holding her thighs rigid against his shoulders. She barely registered the sound of a pencil cup falling over to send the pens skittering across the floor. She was still coming down when he let go of her legs, moved back and stood. She watched him rip open the condom and roll it on. His penis looked huge and she couldn’t wait to feel it inside her.
“You look so damn sexy,” he said, stepping between her legs and levering his cock down.
Eyes on hers, he rubbed the tip in her crease, slicking it up before inching inside.
“Ah, fuuuuck.” He put one palm on the desk then the other as he pushed in farther, then pulled back, then went farther still until he was fully sheathed. She rose up and cupped his face in her hands and kissed him. His arm snaked around to support her as he thrust.
“That feels so fucking good,” he said, dragging his lips across her cheek to her ear then her neck.
“It does. It does.”
“Beats the hell out of making soup, right?”
She laughed. “Yes, it does. Smart-ass.”
Continuing to move, he said, “Tell me how much you love it.” His laughing eyes challenged her.
“You’re already full of yourself.”
“Am not. I’m just stating a fact.” He stopped thrusting to Becca’s disappointment. “I’ll bet if I polled a hundred people, would you rather have good sex or make soup, they’d all vote for the sex.”
“What if it’s only mediocre sex?”
His eyebrows about left his forehead. “Are you...are you suggesting that what you just experienced—” he started moving again, “— are experiencing, is mediocre?”
She gave him her “bring it” look.
His eyes narrowed. “Challenge accepted.”
He pulled out abruptly and pulled her off the desk. Her butt skidded on the wood, but he was strong. Before she knew it, he’d turned her around, bent her over with one hand between her shoulder blades and shoved himself back inside.
A primitive thrill raced through her at the unexpected manhandling. His hips slammed against her butt so hard, the drawers in the desk rattled. But God, it felt incredible. She rose up on her tiptoes and arched her back.
“Fuck, fuck, you’re so fucking tight.”
Pulling back on her hips to increase the force of his thrusts, he grunted, not letting up, not slowing. Going at her harder, faster. The squared edge of the desk was biting into her upper thighs but she didn’t care. All she cared about was that Calder kept going until she came again.
He told her to stand up and brace herself on the desk with her hands. Still facing away, this put her back at a forty-five-degree angle and allowed him to reach around and fondle her with his blunt fingers. She sent up a brief prayer of thanksgiving that he’d injured his nondominant hand. Even though the sensations assaulted her, she again arched her back and stood on her tiptoes to intensify the thrusts. She came again, this time unable to hold back a cry of fulfillment. This seemed to set him off. He seized her waist with a vise grip and pumped hard. His breath gusted with such force she felt it against her neck, even though he had straightened and she had leaned forward again.
“Fuck,” he gasped, still thrusting.
Becca dropped down so her forearms rested on the desk. She let her heels touch the floor and her head go lax as she tried to catch her breath. Her body still tingled and sparks from her climax still flashed inside her. Releasing her waist, Calder leaned forward and kissed her shoulder, her neck.
“You’re amazing. That was amazing.”
As she turned her head to look at him, she noticed the clock on the wall. Ten, straight up. With a gentle push, she got him to disengage. He sighed and rid himself of the condom while she put her clothes back on.
“Damn it. It totally smells like sex in here,” she said, tucking her shirt in.
“One of my favorite smells,” he said, pulling his briefs and shorts on.
“Is your knee okay?”
He flexed it. “It’s fine.”
She opened the
“You look so damn sexy,” he said, stepping between her legs and levering his cock down.
Eyes on hers, he rubbed the tip in her crease, slicking it up before inching inside.
“Ah, fuuuuck.” He put one palm on the desk then the other as he pushed in farther, then pulled back, then went farther still until he was fully sheathed. She rose up and cupped his face in her hands and kissed him. His arm snaked around to support her as he thrust.
“That feels so fucking good,” he said, dragging his lips across her cheek to her ear then her neck.
“It does. It does.”
“Beats the hell out of making soup, right?”
She laughed. “Yes, it does. Smart-ass.”
Continuing to move, he said, “Tell me how much you love it.” His laughing eyes challenged her.
“You’re already full of yourself.”
“Am not. I’m just stating a fact.” He stopped thrusting to Becca’s disappointment. “I’ll bet if I polled a hundred people, would you rather have good sex or make soup, they’d all vote for the sex.”
“What if it’s only mediocre sex?”
His eyebrows about left his forehead. “Are you...are you suggesting that what you just experienced—” he started moving again, “— are experiencing, is mediocre?”
She gave him her “bring it” look.
His eyes narrowed. “Challenge accepted.”
He pulled out abruptly and pulled her off the desk. Her butt skidded on the wood, but he was strong. Before she knew it, he’d turned her around, bent her over with one hand between her shoulder blades and shoved himself back inside.
A primitive thrill raced through her at the unexpected manhandling. His hips slammed against her butt so hard, the drawers in the desk rattled. But God, it felt incredible. She rose up on her tiptoes and arched her back.
“Fuck, fuck, you’re so fucking tight.”
Pulling back on her hips to increase the force of his thrusts, he grunted, not letting up, not slowing. Going at her harder, faster. The squared edge of the desk was biting into her upper thighs but she didn’t care. All she cared about was that Calder kept going until she came again.
He told her to stand up and brace herself on the desk with her hands. Still facing away, this put her back at a forty-five-degree angle and allowed him to reach around and fondle her with his blunt fingers. She sent up a brief prayer of thanksgiving that he’d injured his nondominant hand. Even though the sensations assaulted her, she again arched her back and stood on her tiptoes to intensify the thrusts. She came again, this time unable to hold back a cry of fulfillment. This seemed to set him off. He seized her waist with a vise grip and pumped hard. His breath gusted with such force she felt it against her neck, even though he had straightened and she had leaned forward again.
“Fuck,” he gasped, still thrusting.
Becca dropped down so her forearms rested on the desk. She let her heels touch the floor and her head go lax as she tried to catch her breath. Her body still tingled and sparks from her climax still flashed inside her. Releasing her waist, Calder leaned forward and kissed her shoulder, her neck.
“You’re amazing. That was amazing.”
As she turned her head to look at him, she noticed the clock on the wall. Ten, straight up. With a gentle push, she got him to disengage. He sighed and rid himself of the condom while she put her clothes back on.
“Damn it. It totally smells like sex in here,” she said, tucking her shirt in.
“One of my favorite smells,” he said, pulling his briefs and shorts on.
“Is your knee okay?”
He flexed it. “It’s fine.”
She opened the
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