Chapter 5 #2
Something primal flashed in Baron’s eyes—a hunger that transcended the clinical, controlled doctor she knew. He captured her mouth in a bruising kiss as his hands pushed his slacks and boxer briefs down just enough to free himself.
“Tell me you’re sure,” he demanded, his voice a graveled command against her ear as he positioned himself at her entrance.
Penny’s answer was to wrap her legs around his waist, her heels digging into the backs of his thighs, urging him forward. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
Baron’s control—that legendary, iron-clad restraint—snapped. With one powerful thrust, he buried himself inside her to the hilt. They both froze, overwhelmed by the sensation of skin against skin, nothing between them but heat and need.
“Oh god,” Penny gasped, her inner walls clenching around his thickness. The stretch was exquisite, bordering on too much, but perfect in its intensity.
Baron’s forehead pressed against hers, his breathing ragged. “You feel incredible,” he growled. “So tight. So wet.” His hands gripped her hips with bruising force. “I’m not going to be gentle.”
“I don’t want gentle,” she confessed, raking her nails down his back beneath his shirt. “I want you to make me feel it tomorrow.”
Something dark and possessive crossed his features. He withdrew almost completely before slamming back into her, the force of it sending papers cascading to the floor. Penny cried out, not caring who might hear beyond the locked door.
Baron set a punishing rhythm, each thrust driving her closer to the edge.
The desk creaked beneath them, the sound of skin against skin filling the air alongside their mingled breaths and moans.
His hand slid up her body to wrap around her throat—not squeezing, just holding, a dominant claim that made her inner walls flutter around him.
“You like that,” he observed, his voice clinical even as his body drove into hers with animal intensity. “You like knowing I could take control.”
“Yes,” she admitted, the confession torn from somewhere deep inside her.
His thumb pressed lightly against her pulse point. “I would never hurt you,” he promised, even as his hips snapped forward with enough force to make her breasts bounce. “But I will make you mine.”
The dual sensation of his tenderness and dominance was too much. Penny felt herself spiraling toward another climax, this one building even more intensely than the first.
Baron’s free hand slipped between them, finding her swollen clit with unerring precision. His touch was both clinical and devastating—he knew exactly how much pressure to apply, how to circle that sensitive bundle of nerves until Penny was writhing beneath him.
“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice a dark caress against her ear. “Let go for me.”
His hips maintained their relentless pace, each thrust driving deeper than the last. The polished mahogany desk beneath her creaked in protest, medical journals and patient files scattering to the floor.
The lunch she’d brought lay forgotten, the scent of lemon chicken mingling with the heavier musk of their joining.
Penny’s hands clutched at anything she could reach—his shoulders, his hair, the edge of the desk. Her body was no longer her own; it belonged to the rhythm Baron created, to the electricity arcing between them.
“I can feel you tightening around me,” he growled, his professional composure completely shattered.
His glasses lay forgotten somewhere on the floor, his hair falling across his forehead in a way she’d never seen before.
Gone was the collected neurosurgeon; in his place was a man consumed by primal need. “You’re close, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she gasped, her voice barely recognizable. “Baron, please—”
He shifted his angle slightly, and suddenly each thrust hit something so exquisite inside her that stars burst behind her eyelids. The hand at her throat tightened fractionally—just enough to make her pulse race, to remind her who was in control.
“Look at me,” he commanded. “I want to see your eyes when you come.”
Penny forced her heavy lids open, meeting his midnight gaze. What she saw there undid her completely—possession, yes, but also something tender, something that made her chest ache even as pleasure coiled tighter in her core.
“Mine,” he whispered, the word hanging between them like a vow.
That single syllable was her undoing. Pleasure crashed through her in violent waves, her inner walls clenching around him with such force that Baron hissed through clenched teeth. She arched against him, crying out his name as her entire body convulsed.
The sight of her coming apart beneath him snapped the last thread of Baron’s control.
“Don’t stop,” she begged, her legs tightening around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back. “I need to feel you. All of you.”
Something wild and reckless passed between them—an acknowledgment that they were crossing a line, taking a risk that neither of them would have contemplated in the cold light of reason. But here, in the heated sanctuary
The sight of her coming apart beneath him snapped the last thread of Baron’s control. His rhythm faltered, growing erratic as his own release approached. For a brief, lucid moment, he seemed to remember their lack of protection.
“Penny,” he gasped, his voice strained. “I should—”
“Don’t stop,” she begged, her legs tightening around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back. “I need to feel you. All of you.”
Something wild and reckless passed between them—an acknowledgment that they were crossing a line, taking a risk that neither of them would have contemplated in the cold light of reason. But here, in the heated sanctuary of his office, caution seemed like a distant concept belonging to other people.
With a guttural groan, Baron surrendered.
His hips slammed against hers once, twice, three more times before he buried himself to the hilt and shuddered.
The sensation of him pulsing inside her, filling her with wet heat, triggered another climax that tore through Penny’s body like lightning.
Her nails raked down his back, leaving marks she knew would sting in the shower later—a thought that sent a perverse thrill through her.
They stayed locked together, panting, sweat-slicked skin cooling in the sterile air of his office. Baron’s forehead rested against hers, his breath warm against her lips. The enormity of what they’d done—of the line they’d crossed—hung between them, unspoken but undeniable.
“I’ve never,” he began, his voice rough at the edges, “done anything like that before.”
Penny’s fingers traced the damp hair at the nape of his neck. “What? Had sex in your office?”
“Made love in an office,” he corrected and Penny melted.
He kissed her then, softer than before, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips with exquisite tenderness. When he pulled back, a rueful smile curved his mouth.
“Your lunch is probably cold.”
Penny laughed, the sound breaking the tension. “I think that’s the least of our concerns right now.”
Baron eased himself from her body with careful gentleness, both of them wincing slightly at the sensitivity. He didn’t immediately move away, though. Instead, his thumb traced the reddened marks his fingers had left on her hips, his expression a mix of pride and concern.
“Did I hurt you?”
“No,” she said truthfully. “You marked me. There’s a difference.”
Something primal flashed in his eyes. “I like seeing my marks on you.”
“I like wearing them.”