Private Moment
He didn’t hesitate.
Rowan shoved the chair back from the desk so fast it scraped the floor, metal legs screeching—then his hands were on me, possessive, hot, dragging me upright onto his lap like he needed me closer than skin would allow. My thighs bracketed his, skirt hitched up already from the struggle, and I felt him—hard, thick, grinding up through his slacks against the soaked lace between my legs. My breath caught as he bit my neck, not gently.
“God—fuck, Rowan,” I gasped, hips shifting, seeking pressure.
“I told you,” he murmured, voice a low, fraying wire in my ear. “You started it. You wore that damn blouse, those heels. And now you think I won’t take you apart?”
I barely had time to moan before he yanked the fabric open, buttons popping, the snap of thread giving way loud in the silence. My bra followed, shoved up rough enough that the underwire scraped beneath my tits, nipples hard and aching in the sudden cool.
He groaned when he saw them. “Look at you. Christ.”
And then his mouth was there, wet heat dragging across my nipple, tongue flicking, teeth grazing just enough to make me cry out. “Ahh—nnnhh, fuck, that—!”
I clutched his head, grinding down on him, desperate now, completely undone. He suckled hard, lips sealing around one sensitive bud, pulling until my back arched and my cunt throbbed. Then he switched sides, rougher, wetter, slapping my ass when I bucked too hard.
Smack!
I gasped, hips jerking.
“You like that?” he growled, voice wet against my skin. Another smack, this time a little harder. The sting bit through the haze, sharp and addicting.
“I—fuck, yes, yes—”
He kissed down between my breasts, tongue tracing the sweat gathering in the valley there, then surged up, hauling me against him as he stood. I wrapped my legs around his waist, instinct and desperation colliding, and he staggered us to the windows. The skyline burned behind the glass, all steel and gold, dusk dripping off the horizon.
He pressed me to it, bare tits mashed against the cool pane, nipples flattening with a gasp. The contrast made me shiver.
“See that?” he whispered behind me, fumbling my panties aside as he dropped his slacks, cock springing free hot and ready against my soaked slit. “All that city, and they don’t know I’ve got you right here. Dripping. Begging.”
“Please,” I whimpered, forehead thunking gently against the window. “Please, Rowan, I need it—I need you.”
“You’ve got me.”
And then he slammed into me in one vicious thrust.
“Ahhh—fuck!”
My cry echoed off glass, off steel and air and evening sun. He filled me so deep I swore I could feel him in my lungs, the stretch brutal, perfect, demanding. His hands gripped my hips, holding me in place as he began to fuck me—fast, hard, the kind of rhythm that left no room to breathe.
Thwap. Thwap. Thwap.
The sound of our bodies echoed obscenely, wet and sharp, slick from how ready I was for him. His cock dragged through every nerve-ending, angled just right to make my legs tremble.
“That’s it,” he snarled. “Take it. Take all of me. You want to act like a brat in meetings, you get fucked like this.”
My nails scraped down the glass, streaking condensation as I tried to keep upright. But he didn’t let me fall. He pulled my hips back to meet each thrust, hips slamming into mine over and over until the glass shook under the weight of our lust.
He leaned forward, biting my shoulder, breath searing. “You gonna come for me, Remi?”
“Y-yeah—oh fuck, I’m close, I’m—”
He reached around and thumbed my clit, circling it with brutal precision. The moment his touch hit me there, I shattered.
“Rowan! F-fuck—fuck!”
My climax ripped through me like wildfire, pussy clenching around his cock, dragging him deeper, tighter. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see, only feel—heat and wet and the shudder of my body in his arms.
And he didn’t stop. He growled, deep and feral, hips pistoning faster, the sound of it obscene. Then he stiffened, gasping through gritted teeth as he came, cock twitching deep inside me, filling me with hot, pulsing ropes.
“God—Remi—fuck!”
His forehead dropped to the back of my neck as he emptied himself inside me, panting, cock buried to the hilt. We stayed like that, frozen against the glass, the city still rushing below, my skin damp with sweat and his come already starting to drip down my thigh.
I turned my head, eyes meeting his in the reflection.
“Well,” I rasped, lips curving. “Guess we really did miss that meeting.”
He laughed, deep and hoarse. “I’ll schedule another.”
His hand slid back to my ass, possessive.
“After all,” he murmured, “I’m not finished with you yet.”
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