Page 47 of Web of Lies
I slide my fingers from her neck to her skull, winding her beautiful copper hair through them, and pull her head back, forcing her upper body to arch. "Look at the goddamn office," I say, gasping for air. "Look at where I'm fucking you." I tighten my grip, drawing a painful moan from her. "Every time you walk into this room, you'll picture me bending you over this desk and filling you up." She arches her neck in pain. "Your pussy will ache to be stuffed, and if you ever let him fuck you, you'll only think of me." Her eyes roll back, and her lashes flutter shut as deep moans spill from her throat.
I slip my hand from her hip down her thigh. Snaking my fingers around her knee, I tug it up and maneuver her into a kneeling position with one leg propped on the desk. A wince escapes her at the sudden change in position, but I don't care. Her pussy is going to leak all over this desk, and I'll make sure of it.
I slip my arm around her and dip my hand between her thighs. My fingers find her clit and roll it. Her head rolls forward, against my hold on her hair, broken moans slipping from her throat. She jolts, her thighs trembling, her breath breaking into ragged gasps. "Kyle—" she chokes out, but I don't let up. My cock drives into her again and again.
"Let it go. Make a fucking mess for me, Baby." Her moans turn into pitiful whimpers, sobs tearing from her throat as her pussy clenches around me, and she reaches yet another orgasm. A strangled cry tears from her throat as a hot rush bursts out of her, spraying across my hand, dripping down onto the desk.
"Fuck yes," I growl, slamming into her, driving the liquid out of her as she remains trapped in place. The sound of it dripping onto the desk mixes with her cries and my hips slamming intoher ass. She tries to twist away, but I've got her, one hand still on her head, the other flicking her clit until she is completely empty.
With every thrust, the pressure in my cock grows, as I hit as deep as her body will allow. Ultimately, my hips stutter, and I lose the violent rhythm. With one final, deep stroke, I bury myself inside her, my cock pulsing as I release myself into her. Her hips buck against mine, her muscles gripping my cock.
Eventually, I slip out of her and hold her in place, watching her pulsating hole. Then, the moment I've been waiting for. After a soft squirt, thick spurts of my cum pour out of her, trickling down her folds and dripping onto the desk below. My lips stretch into a grin. "Good girl," I say, emphasizing the "r" as I’m mesmerized by the view and unable to tear my eyes away when another drop spills out.
We’re interrupted by the sudden mechanical ping of the laptop echoing through the air. Both of our gazes snap toward the screen, which reads: "Transfer successful."Riley turns to throw me a glance over her shoulder, her lips slightly parted as she gasps for air.
"Let's get out of here," she says, pulling away from me. She straightens her skirt, pulls down her top, unplugs the hard drive, shuts down the laptop, and carefully places it back where we found it.
She reaches for the box of tissues, but my hand snaps over hers, stopping her.
"Not so fast,I lean in, my voice dropping to a low murmur.
“Kyle—” Her eyes widen, panic flickering across her face.
“No." I squeeze her wrist.
Chapter 22
Riley
Frustration bubbles up in my chest as I stare at the screen in front of me. The data on Mr. Hunt's laptop is more secure than I had expected. The program I'm using to decrypt the data has crashed multiple times in the past two days. I've had to adjust several commands and add extra tools, but I'm finally making progress and, most importantly, seeing success. Although gaining access to Hunt's bank statements—both private and company-related—I personally wouldn't call it a success. I knew he was filthy rich. Assuming otherwise would be foolish. But outside of codes and calculations, I've never seen as many connected numbers in one place.
Whoever created his security measures clearly wanted to make accessing the data difficult, requiring multiple attempts to load everything step by step. It makes sense because if someone were attempting a simple hack, it would be too risky and time-consuming. They might try again after one failed attempt, but no one takes a third shot because the odds of being caught are too high.
When my phone pings with a familiar sound, I pick it up and read the notification reminding me of my lunch break. I steal another glance at my laptop. About five percent of the way through, the search term jumped to "Butcher," the loading bar slowly creeping forward. It's only a matter of time. Maybe a few minutes, maybe a few hours.
My stomach growls at the thought of a meal, and I sigh in defeat. A short break won't be an issue, and the best-case scenario is that I come back and have the answers I'm looking for.
I push my chair back, rise to my feet, and grab my wallet and keys before stepping out of my office and locking the door behind me. Then, I head toward the elevator at the end of the hallway. No one usually enters my office when I'm out, but I don't want to take the risk. Doing this in the office is already pushing my luck, but I didn't want to drag Kyle any further into this than he already is. I know he wants to help, but it's best this way.
I tap the elevator buttons and stare at the numbers on the screen as they tick down until it stops on my floor. When it pings, I perk up as the doors slide open in front of me.
It isn't empty; instead, I'm greeted by a familiar face who has been visiting the office regularly for a handful of weeks. The black-haired woman who has occasionally come to see Hunt. Upon seeing me, she perks up. Her blue eyes twinkle with excitement, and her lips stretch into a bright, welcoming smile.
"Hey," she says, holding up her hand and waving me in.
"Hi." I offer her a weak smile as I step into the elevator and check the buttons. The one for the ground floor is already lit up.
"It must be destiny that I ran into you," she says, taking a step closer as the doors slide shut. "I'm Chloé. Nice to meet you."
"Riley," I smile and nod. "The pleasure is all mine."
"You know Michael pretty well, don't you?"
"Kind of." I furrow my brows at the rare mention of Mr. Hunt's first name and turn to face her. "Why?"
"He keeps turning me down." She purses her lips into a pout and crosses her arms in front of her chest. "Am I really not his type?" she asks.
I allow my gaze to wander over her, taking in the way the short black summer dress hugs her curves and stops just below her round butt. The thin straps show off her smooth shoulders, and the fabric clings to her curves in all the right places, drawing attention to her breasts and slim waist. Although this outfit may be inappropriate for business meetings, it's perfect if her sole goal is to sleep with Mr. Hunt. It's daring, seductive, and clearly meant to turn heads. Honestly, I'm surprised he's not going for her. She's young, beautiful, and clearly knows how to present herself. If I weren't with Kyle, I'd be tempted even if it were just a one-night stand.
