Asa #2
"You feel... fucking incredible," he groans, his forehead dropping to mine. "So tight. Like you were made for this."
"I was," I gasp, my breath hitching as the pleasure starts to build, a tightening coil in my gut. "I was made for you, Eni. Don't stop. Harder."
He obliges, his movements becoming rougher, more feral. He pulls my legs higher, draping them over his shoulders and laying me back flat against the desk so he can sink even deeper into me.
I watch as he disappears inside me, inch by thick, glistening inch, and then pulls back nearly all the way before slamming home again.
The friction is a white-hot brand, a sensation so intense it borders on pain, but it’s a pain that I crave.
I grind my ass against him, trying to take every bit of him, my body working in perfect, desperate sync with his.
He reaches down between our joined bodies, his hand wrapping around my cock with pressure that nearly sends me over the edge.
"I’m going to come," I cry out, my body beginning to shake. "Jorak, I'm going to—"
"Not yet," he growls, his voice a command that I have no choice but to follow. He slows his pace, the long, deep strokes stretching out the pleasure until it’s a form of torture.
He watches me unravel, his expression one of dark, possessive triumph.
"Not until I say. Look at me, baby. See what you're doing to me. "
He’s sweating, his hair damp and clinging to his forehead, his jaw locked with the effort of his own restraint.
He looks vulnerable, even in his dominance, and the sight of it is what finally breaks me.
I slide my legs down to wrap around his waist again before reaching up and pulling his head down, whispering his name like a prayer against his lips.
"Now," I beg. "Please. I can’t... I can't hold it anymore."
He lets out a sound that’s almost a roar and begins to pound into me with a final, desperate intensity. I meet him thrust for thrust, my ass clenching down on his cock as the first waves of my orgasm tear through me.
I scream his name, my body arching off the desk, my fingers fisting in his hair.
Everything goes white, the world dissolving into a series of pulsing, golden sparks.
I can feel him coming with me, his own body rigid as he thrusts one last time, burying himself as deep as possible as my release coats his fist and my stomach.
He sinks farther into my ass, his knot swelling inside me, stretching my ass even further, filling me until there’s no room left for anything else.
Jorak collapses against me, his breath hot against my shoulder.
We stay like that, joined, as his knot continues to pulse and swell.
The fever has broken. The static is gone.
There’s only the warmth of him and the slow, steady drip of his release as it begins to fill me.
I wrap my arms around him, holding him as if he might disappear if I let go.
I don't care about the desk. I don't care about the papers on the floor.
I don't even care that someone outside this office most definitely just heard what happened.
We stay like that for a long time, the only sound the hum of the HVAC and the distant, muffled noises of the university outside.
Eventually, the swelling begins to recede, as Jorak pulls back slightly, his eyes still dark but softer now, a lingering tenderness in the way he brushes a stray hair from my forehead.
"You're still shaking," he says, his voice a low rumble.
"It’s the aftershock," I murmur, my voice sounding like it's been dragged over gravel.
I grimace as he pulls out completely, cum and slick pooling between my legs.
I reach down and pull my shirt together, though the missing buttons make it a futile effort.
"Jorak... what are we doing? This is... this is a disaster.
Academically. Politically. Biologically.
" I look around the office, the reality of our situation finally beginning to settle back in.
"It's a career suicide note," I continue, my sarcasm returning as a defense against the vulnerability. "I’m going to be fired, and you’re going to be sent somewhere, and the ESA will probably turn us both into a cautionary tale in a textbook I used to teach from. Or I’ll end up in a lab but I just... I need you and I... used to hate that."
Jorak doesn't smile, but the corner of his mouth twitches.
He reaches out and cups my jaw, his thumb tracing the line of my lower lip.
"Let them try," he says, and there’s a cold, lethal certainty in his voice that makes my skin shiver for an entirely different reason.
"They don't know what you are, Asa. They don't know what we are together. I won’t let Mercer hurt you. "
"But how does this work?" I ask, the mathematician in me looking for a formula where none exists. "How do we bridge the gap? S-class, F-class... professor, student... Enigma, Omega. The variables don't add up. Something is going to break sooner or later and this need, it’s... they won’t let you go and I can’t work like this.
" I gesture down to my cock that’s already half-hard again.
Jorak leans in, his forehead resting against mine.
He pulls me close, his arms wrapping around me with a strength that’s no longer frightening, but purely, devastatingly protective.
"Then we’ll build a bridge for it when we get there," he says.
"Right now, we’re just two people in a locked room. Let that be enough."
I close my eyes and lean into him, the scent of cedar and whiskey finally settling the last of the tremors in my hands. “And when it’s no longer enough?”
“Then I will find us a bigger room.”
I hate how certain he sounds, how sure he is that he’ll be able to protect me.
And yet, I just curl into his chest tighter.
“I need a change of clothes,” I mumble after a few moments.
He just laughs, the sound rumbling through me and slowly turning into a purr.
“And my nest.” His hands move to the underside of my thighs, Jorak carrying me to my office grouping of pillows and blankets. “And you,” I finish selfishly.
“I’ll stay as long as I can, Asa.”