Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Briony
I unbuckled his belt, and that scalding thing nearly hit me in the face.
Even though I'd seen it a few times now, the sheer size still made my stomach clench. I could hardly believe my body had managed to take this terrifying thing.
His cock pressed against my lips, the searing heat and rigid hardness making my body tremble. Slick fluid spread across the corner of my mouth. Each breath filled my lungs with his thick, primal scent. Then I opened my mouth, and that massive thing slid inside, filling me completely.
"You're incredible. So fucking tight." His voice rumbled against my eardrums.
Just hearing his praise made me wet. I worked my tongue harder, sucking with more enthusiasm. The hand gripping the back of my head pushed down. My throat was completely stuffed, and for a moment the suffocation nearly made me black out.
When the phone on his desk rang, reality crashed back. God. This obscene scene had no business happening in an office.
But Varlam didn't even blink. He picked up the phone casually. I could hear the woman's voice clearly.
"Mr. Petrov, the materials you requested are ready..."
He was actually taking a call while I did this. The man was insane. I should've known. Last night should've told me everything I needed to know. I tried to pull off, but Varlam had no intention of letting me go. The pressure on the back of my head only intensified.
"...I'll send them to your email."
My ears caught the word "email." At least she was just sending them to his inbox. I exhaled in relief, slowing my movements. Since he wouldn't let me stop, and I couldn't make any suspicious sounds, I had to be careful.
Varlam glanced down at me, his lips curving in the smallest of smirks.
"Print those out and bring them up, now." His voice was perfectly even.
My eyes flew wide. I must've heard wrong. Now? Bring them up? He was going to have the woman on the phone deliver documents to him while I was—
"No, Varlam!" The news shocked me into spitting him out. "She'll—"
"I didn't give you permission to stop." Before I could finish, he gripped my jaw and pushed his cock back in.
They continued discussing work, but I couldn't process a single word. The uncomfortable friction against my mouth was a constant reminder of what I was doing. How utterly shameful this was.
Varlam finally hung up. His stamina was unreal—still no sign of finishing. My tongue was getting sore.
I'd heard men's sexual energy declined after thirty. Varlam was clearly the exception.
"Come here." He tapped the space under his desk with his shoe.
It was spacious. Just looking at it, I could tell it would easily fit me. I crawled over as he swiveled, keeping him in my mouth. Even as I settled on my knees beneath the desk, it twitched against my tongue.
The moment I ducked under, a polite knock sounded at the door.
"Come in." Varlam's voice had taken on a different quality.
I heard the door open, then heels clicking across the floor, getting closer and closer until they stopped right behind me. My back went rigid.
"Mr. Petrov, here are the materials you requested, sorted and printed."
Papers rustled above me. Varlam flipped through them with complete composure. I didn't dare slack off, working him with my lips, tongue, and hands. But my movements were careful, quiet enough that even I could barely hear the wet sounds.
"Good work," he said.
He might've been talking about her work, but by the time those words reached my ears, they'd taken on a different meaning.
This secret thrill was something I'd never experienced before.
They said more, but I stopped listening.
Liquid pooled in my mouth. I didn't dare swallow, could only let it drip onto the carpet.
"You can go." Varlam's words fell like divine judgment.
"Yes, Mr. Petrov." The woman's heels gradually faded away.
The office returned to silence.
Varlam's chair rolled back, and that thick length withdrew from my mouth.
He hauled me out from under the desk and slammed me onto it. Papers and files scattered to the floor.
Before I could catch my breath, he crushed his mouth to mine. His hands were already shoving up my white t-shirt and bra, exposing my breasts to the cool office air. His palms cupped them, thumbs circling my nipples until they hardened into peaks.
I gasped into his mouth.
"Christ, look at you." His voice was rough, almost reverent. "These curves, this body, you're fucking perfect. And so responsive. I barely touch you, and you're already shaking."
He wasn't wrong. My whole body trembled under his hands as they mapped every inch of skin. He kissed down my throat, my collarbone, then closed his mouth over one nipple. The wet heat made my back arch off the desk.
"Varlam."
His hand slid down my stomach, fingers tracing the soft curve of my belly before hiking up my denim skirt to my waist. When he pressed his palm against my pussy through my panties, I nearly came apart right there.
"Soaked." He rubbed slow circles that made my thighs shake. "Does it turn you on, getting played with while someone else is in the room? Knowing she was standing right there while you had my cock in your mouth?"
Shame flooded through me, hotter than before. The memory of it—her voice, her heels, the secret thrill—made my lower belly clench tight.
"You're such a dirty girl." He hooked his fingers in the waistband of my panties and dragged them down my legs. "And you love it."
I couldn't even deny it. My body gave me away, slick and ready.
He unbuckled his pants, shoving them down just enough to free his cock. It stood thick and heavy between us, the head glistening.
"Watch." He gripped my thigh, spreading me wider. "Watch me fuck this pretty pussy."
I couldn't look away. He positioned himself at my entrance, and I watched as he started to push in. The stretch was immediate, intense. My body struggled to accommodate him, the tight ring of muscle yielding slowly as he worked himself deeper.
The visual was overwhelming—seeing myself spread open around him, seeing how much of him I was taking. My whole body went taut.
"Relax," he growled. "You're so tight you're gonna snap my dick off."
But I couldn't. Every nerve ending was on fire, caught between pain and pleasure as he filled me inch by inch.
Then he thrust hard, burying himself to the hilt.
"Fuck!" I grabbed his forearm, nails digging into his skin. The sensation was too much—too full, too stretched, the burn mixing with sparks of pleasure until I couldn't tell them apart. My eyes squeezed shut.
His hand gripped my jaw, forcing my face toward his. "Open your eyes. Look at me."
I obeyed, meeting those steel-gray eyes.
"Let's see where you run to this time." His voice was harsh, possessive.
The reminder of this morning—sneaking out of his bed like a coward—hit me. Before I could respond, he pulled back and slammed in again.
"Varlam!" My cry echoed in the office.
"That's right. Say my name." He set a brutal pace, each thrust driving me up the desk. "Let everyone in this building know who's fucking you."
His hands roamed my body, kneading the soft flesh of my hips, my thighs, my breasts. He seemed fascinated by every curve, every generous inch of me.
"Love these hips," he muttered, gripping them hard enough to bruise. "Love how soft you are. How you take me so perfectly."
The praise mixed with the relentless rhythm pushed me closer to the edge. My hands scrambled for purchase on the desk, knocking over a pen holder. It clattered to the floor, forgotten.
"Touch yourself," he ordered. "Play with those pretty tits while I fuck you."
My hands moved to obey, cupping my breasts, pinching my nipples. The added stimulation made my inner walls flutter around him.
"That's it. God, you're squeezing me so tight." He leaned down, biting my neck. "You gonna come for me? Gonna soak my cock?"
"Yes, please, I'm—" I couldn't form coherent words. The pressure was building, coiling tighter and tighter.
"Come, baby. Let me feel it."
The orgasm crashed through me. I cried out, my body clenching around him in waves. He didn't slow down, fucking me through it until the pleasure bordered on pain.
"Again," he demanded.
"I can't—"
"You will." His thumb found my clit, rubbing circles that made me see stars. "Give me another one."
The second climax hit before I'd recovered from the first. I was sobbing now, overwhelmed by sensation, by him, by everything.
"That's my good girl." His pace turned erratic, losing its rhythm. "Fuck, I'm close. Gonna fill this perfect cunt—"
He buried himself deep and came with a guttural groan. I felt the hot pulse of him inside me, felt him throb as he emptied himself. His whole body shuddered against mine.
We stayed like that, both breathing hard, sweat cooling on our skin. My legs were still wrapped around his waist, unwilling to let go just yet.
Finally, he pulled out. I winced at the loss, at the feeling of him dripping out of me. He arranged my skirt back down, the gesture almost tender—a stark contrast to how he'd just taken me apart.
I pushed myself up on the desk, my face burning from hairline to collarbone. This was nothing like what I'd imagined. Normal assistants managed schedules and answered phones. They didn't get bent over their boss's desk.
"Where's my underwear?" The cool air between my legs made the question suddenly urgent.
"For the rest of the day, you don't wear any."
"Excuse me?"
No way was I going commando in this office. My eyes scanned every visible surface, but that scrap of red fabric was nowhere to be found. When had he even hidden it?
"Put your energy into following my instructions and doing your job, not hunting for a pair of panties that are too wet to wear anyway." His grin was wicked.
What choice did I have? Order underwear online? My size wasn't exactly easy to find. And he was my boss. He wasn't giving me any other option.