The Stranger Behind My Orgasm

Finnegan

Had she been crying?

My assistant’s eyes were glassy at the edges; her lashes were slightly darker and wet. Her cheeks were red and flushed, even under the dim light; I could notice it.

I had spent enough time cataloguing Abigail Kellerman’s face to notice every single tiny change on her face, especially with how close she was right now.

Huffs of warm breath escaped from her slightly parted pink lips, hitting against my chest. She was tipped back against the desk with her free hand pressed flat against my shirt, and every inch of her body making contact with every inch of mine. She blinked up at me.

Those cornflower blue eyes were enormous and glassy. Her jasmine scent filled my nose, setting my body on fire.

I was going to hell.

"I found proof on—" Her breath hitched when my thumb brushed her soft lower lip. Her lips parted further, and I pressed in until she took it into her mouth.

Something feral tore loose in my chest. Her hot tongue moved against my thumb, her eyes were clouded with desire, as her mouth made little sucking noises that travelled straight to my painfully hard dick. Her lashes fluttered.

Her lips sealed around my thumb, and she sucked, working her tongue in a slow circle. There was a flush spreading from her cheeks down her throat. Her shoulders rolled in that tight top that clung to her body like a second skin, the deep neckline giving me a good view of her full, plump tits.

This was wrong. I had better control than this, dammit. But I knew what she tasted like, and fuck me, I wanted more. I needed more. She bobbed her head slightly, curling my shirt in her fingers, and my cock strained against my pants, ready to fucking explode.

I pulled my thumb free and watched her lips chase it for half a second before she caught herself, and something about that small involuntary movement made the last functioning rational part of my brain pack its things and leave the premises.

I swept my arm across her desk.

Papers, her tablet, a ridiculous pen holder in the shape of a woman’s torso, swept to the side.

She gasped when I caught her by the waist and lifted her onto the desk. Her skirt rode up as I stepped between her knees, her hands flying to my shoulders.

"We really shouldn’t do this," She whispered.

"And why," I swiped my tongue over her parted lips, tasting her. "Why is that?"

I could think of a hundred reasons why we shouldn’t, but there was one very, maddeningly insistent reason, a desire that burned in my veins all because of her.

She made a sound against my lips that travelled straight down to my spine. Her fingers twisted into my shirt, pulled me closer, and that was the end of any remaining argument I might have thought up.

I kissed her the way I had wanted to since the storage room. This was fucking overdue. The blazing desire only blazed hotter, and I was done running, dammit.

Her mouth was soft and yielding and then suddenly not yielding at all, kissing me back hungrily, her entire body burning and shaking against me. She gave a low throaty moan, throwing her head back when my hands moved up her thighs, pushing the skirt higher.

Her skin was warm under my fingers, her legs shifting apart around me. She shuddered when my hands reached the lace edge of her underwear, and her forehead dropped to my shoulder.

"Finnegan, oh please, please don’t stop this time," she whimpered, rearing back to bat those long, pretty lashes up at me, begging me with her eyes.

I couldn’t stop if I wanted to, and I did not want to.

Holding her gaze, I dropped to my knees. Her eyes followed mine as my head lowered between her parted thighs.

I pressed my mouth to the inside of her knee and felt her thigh tremble under my hands. Dragging my lips upward, slowly, I tasted her satiny, smooth skin, the scent of her pussy intensifying the higher I went.

I curled her panties with two fingers and pulled them aside.

My cock lurched at the sight before me. She was soaking. Her pussy was pink, slick, swollen, and absolutely drenched.

She smelled of jasmine and something sweeter, muskier, and like a moth to flame, I buried my face in her cunt, her slick juices coating my nose.

I pressed my mouth to her, and her hips shot up, bucking in the air. The sound she made echoed off every wall in the empty floor.

A growl filled my chest as I ate her cunt out. Her hips rolled forward every time my tongue stabbed her clit.

When I thrust my tongue deep into her sweet cunt, she screamed and slammed her palms down on the desk.

"Finn!"

My tongue moved in long flat strokes over her glistening cunt, lapping up every pearl of her juices that slipped between her puffy pussy lips. She tasted divine, delicious...familiar.

"More," she breathed, latching her hand to my hair. "Harder, I can take it- "

I thrust two fingers into her cunt. Her back bowed completely off the desk.

The heat of her cunt around my fingers was scorching, sopping wet walls gripping me immediately in tight, delicious pulses.

I curled them forward, stroking my fingers against the roof of her cunt, and she gave a long, hoarse cry, while my mouth stayed on her clit.

"Oh god... oh god!"

Her thighs locked around my head. Her fingers yanked my hair. I felt her cunt clench and flutter and then seize around my fingers and mouth.

Then her body tensed up, shuddering as she came. I lapped up every drop of hot liquid that gushed out of her twitching cunt, reaching over the painful tent in my pants and squeezing it.

She went limp against the desk, chest heaving, one hand still loosely tangled in my hair. I rose then, my mouth glistening with her juices.

My fingers slipped free, and I pressed them to her mouth, loving the light choking sounds she made when I fucked her mouth with my fingers, making her take every single drop.

I pulled her by the hips to the very edge of the desk and quickly got rid of my belt, along with my pants to the floor, taking her in.

That delectable ass hung off her desk while I towered over her, and my cock sprang free. I pushed her thighs farther back to her chest, watching her knees press against her tits in her blouse. Her pussy was cradled between those thighs, glistening while a warning rang in my head.

If I crossed this line, there was no going back.