Page 8 of Knocked Up by My Fake Fiancé
My balls are so tight right now, my cock steely and veined, with precum at the top.
I lean over and lick off the tear, savoring the bite of saltiness in my mouth. I explore her walls around her entrance, finding the bundle of nerves up there. Stroking a finger over it makes her entire body quake violently. She grips my shoulder, her mouth open, pained surrender all over her face. But she refuses to say it. She's too damn stubborn.
I want to break her, take her to the edge, and fling her off just to see what she looks like when she falls apart.
But it's taking everything inside me to wait.
"Say it, damn it."
"I'm sorry, you asshole!"
I smirk and take my hand away.
Then, I undo my belt with quick, harried movements, pull out my cock, spread her thighs as far apart as they will go, and drive it into her, hard.
Punishment or reward, I can't tell. She screams like it's both and throws her arms around my neck, holding tight. Her flesh clenches around my cock, and I groan again, biting her shoulder as she contracts and vibrates around me.
She's coming. I can feel her coming around me, and it draws a rough hiss out of me.
It's heaven and hell.
Her orgasm seems never-ending, and I start fucking her through it, clenching her ass and lifting her off the desk so I can do it more thoroughly. It's not going to take long for me. She feels too fucking good. I can already feel the pressure at the base of my spine, my cock full and thumping with its own separate heartbeat.
But I want to see her come again before I do.
Her little mewls of pleasure tell me she's close. As I fuck her, she holds on, sweat slicking her neck.
I lick it savagely, savoring the pulse at her throat. I grab her hair, tugging it back to expose the line of her neck, and nip the juncture of her shoulder.
She comes again, and this time she drags me with her. My cock pulses and explodes inside her, and I hold her tight as I shudder at how mind-blowingly good that was.
I've had dirty sex before, but nothing like this.
And then… silence.
As we both descend from the heights, the silence becomes even more deafening, and the gravity of what we just did comes with the post orgasm clarity. Fuck. Regret lines my spine as I back away and tuck myself back into my pants without glancing at her.
I hear her doing the same.
The atmosphere is so painfully awkward that every little sound in the silence is magnified. She hops off the desk, andI look over in time to see my sperm trailing down her thighs before she wipes them off with her panties.
As a fresh wave of desire awakens within me, I also realize something dire.
I just fucked her without a condom. Shit. Unprotected sex. I should know better than that.
"I assume you have protection." My voice sounds cold, mostly because I'm mad at myself for making such a rookie mistake. I've been so careful all my life, despite the many attempts to baby-trap me. I could have just fucking done it to myself, all because I wasn't fucking thinking.
She glares at me. "I'm not on the pill if that's what you're asking. But I can grab a Plan B on the way out, and if that doesn't work, I'll take care of it."
"Good. I'll reimburse you."
"Keep your money, asshole." She looks just as angry with herself as I am with myself, and that gives me a sick savage pleasure. I'm glad we're in the same boat. Neither of us wanted this to happen, but it happened anyway.
It can never happen again.
"Just to be clear, you're off the showcase."
"Yes, Mr. Grayson Wolfe. But you're not firing me. I've already dropped you as my client. That's what I came to tell you."
