Juliette
I lie there on the table, papers sticking to my damp skin, my body still pulsing with aftershocks.
My legs tremble where they rest against his shoulders.
I have never felt anything like this. Not the raw pleasure of him filling me twice, not the way he looked at me like I was the only thing in his carefully ordered world worth wrecking.
My mind, usually so sharp with numbers and manifests, is blissfully quiet except for one repeating thought: more.
I want more of him. I want to feel him lose control again because of me.
I am as insatiable as he is, and the realization sends a fresh wave of heat through my core.
Serik's fingers are still inside me, gently pushing his cum deeper like he really means to breed me before we even say our vows. The possessiveness of it is almost frightening, but I find it makes me clench around his fingers, greedy for every drop.
He watches me with that intense, recalculating stare, his chest rising and falling as he catches his breath. Slowly he withdraws his fingers. I feel the loss immediately, empty and aching.
I don’t move. I stay sprawled across his ops table like an offering, legs still spread, chest heaving. "Don’t stop," I whisper, my voice rough. "I want more, Serik. I need you again."
His eyes darken. A low, satisfied sound rumbles from his chest.
He grabs my hips and drags me off the table.
My feet barely touch the floor before he spins me around and bends me forward over the glass surface.
The cool glass presses against my breasts and cheek, a sharp contrast to the heat of his body behind me.
I brace my hands on the table as he kicks my legs wider and more detritus falls to the floor around us.
He lines himself up and thrusts in deep with one smooth stroke. I moan, the new angle hitting deeper. He feels even thicker like this, stretching me in every direction.
"You enjoy draining my cock?" he growls, one hand fisting in my hair as he starts to move, hard and steady. "Look at you, bent over my table like you were made for this."
I push back against him, meeting every thrust. "Yes."
He groans and picks up speed, the sound of skin slapping skin bouncing off the glass. "You want to milk me dry, don't you? Feel me empty everything I have into this perfect pussy."
His words send sparks down my spine. I clench around him, and he curses under his breath.
"You like that my balls are aching for you, because of you?
" He reaches around to rub my clit in tight circles, never slowing his thrusts.
"You've got me addicted already. I can't get enough of filling you up. You’re so cum-hungry for me, squeezing my cock with your tight pussy… such a greedy little cunt you have."
I cry out, the pleasure building fast again. The harbor spreads out below us through the glass, but all I can focus on is him behind me, inside me, claiming me so thoroughly that nothing else exists. I am dripping down my thighs, our combined mess making every slide wet and obscene.
"Serik," I gasp, pushing back harder. "More. Don't hold back. Fuck me. Fill me."
He fucks me savagely, relentless and deep, his dirty words pouring over me until I shatter again, quivering and pulsing around him. He follows right after with a deep groan, burying himself to the hilt and flooding me once more.
“Are you done, or do you need more?” he asks, roughly, bending over me until his mouth is near my ear. “I’ll go all day, Juliette, even if it kills me.”
“I’m done.” The words come out shivery and uncertain, my legs still shaking and my core aching in a way that feels final.
“Good.” He releases me and helps me to stand before pulling me against his chest where I can feel his heart beat against my back. “If you ever need me or my cock, you say so. I never want to find you taking matters into your own hands unless it’s on my explicit instructions. Do you understand?”
His words send a thrill through me as ways to disobey him and what that might mean run through my mind.
“I need an answer, Juliette,” he adds, nipping at my shoulder as one of his hands comes around to cup my breast and the other one cups my mound.
“Yes,” I say.
With one last squeeze of both his hands, he releases me and steps back, pulling his boxers and trousers back into place.
“I think we’ve finished with work for the day,” he says. “Let’s go find dinner.”