Page 144 of Double Standards
He grins against my thigh, nipping and kissing his way upward, tongue tracing fire across my skin. “Then be quiet, baby.”
He hooks his hands behind my knees, pulling me closer to the edge of the desk, and I can’t help the way my breath hitches. He knows me too well—knows that silence is impossible when he touches me like this. He always brings out a version of me that’s louder, needier, utterly unrestrained.
I look down just as he licks his lips, and the sight alone sends heat coiling low in my belly. There’s something unspeakably hot about Axel on his knees, eyes dark, ravenous—worshipping me like I’m the only thing he’s ever wanted.
When his mouth finally meets me, my head tips back. His tongue licks a slow, deliberate stripe, and my fingers tangle in his hair before I can stop myself. A moan catches in my throat the moment two fingers slide inside me. I grip the edge of the desk like it’s the only thing keeping me grounded, hips arching helplessly toward him.
“Axel,” I gasp, the sound of his name barely escaping my lips as he circles my clit with that wicked tongue. There’s no way I’ll stay quiet. None.
He chuckles, low and smug, and the vibration against my swollen flesh makes me whimper. He devours me with long, languid strokes, spreading my arousal with every glide of his tongue, every thrust of his fingers. The sounds—his soft growls, the slick, messy pleasure of it—drive me wild.
I grind against him, chasing the tension that’s building fast and sharp. My body tightens, the promise of release coiling in my belly, and when I feel myself getting close, I slap a hand over my mouth, desperate to muffle the moan climbing up my throat.
Axel throws one of my legs over his shoulder, lifting mehigher, deeper into his mouth. His tongue flicks and teases my clit with ruthless precision, sucking until I writhe and beg silently, my hips twitching with each pass of his mouth. I mouth the wordmore—and he gives it to me.
His fingers curl just right. His mouth seals over me. And then I fall.
The orgasm crashes through me like a wave, leaving me shaking and gasping, my cries muffled by my own palm. Axel doesn’t stop—he draws it out, licking me through every aftershock, like he can’t get enough.
When he finally pulls away, I’m sprawled across the desk, panting, flushed, wrecked. Lust dilates his pupils as he stands, undoing his belt with a dark smirk.
He leans in and kisses me, hard and deep, letting me taste myself on his tongue. His hands grip my hair as he devours my mouth, and I feel the thick head of his cock graze my still-throbbing core.
Our chests press together, breathing in sync, and against his lips, I murmur, “I want all of you.”
He doesn’t hesitate. With one smooth thrust, he’s inside me—filling me so perfectly it knocks the breath from my lungs.
“Fuck, I’ve missed being inside you.”
His movements are slow at first, purposeful. Every stroke dulls the rest of the world, until all I can feel is him—deep and hot and overwhelming. I lock my ankles behind him, drawing him impossibly close. His body is solid under my hands, his lips never leaving mine as he rocks us steadily on the desk.
Then he picks up the pace.
Deeper. Harder.
His mouth trails to my jaw, down my neck, planting bruising kisses that mark me in ways I don’t mind. I moan into his shoulder, trying to quiet the sounds pouring from me, but it only pushes him further.
“You’ll be the death of me,” he murmurs, echoing words he said before—but this time, they hit differently. Real. Heavy. True.
He slows just enough to say, “I’ve realized how much I care for you. How far I’d go to protect you. This… right here. I need you to know how deep it goes.”
My heart clenches. I cup his face, hold his gaze, and the truth tumbles from my lips before I can think twice.
“I love you.”
And just like that, it changes. We’re not just fucking anymore. This isn’t about lust or escape. It’s everything.
He doesn’t say it back. He doesn’t have to. The look in his eyes—the softness there, the wonder—tells me everything. This is the real Axel. Raw. Beautiful. Mine.
He smiles, then spins me around, pressing me flat against the desk. I barely catch my breath before he’s inside me again—deeper now, rougher, driving into me with reckless abandon. My stomach digs into the desk, but all I feel is him. The stretch. The fullness. The unbearable pleasure.
He fists my hair, lifting my head, and drops the sweetest kiss to my cheek—a stark, jarring contrast to the way he’s fucking me. It’s intimate chaos, a blur of pain and pleasure that sets my body alight.
“Axel,” I whimper.
“Yes, baby?”
“More.”
