The moans leaving my throat were low and gravelly, blending together like a purr of satisfaction. Down below, my lover’s cock was thick and hard. I could feel it throbbing wildly inside me, even as he pumped it in and out of my body.
I leaned back on my elbows to watch him work me, and in the process bumped into his mouse. Lincoln smirked at me before sweeping everything on his desk back with one big arm, clearing the way to fuck me properly and without any further collisions.
“You feel… so fucking good…”
I nodded my acknowledgment, still whimpering. Still reeling from the giddy sensation of taking him so deep and long. My new lover’s thrusts were slow and controlled, as if he were measuring the success of each one. He seemed almost surprised when I grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled him to me again, kissing him hard while keeping buried inside me.
Jesus, Holly. Are you actually doing this?
I was. I was doing it, I was enjoying it, and I wasn’t the least bit ashamed. In my heart, as well as within my fantasies, I’d always dreamed of enjoying him. And I knew by the way Lincoln treated his family he’d be a sweet, thoughtful, and wholly unselfish lover.
Or at least, so I’d hoped.
Maybe, the little voice in my head admitted reluctantly. But should you really be fucking someone you work for?
Technically, I worked for myself. Lincoln Wallace was only a client, and one of many. My biggest and most profitable client, sure. But still just a client.
That was the story I was going with, anyway.
“Oh fuck, Holly…”
A little devil on my shoulder laughed. I’d been hearing a lot of that phrase recently.
This isn’t you. This isn’t—
One last time I shoved away the voice of reason, or guilt, or whatever the hell it was. I wanted to enjoy this. Lincoln was an associate, a friend, a client. Now he was a fantastic date, and a lover as well. He’d asked me out before any of the others. I was doing nothing wrong.
“Ohhhh…”
On the contrary, judging by the lost look in his eyes? I was doing everything right.
We were screwing harder now, my body bouncing in rhythm with his long, deep thrusts. The desk itself didn’t budge a single inch — a testament to its construction. It was heavy and well-built. Expensive.
Kind of like Lincoln, I laughed inwardly.
My lover lifted my legs over his shoulders to take me deeper. His hands went to my breasts and pulled down the top of my bra. Then he began rubbing my nipples in slow, arousing circles that made my eyes roll.
Mmmmmmmm…
I could feel the familiar ache rising up inside me. My body began making greedy adjustments, independent of my brain. I found myself rocking back against him on the longer thrusts, screwing my pussy hard against his pelvis. My hands began pulling at his arms, urging him into me.
“I need to see it,” Lincoln said, his breathing growing rapid.
“See what?”
“Your ass.”
His hands went to my waist, and suddenly I was sliding back to my feet. Lincoln spun me around and bent me over his desk, so quickly and commandingly I felt myself gush a little. Then he was lifting my skirt… and sinking back into me from behind.
“FUCK.”
It was more a grunt than a word, but I loved it. I also loved the feel of his hand on my back, pressing me downward, into his desk.
“That better?” I chuckled huskily.
Lincoln was already busy fucking me. His strong hands roamed the curve of my ass, stopping now and then to cup my cheeks and squeeze them in his warm palms.
“Much,” he groaned.