He had shown me different sides of his personality within these past three weeks. From angry, to patient, to protective, to playful. Even now, as I sit here, I have no idea what I am doing.
There is no plan I could follow, nothing that could prepare me for what could happen.
My mind has been in shambles and it was only his presence that has driven out all the demons. My decision to sleep with him had been a reckless one, but there was no taking it back. He was so affectionate and playful, all the while maintaining a certain wall of aloofness that I couldn’t quite break through.
I cover his hand with mine, and turn it over, studying the callouses that were evidence of hard physical labour.
Where did he get these from, I wonder.
And what was this thing between us?
Would we part ways once he realizes we had absolutely nothing in common?
Would we still remain friends?
Would this man break through the barriers I have erected around my heart? Because I could sense a crack every now and then, when he would play with his son in the kitchen or plant a kiss on my cheek.
Feeling him tug at my shirt, I feel the T-shirt give way as he plants a kiss on my bare shoulder.
I look over my shoulder to see him listening intently to the person on the other end, and duck when he tries to kiss my shoulder again.
I see his eyes gleam with the challenge and the next few minutes are spent trying to avoid his flirty kisses.
I didn’t even realize when he put the call on speaker because I was suddenly distracted by the sound of the door locking.
My eyes only had time to see him removing his hand from under the desk, where there must have been an automatic locking system, before I was knelt over the desk.
“Wh-“
Steven clasps his hand over my mouth to stop me, as a man’s voice filled the room, citing numbers.
My eyes widen when I feel him loosen the bowstring tying the boxers around my waist, and I felt the dismal piece of cloth fall around my feet.
He was standing now, one hand on the small of my back, holding me down, the other moving lower.
When did he remove his hand from my mouth?
I felt him slide off my panties quickly, and my cheeks heat up.
“Steven, I really don’t-“
My whisper was cut short, when he leans over and murmurs, “Not a word. You don’t want him to hear you, do you?”
I purse my lips shut and scowl at him.
I felt my pussy clench at the strength of his hand as he held me down and felt his right hand move lower to explore my nether regions.
Which were dripping.
My eyes fell on the full-length mirror across from us, a few inches from the door, next to a chair with a shirt thrown over it.
I could see myself sprawled on the desk, one hand holding on to the front edge for dear life and the other on my mouth to stop any sounds from escaping as Steven moved his fingers inside my wet pussy with slow deliberation, his eyes fixed on mine, a smirk on his face.
“…the Calfex report. But if the numbers are correct, there will be a flux of sales…”
The man was still talking, and I let out a muffled moan as Steven’s fingers move inside me, in a slow rhythmic movement.
“What about the one in the New York? I thought I told you to have the report on my desk yesterday morning?”