As much as he loved what he was doing, I loved it, too, and encouraged him with my gasps, with each movement of my hips and the moisture that flowed as he thrust two big fingers inside me and hit a particularly sensitive spot. I wasn’t a virgin—not even close—but I’d still never felt so free and unrestrained as I did in that moment, with his explicit instructions and the way he demanded my pleasure, wrenched it out of me. My nipples buzzed with every twist, and I wound my legs around his head as I felt myself teetering on the edge. He groaned his approval and just licked even faster, capturing my clit between his teeth and fluttering his tongue against it until I gave it the fuck up with a loud cry.
Ian’s licks gentled, thrusts slowing as my pussy contracted around his fingers, until he withdrew entirely and sat back on his heels. His eyes glowed into mine as he licked his lips.
“Take your clothes off,” I said. I didn’t bother to close my legs to his roving gaze or to try and cover any part of my nakedness. I felt like a wild-haired goddess under that dark gaze, and I wanted to seize every scrap of my power. “Now.”
One corner of that sensual mouth kicked up as he grabbed the hem of his shirt, shucking it smoothly as he rose to his feet. He toed his shoes off next, fishing a condom out of his pocket before he unbuckled his belt and let his pants and boxer briefs fall to the floor. His lean muscles flexed, tattoos moving like they were alive as he stepped between my legs and pulled me in for a wild kiss. I tasted myself on his lips, and it just excited me more.
I wrapped my fingers around his dick as he made love to my mouth, brushing a thumb around his fat, weeping crown and relishing his groans as he thrust into my hand.
“Turn around,” he whispered against my lips.
Those strong hands helped me off the desk and whirled me around, encouraging me to bend at the waist until my breasts and belly pressed into the cool wood surface. I whimpered—at the sudden chill against my sensitive skin or the hot brush of his cock against my backside, I wasn’t sure—but those inarticulate sounds turned to moans soon enough as he trailed hot, damp kisses along my spine and slid his slick, latex-covered cock inside the snug space between my thighs.
“What do you want, Samantha?” he whispered against my ear.
“You,” I replied, my voice a soft, needy whine.
He thrust again, spearing through my pussy lips, until his tip bumped my still-sensitive clit. “You want my dick?”
“Yes,” I whimpered desperately.
“You want me to fuck you?”
Every slight movement of his cock against my most sensitive flesh rocketed through my nervous system, until each breath was a ragged gasp and I could only think of more, more, more, and the only word on my lips was a hissed yes.
And he answered me, laughing darkly against my ear as he slammed home with such power and strength that my palms squeaked against the surface of my desk.
“Again,” I said, my eyes rolling back in pleasure. “Harder . . . deeper.”
Ian was rough with me, snapping his hips as he grasped a hip with almost bruising strength. And I loved his aggression, as much as I adored the sweet, gentle sex we’d shared that morning. It was all him, and I wanted every piece. As much as he could give me.
And even as he fucked me with punishing speed and force, his hands glided over my body with exquisite care, teasing my sensitive skin and sliding under me to pinch and stroke my still-sensitive clit.
“Fuck, sweetheart. Fuck,” he rasped as my snug passage clenched around his thick cock. “You feel so goddamn good.”
My nipples scraped against the pits and scars in the wood, sending lightning down to my center, while Ian’s fingers—those beautiful, talented fingers—they ruined and remade me, until my world narrowed down to just him and me, that exquisite fullness, the slap of our bodies together, the breathtaking friction that threatened to wreck me all over again.
“I’m close,” he ground out, slamming against my ass so hard that I felt his heavy balls slap against my clit. “I’m so fucking close.”
He pinched my clit, a silent command to come, and I did, mouth opening wide in a wordless scream as he stiffened and shuddered long and hard against my back.
Ian sagged behind me as our bodies trembled with the aftershocks of our orgasms. He pressed soft kisses to my damp skin as I—as we both, I suspected—wondered what had really just passed between us.
It wasn’t just hot sex, that much I knew.
Eventually, the sweat on our bodies cooled, and with shaky legs and wondering hearts, we climbed the creaky stairs. After a shared shower, where we exchanged few words, just gentle kisses and soothing touches, we climbed into bed, meeting in the center of the mattress to slide our arms around each other and enjoy the drowsy quiet.
“Has it ever been like that for you before?” I asked. It certainly hadn’t for me.
Ian’s arm tightened around me and he pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. “No,” he said, half to himself. “With you, everything is different.”