Page 41 of Falling for the Forbidden
“What are you waiting for?” I moan. My voice doesn’t even sound like my own.
“Just making sure I commit this to memory. I might need it one day.”
His words darken the mood a little, but it’s soon forgotten when he sits forward and reaches behind him to pull his t-shirt over his head.
He drops it to the floor before wrapping his fingers around the lace at my hips and pulling my thong down my legs. Lifting my arse to help him, coldness surrounds me until his warm breath replaces it.
I moan before his lips even touch me. Just the sensation of the stream of air he blows across me is enough to have me racing towards my release.
His tongue licks from my entrance all the way to my clit, my hips lift, and his arm rests across my lower stomach to keep me in place.
“Oh God, Ben,” I moan as he teases around my clit and then lower, circling my entrance but never giving me quite what I need. “Please, please,” I chant, threading my fingers in his hair and trying to force him deeper.
“All in good time, baby,” he says, pulling away and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
Standing to full height, my eyes drop to his sculpted chest and then down to his waist when he starts undoing his jeans.
Biting down on my bottom lip, I impatiently wait for what I want, what I need.
He doesn’t bother removing his jeans and boxers. Instead, he just pushes both down his thighs once he’s pulled a condom from his pocket.
My muscles clench as I watch him rip the packet and roll it down his length. “Ben,” I moan impatiently.
When he turns his eyes on me, they’re dark, hungry, and possessive.
Everything about what we’re doing right now is wrong, but it doesn’t feel that way. What we’re doing feels like the most natural thing in the world.
I whimper when he rubs the tip of his cock between my folds. I fall down onto the cold desk when he starts pushing inside me. The sensation takes over and I go limp as I enjoy everything he gives me.
My hips burn where his fingers grip tightly and the edge of the desk digs into my arse, but I don’t care. I don’t care about anything when he’s touching me.
Needing more, his hands skim up my body. One tangles in my hair, lifting me from the desk to find his lips. His tongue invades my mouth and mimics what his cock’s doing lower down in my body.
My hands run up his back before my nails scratch all the way back down. He growls and, if it’s possible, thrusts deeper inside me.
“Holy shit, Lauren,” he groans when he pulls back from my lips. “Let me feel you. Let me feel you milking my cock.”
“Oh God,” I whimper as the first tingles of my orgasm erupt within me. “Oh God, Ben!” My body thrashes about in his arms as I give myself over to the pleasure. My head drops back as wave after wave rolls through me. It’s only seconds until Ben swells inside me and I feel the first twitch of his release.
Ben pulls me tight against his chest, and we stay locked in our embrace as our heart rates decrease and our breathing slows.
I’ve no idea how much time passes, but eventually I pull my face from his neck and look up into his bright eyes. “So, was fucking me on Dad’s desk everything you thought it’d be?”
He chuckles, and his semi-hard cock stirs inside me once again. “It was everything and more, baby.”
* * *
The restof the week continues in a similar fashion, but I keep a closer eye on everything at work after Ben’s words. I haven’t seen or heard from him, and I miss him like crazy. By the time Friday rolls around, I’m receiving sympathetic looks from everyone in the office—bar Dad, of course. He seems totally unaware of my ever-souring mood as the hours pass by.
I’m just about ready to give up hope of seeing Ben tonight until I walk towards my bed. The sight of the Post-It note on my pillow has excitement racing through me. I forget about any frustration I have from not seeing enough of him and pluck it from its resting place.
I’ll pick you up from the end of the street at 7pm. Wear something hot!
Glancing back at the clock,I see it’s already gone six. I’ve got my work cut out for me if I’m going to be ready for a night out.
Rushing to my wardrobe, I thank God for the fact that I washed my favourite dress earlier in the week, and pull it from its hanger. I place my shoes next to it on my bed and rummage through my drawers to find the other set of lingerie I bought for the weekend but never wore.
I have the quickest shower of my life before standing in the mirror, trying to get my hair dry and my make-up applied in record time.
