Chapter 16 #2
I stand between his knees without my skirt, unsteady inside my heels. He brings the fingers he used on me to his mouth. His tongue removes the shine from them while he watches my face.
The sight makes my pussy tighten again.
"Turn around," he says.
I face the table.
Behind me, Konstantin rises and closes his body over mine. With one hand between my shoulder blades, he lowers me onto black wood cool against my cheek before spreading my legs with one polished shoe.
Paper shifts under my forearm. Across the table, the printed map still holds the last address connected to the man who watched me. Konstantin covers it with a closed folder before dragging my hips toward him.
His belt opens behind me.
I hear the zipper and the low sound he makes when his cock comes free. He runs the thick head through my wet pussy, coating himself without entering. "Tell me."
"Fuck me."
He pushes inside.
On the first stroke, he fills me so completely that my breath leaves against the table. Already loose from his fingers, my body still strains around the stretch of his cock as I reach for the far edge. At my hips, his grip draws me back until his pelvis meets my tender ass.
The contact burns.
I moan into my folded arm.
After withdrawing, Konstantin drives into me harder. Beneath us, the table moves, sending a pen toward the edge and onto the carpet while he establishes a punishing pace.
Every thrust forces my heated skin against him. The pleasure borders on too much, driving me to push back for more. He holds my hips where he wants them. My stockings drag over his trousers. The lace around my thighs twists as he fucks me across the place where he conducts meetings.
"You wanted to know what my hands could do," he says near my ear.
One of them slides under me.
His fingers find my clit again. He keeps his cock buried deep while he circles the swollen flesh. My body has no distance left from him. His chest presses over my back, the wool of his suit rough against my sweater, while his mouth moves along the side of my neck.
I turn my face and find his lips.
The kiss is rough, broken by the movement of his body. He catches my lower lip between his teeth while his fingers bring the pressure higher.
My second orgasm reaches me faster.
I come around his cock with a cry he swallows. My thighs shake against the table. He stays deep while my pussy contracts around him, driving pleasure through my body until I can barely support my weight.
Konstantin pulls out.
His hand closes around his cock behind me. A moment later, hot semen spills across my lower back and then over the curve of my ass. His breath leaves against my neck while he holds me still beneath him.
The office grows quiet except for the fire.
He doesn't step away at once. One arm crosses my waist, keeping me against him while the strain leaves his body. His mouth rests near my temple, and I turn my face closer to his.
"Can you stand?" he asks.
"Probably."
"That wasn't confidence."
"My legs have been occupied."
He lifts me before I can test them.
A private washroom opens beyond the bookshelves. Konstantin carries me inside, setting me on a marble counter while he wets a cloth with warm water. He cleans my back first, removing every trace of his release. A second cloth passes gently between my thighs.
When he turns me to examine my ass, I catch our reflection in the mirror. His shirt has come loose at the waist. My sweater is pushed above my hips, with my stockings crooked around my thighs. Color deepens across my skin in broad marks from his hand.
He touches each place with the back of his fingers. "Too much?"
"No. It was exactly what I asked for."
Konstantin opens a small cabinet, finding a jar I didn't know existed. The cream inside smells faintly of aloe. He smooths a thin layer over the hot skin, watching my face whenever his touch reaches a tender place.
After he pulls my underwear into place, he carries me to the leather sofa near the fire. My skirt follows over one arm. He brings water without calling anyone into the room, then sits beside me while I drink.
The serious meeting remains on the other side of a closed folder. My patient form has gone with the security chief. Desire hasn't erased the argument or bought my compliance, and neither subject has been confused with what happened over the table.
"If one of your people asks my clinic for private records again, I'm still coming in here to argue," I say.
"You should."
"Even if I'm not wearing this skirt."
"Wear the skirt."
I laugh into the water glass.
He takes it from me after I finish, placing it on the low table. His hand settles over my knee. The man who ordered me across his lap waits without touching anywhere tender until I lean against him.
I came here to make him lose the restraint he carries through every public room. He did, but my argument was heard before he touched me. Every touch afterward began with my yes.
The heat still burning across my bare skin belongs to that yes.
When I stand, Konstantin fastens my skirt himself. His fingers linger against my hip after the clasp closes.
"The next time you provoke me in front of my men," he says, "the consequence will be one you're already hoping to earn."
The heat in my body tells me he's right.