eyes, matching the intensity. Matching his want. But I didn’t answer his question. We simply faced one another, staring. Waiting for one of us to make the move, to cross the line.
He stepped a few inches closer, then leaned toward me, tangling his hands in my hair and tipping my face up so he could kiss me.
There was nothing slow or tender about it, it was only raw hunger and need. One hand slipped down my back, pulling me up against him. I slid forward, letting my knees spread, allowing him to step between my legs.
It was as if he needed to me to feel how hard he was, already. As if he wanted to prove he’d been thinking of this in every moment we’d been together.
He teased my tongue with his own, deepening the kiss. He stepped up against the desk, forcing me to lay backward. He pulled my knees upward, closer to his waist, so that he could press into me, so I could feel the hard length of him.
He yanked my shirt up over my head and I fell back, his desk hard and cold against my back. My hair spread out around me, like a fan, and he reached over, shoving a wire basket, filled with paperwork, off the desk. It crashed to the floor, jarring me.
I started to sit up—worried that someone may have heard it, and he pushed me roughly back down. “I locked it,” he said, leaning down, devouring my mouth with his. And then I forget what it was I’d been thinking, consumed by his kiss.
One of his hands slid down my side, and up around my back, unclasping my bra with one smooth movement. The air was cold across my skin, contrasting with the heat where our bodies touched. I arched into him as his lips encircled my now-bare nipple.
His tongue swirled around it, and I rolled my hips against him, causing him to suck in a breath between his teeth.
I thought of this constantly since we were last together, and now I wanted it, wanted him to quit the teasing and take me, right here on his desk, in the middle of his massive office.
Instead he was slow and methodical, his breathing growing heavy as he kissed one breast, and then the other, his breath hot against my skin.
“Landon,” I murmured, burying my fingers in his hair, twisting the strands in my fingers as I pushed against him. My skirt rode up until it was scrunched up around my waist and my panties grew damp against his pants. “That feels so good,” I said, my free hand running down his back, finding the hem of his shirt so I could yank it over his head.
And then our upper bodies were bare, pressed into one another as he leaned over me, while I lay on his desk, my legs spread apart.
My fingers raked up his back, scratching him hard enough I was sure I’d leave marks. I arched closer, my hips rolling in an almost frantic rhythm, craving more friction.
Landon’s tongue circled my nipple one more time, before he stood again. His eyes were dark and stormy, as his gaze raked over me, as if he wanted to remember how I looked draped across his desk, my skirt up around my waist, my breasts bare and bouncing as I swiveled my hips.
“Jesus you’re beautiful,” he said.
Without sitting up, I reached down for the button on his pants. He watched as I unzipped them, as I shoved them down his legs, allowing his hard cock to spring free. His eyes turned dark with lust. He pushed up on my knees, sliding me back so that my ass was perched at the edge of his desk.
Then he was teasing me, allowing the long length of his cock to slide up and down along my slit. Preparing me, making me wet all over.
He paused, his hips swinging back as he took himself in his hand, positioning himself at my core.
With his other arm, he wrapped it around my knees, so that the back of my thighs pressed against his abs. And then he plunged into me, with one hard, swift thrust.
I bit back a moan, my hands gripping each side of his desk. My breasts bounced as he fucked me, harder and harder, so quickly I was surprised his desk didn’t screech across the floor.
My head tipped back, heat building in my lower belly, pulsing through my body. I turned to the side, his