Page 74 of Rough Around the Hedges

I knew he would, too.

I kept my gaze fixed on his, and he did exactly as he said he would. He fucked me with his fingers while keeping his tongue fixed on my clit, and I clenched my hands into fists as my hips moved of their own accord, desperately seeking more of his teasing.

The look in his eyes as he sent an orgasm rolling through my body was pure smug elation, and it made me want to punch him, even as I twitched with pleasure.

This rotten bastard.

Oliver got his feet and undid the buttons of his shirt before quickly tossing it off. The clink of him undoing his belt drew my attention, and I blinked at him in my daze as he stripped.

Good God.

I’d forgotten that this man was a walking wet dream.

He stepped back between my legs and kissed me. It was harsh yet again, but a different kind of rough from before—this was a greedy, almost hungry kind of roughness that came from desperation. Like he’d suffocate if he didn’t kiss me, as if his entire world would come crashing down if he didn’t touch me right now.

I reached between us and took his cock in my hand to stroke it. He flinched, and his grip on me tightened. He pushed at me until my arm buckled, and I eased backwards.

Oliver pulled back and stood up, gazing down at me. I was flat on my back, his cock in my hand, and my other arm above my head. My breath hitched when he clenched his jaw and ground out a, “Fuck. Not like this.”

“Not like wha—ahhh!”

He moved back quickly and flipped me onto my stomach, then grabbed my hips as if to tell me to move closer to him. I eased back thanks to the robe between me and the desk surface,and he pressed his cock against me the moment my toes touched the floor.

He spread my arse with his hands, releasing one side only to guide himself inside me. The angle was unreal, and I gasped, arching my back as he pushed inside in one slow thrust.

A breath hissed out of him, and his fingertips dug into my skin, almost as if he was trying desperately to retain control of himself.

I couldn’t have that.

I didn’twanthim to control himself.

I pushed my hips back, taking him even deeper, and he froze. I bit the inside of my cheek to fight my smile, but he must have caught it because he leant right over me, burying his cock in me to the base, almost smothering me with his body.

“Do you,” he said in a low voice, cupping my jaw from behind. “Have any idea how hard I’m trying not to make a complete mess of you right now? And you’re lying heresmiling?”

“Do it,” I dared him, and my lower lip brushed against his thumb as I spoke. “I can’t stand you, and you can’t stand me, so mess me up. Mess me up so badly that I’ll never want you again.”

His grip tightened, almost as if I’d said the wrong thing, but he released me quickly and got up. Before I could think too much into it, he straightened up and grabbed my hips, digging his fingers into my shin.

And, as if my words had truly cut through what last bit of control he had left, he fucked me.

He fucked me like he hated me. Like he couldn’t stand the sight of me, as if he needed to get it over with so I’d get the hell away from him as quickly as possible.

Yet it didn’t feel like that.

He was rough but not selfish—fast, but not greedy. When I went onto my tiptoes, he adjusted his thrusts to match the angle of my hips, never quite losing that sweet spot inside me. Our heavy breathing mingled in the quiet of the office, and as each of his thrusts stoked the fire deep inside me, my moans and cries quickly became entangled with his husky groans of pleasure.

His hand slid up my spine and gripped my shoulder, pulling my body back against him. I had nothing to grab onto, nothing to facilitate an escape from his relentless movements, but that just turned me on more.

Yes,I thought.Like that.

Pin me down.

Make it hurt.

Make me cry.

Give me justonereason to never, ever want you again.

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