foam.
By the time Abby's key turned in the lock, Davina was seated in her chair, hair only slightly disheveled, and I was leaning casually against the mixing board like a man who definitely hadn't just rearranged the entire desk.
Abby paused in the doorway, bags of food in hand, eyes narrowing. She looked at Davina. Then at me. Then, at the microphone stand that was now somehow facing the wall.
“I don't want to know,” she said flatly.
“Good,” Davina replied, her voice impressively steady. “Is that my burger?”
Abby handed it over, then stopped. “Why is your blouse buttoned wrong?”
Davina didn't miss a beat. “Fashion.”
I bit the inside of my cheek.
Abby looked at the ceiling as though asking God for patience, then disappeared into the control booth, muttering something about hazard pay.
Davina caught my eye and grinned, and I thought, yeah. This is exactly what I didn't know I needed.