Kimmie
The cool, polished wood of my desk is a stark contrast against the sudden, fiery heat pooling between my thighs. Natan’s hands are enormous and calloused as he smooths his palm up my leg. His breath shuddering from him as he reaches the heat I can’t hide.
I’ve spent weeks admiring him from afar. This broad, quiet, intimidating man who holds the door open for me.
I feel entirely, brilliantly safe.
“Natan...” I whisper, my breath catching as his large hands gently part my knees wider.
He doesn’t hesitate. Kneeling between my legs, he gathers the pink-striped fabric of my dress, pushing it up until the chill of the gallery air hits my skin. His pale gray eyes look up at me, heavy-lidded and dark with a fierce, possessive intensity that sets my skin on fire.
“You are so beautiful, Kimmie,” he rumbles, the low vibration of his voice sinking straight to my core. “So full of light.” He shrugs off his jacket and throws it on the chair he kicked aside moments ago.
Before I can process the raw devotion in his words, his mouth settles against the inside of my thigh, leaving a hot, lingering kiss that makes my toes curl. My hands instinctively fly to his thick hair, my fingers tangling in the dark strands as he shifts closer.
My body moves on its own now, without any direction from me. Leaning back just a little.
When his warm breath brushes directly over my now-damp thong, a shudder wracks my body.
I’ve never done this before. I’ve never had anything like this before.
My ex-boyfriend made me feel like it was dirty and not what real boyfriends did.
But with Natan, the sharp edge of my hesitation simply melts away.
He hooks his fingers into the soft fabric of my underwear, sliding the thong down my legs with agonizing patience, and pocketing it.
He parts my knees again, lifting them until my heels are pressed on the edge of the desk for leverage.
When he inhales, his nostrils flare and his eyes darken.
He presses a hand to his crotch, adjusting himself with a low groan.
The instant his lips press against my center, a sharp, gasping cry escapes my mouth.
The sensation is overwhelming, hot, wet, and incredibly focused. Natan swirls his tongue over me, finding a rhythm that instantly makes my hips arch off the desk. He anchors me in place, his hands gripping my hips tightly, keeping me pinned to his mouth as he drinks me in.
“Natan, please,” I beg softly, completely lost in the swell of pleasure rolling through me.
He growls against my skin, the sound dark and primitive, and increases the pressure. Every stroke of his tongue builds a tight, unbearable coil deep in my stomach. I grip his shoulders, amazed at how someone so massive and terrifying can bring me to the absolute edge of sanity with such precision.
The tension snaps all at once.
A burst of intense warmth ripples through my whole body, and I cling to him, crying out his name into the quiet air of the gallery. Natan doesn’t pull away; he coaxingly licks through the crest of my climax, soothing the sensitive flesh until my desperate gasps slow into soft, shivering breaths.
Slowly, he rises, brushing a soft kiss against my trembling lips. He cups my flushed face in his broad hands, his gray eyes searching mine with an adoration so thick it takes my breath away all over again.
“Better than worrying?” he murmurs, a rare, wicked smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He looks devastating like this. His good looks sharpening into something sinful and…mine.
I chuckle weakly. “You have no idea.”
“No,” he says. “You have no idea.”
He takes my hand and places it over him. He is huge and hard through his trousers, and my mouth opens in a small ‘o’.
“I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want you, Kimmie,” he says, lowering his face to kiss me. He kisses me gently, a slow, deep press of his lips that draws a lingering sigh from my chest. The raw, intense hunger from seconds ago turns into something painfully sweet.
Before I can fully catch my breath, he hooks his arms beneath my thighs and lifts me off the edge of the desk.
“Natan—”
“I’ve got you,” he rumbles softly.
He doesn’t carry me back to the ladder or toward the door.
Instead, he sinks down onto the smooth, polished floor, taking me with him so that I’m sitting directly in his lap.
The cool floor beneath us doesn’t matter; the heat radiating off his huge frame is more than enough.
I’m aware that my center is naked against the fabric of his trousers, and try to move a little so I don’t mark him with my arousal.
“Nuh-uh,” he says, pressing up against me, pulling a surprised sound of anticipation from me.
“But your trousers—” His whole suit looks expensive, and I don’t know how I’d explain it if I took it to a dry cleaner.
“I don’t care,” he says, his eyes hooded now as they follow his hands over me. “I want to be marked by you. I want you to be marked by me, Kimmie.”
He pulls the ribbon at my side, my dress opening for him, then he pushes it from my shoulders as he thrusts upwards again.
A jolt of pleasure zaps through me again, and I reach back without thinking to remove my bra. While he unbuttons his shirt and twists to pull it off.
My boobs aren’t my favorite feature. They are large and hang heavy. Not like the ones you see on celebrities where they manage to defy gravity.
But when Natan looks at them, his pupils blow and he grunts “fuck,” my opinion of them changes instantly.
“Fuck, Kimmie, I’m not going to last,” he says, regret tangling with desperation. “You’re so hot, so beautiful, so fucking perfect.”
He groans, his cock twitching against me beneath the fabric of his trousers.
His words embolden me, and I pull open his belt, slowly undoing the fly of his trousers.
He brings his hands to my wrists.
“Don’t touch me,” he says. “Not yet. I just need a second.”
I nod, unable to believe that I’ve brought a man like him to a trembling wreck.
“I want to make you feel good,” he says, eyes closed now as his head drops back to the floor.
“You did,” I say, still not touching him. There’s a growing circle of moisture on his boxers. I fight the urge to put my mouth on it.
“I don’t just want to blow my load like a horny teenager. I want to fill you up with my cum, but I want you to enjoy my cock.”
“Just take a breath, Natan,” I say quietly, reaching for either side of his waistband and pulling everything down at once. He lifts his hips to help, and I leave them around his knees.
“Breathe,” I say again as I take him in my hand. He hisses a breath between his teeth, and his balls tighten. His cock throbs in my hand. I wait for the initial spurt of cum, but when it doesn’t come, I line him up to my entrance.
He is thick. Thick enough that my hand doesn’t entirely circle him, but my entire nervous system seems to be screaming for him to be inside me right now.
I take it slow, sinking onto him, breathing through the stretch as his hands come to my thighs and squeeze.
By the time I’m fully seated, I’m panting with the exertion of it.
I’ve never felt so full, and I’m glad he is so close, because I don’t think I could ride him right now if my life depended on it.
Instead, I lean forward, placing my hands on his shoulders and make a small circle with my hips.
He groans, his body tensing beneath me.
“Open your eyes, Natan,” I say as I make another circle, moaning at the fullness of having him inside me.
He does as I ask, keeping his eyes on mine. He exhales, a long, shuddering sigh and moves his hands to my hips, pressing me down as he arches up, pushing himself further into me.
“You look so amazing on top of me,” he says, still not taking his eyes from mine.
I rotate my hips again, and this time, he hits the spot inside me that gets me to where I need to be. He must see the change in my face, because his thumb immediately goes to my clit, pressing firmly as he pulls out and thrusts back into me from below.
“Yes, Natan,” I call out before I forget words entirely. He pistons his hips between my thighs, holding onto me with one big hand, and letting me use the other for the friction I need. I lean back, changing the angle so he bumps against my g-spot more frequently, and then my vision goes to stars.
The waves of orgasm are punctuated by sounds I don’t think I’ve ever made before, but I don’t care.
I manage to open my eyes and watch as he comes apart beneath me.
It all happens in a blur of motion, his hand coming from my hip and scooping around my ass as he rears up, flipping us over and driving himself deep.
“Yes,” he shouts. Grunts align with his thrusts as he empties himself inside me. His face twists and then softens as he moans, the muscles in his chest quivering as the last of the orgasm works its way through him.
I look up at him from my new position, my hands holding onto his broad shoulders. With his dark hair tousled and his pale gray eyes fixed entirely on me.
Natan’s breath hitches, his calloused hand moving up to my ribs to just hold me.
“You have no idea what you just did,” he says, forehead resting against my chest.