Page 68 of Deal Breaker
She whispers, “Close the blinds.”
I do, and when I turn back, I see she’s standing now, pressed against the edge of my desk, her eyes dark.
I step into her space again and cup the side of her face. My thumb grazes her bottom lip, and she leans into the touch like she’s already halfway gone. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” I murmur. “Not since the second I dropped you back off at the cottage.”
She grabs my shirt and that’s all I need. I kiss her—deep and sure, eliminating any space between us. She gasps against my mouth, and I swallow the sound as my hands slide down her back, anchoring her to me.
Her fingers fist in my shirt, pulling me closer, grinding against me as I press her back into the desk. I’m worked up—more turned on than I’ve ever been in my life. There’s a wildfire burning just beneath my skin, searing through every inch of me. My palms are burning. My cheeks feel flushed. And my cock? So hard it’s practically aching, demanding something, anything, to ease the pressure.
I reach into the front of my pants, adjusting my cock, and yeah, I can feel it. I’m already wet at the tip, proof of just how far gone I am. A shudder of arousal rips through me. Not small, not subtle. It’s a full body, bone-deep shiver that grabs me by the shoulders and rattles me hard. I don’t fight it because I wouldn’t know how.
“You do something to me,” I breathe against her lips. “Every damn time.”
Her mouth finds mine again—hotter now, more desperate—and when I lift her onto the edge of the desk, she wraps her legs around my waist like she remembers exactly how good we are like this. My hand slips beneath her blouse, tracing the soft skin at her waist, then the edge of her bra. She moans into my mouth, hips rolling forward, and I nearly lose my mind.
“You want me to stop?” I whisper against her neck.
“No,” she breathes. “God, no.”
I tug her blouse up, exposing her bra, the swell of her chest flushed and rising fast with every breath. “I’m not going to fuck you on my desk,” I murmur, dragging my mouth down her throat.“The first time I fuck you will be in my bed where I can take my time with you. But I want you to remember this every time you walk in here.”
She lets out a shaky, wrecked laugh. “Mission accomplished.”
I slide my hand under her skirt between her thighs and feel how soaked she is for me.
“Damn, June.”
She gasps as my fingers slide her underwear to the side, insert one, then two fingers, fuck her just right. Her head tips back, hands clinging to my shoulders as I work her slowly, methodically, just enough to make her tremble. Just enough to make her fall apart.
Right here.
Right now.
Mine.
She’s panting against my mouth now, her hands fisted in my shirt, her body tense and trembling under my touch. I’m coming apart at the seams. My balls are drawn up tight, and the head of my cock is pressed uncomfortably against my zipper. It’s overload and not nearly enough all at once. The wrong kind of friction. The wrong kind of relief.
My fingers keep moving—quick, relentless strokes that I drag over every aching nerve, pushing deeper, curling just right, until she’s trembling and gasping my name like it’s the only word she knows. I feel it when she starts to lose it.
“Come on, Lan,” I whisper against her throat. “Let go for me.”
Her hips jerk forward, her breath catches, and then she’s gasping my name like it’s the only thing holding her together. She comes in my arms, quiet and desperate, her body arching off the desk. I keep my hand there, holding her through it, watching every second of her unraveling and fuck, she’s beautiful like this.
Every part of me turns molten with lust as I watch her fall over the edge. Her head is arched back, her legs widened. Her eyes are closed, and she’s riding my fingers.
I come without warning—without even realizing it’s possible to come like this. From this. In my fucking pants. The pleasure is sharp, brutal, blinding—like a lightning strike that fractures me in half and leaves nothing but sensation behind.
It tears through me, raw and unstoppable, flooding out in hot, pulsing waves that short-circuit everything else. My mind blanks, my body jerks, and I’m lost to it.
By the time Landyn comes down from her own high, I’m still trying to remember how to breathe. She slumps forward, forehead resting on my shoulder, her breathing still uneven.
She pulls back just enough to look at me, cheeks flushed, pupils still blown wide and yeah, there’s something behind her eyes. Not regret, not quite. But something heavy. I smooth a hand over her hair. “You okay?”
She nods. “Yeah. Just…I didn’t expect that…here.”
“Me neither,” I say. “But I’m not sorry.”
She smiles, a little nervous, maybe, but genuine, and straightens her clothes. I help her down from the desk, keeping one hand on her hip until she’s steady. She walks to the door, then pauses with her hand on the knob.
