His thumb moved tantalisingly over me, the look on his face utterly compelling. ‘Beg me to fuck you, Poppy. Beg me for it.’
And I saw at last what lay underneath his fury: desperation.
He needed this as badly as I did.
All the remaining breath left my lungs as the things he’d been saying all this time finally hit.
‘I’ve wanted you for years...’
He wanted me. He wanted me.
I didn’t know why it made any kind of difference, but it did. Maybe it was understanding that even if I begged him I’d still have some power because he wanted this so badly. That in this moment I had the ability to give us both what we needed.
Perhaps knowing that made the words slip out so easily, and they did. Like I’d been waiting for years to say them.
‘Yes,’ I forced out, my hips tilting uncontrollably against his hand as his finger twisted inside me. ‘Please, Xander. Please...’
‘Please what?’
‘Please...f-fuck me. I need you.’
Instantly he moved, taking his fingers from between my thighs and pulling me off the desk. I had no time to protest or even speak as he flipped me around and bent me back over it, his hand on my nape, pushing me down.
I gasped as he jerked up my skirt and then I heard the sound of his belt buckle being undone, his zip going down. There came the crinkle of foil, a second of his harsh and ragged breathing, and then he was gathering my hands and crossing my wrists behind me, pinning them in the small of my back.
I was shaking, an all-over tremble I couldn’t stop. The way he held me, locking my wrists so I couldn’t move, made me feel so totally in his power that my pussy throbbed and my nipples got painfully hard.
Perhaps I should have been panicking at being completely helpless before him. But I wasn’t. In fact, it was the opposite.
I was shaking, but deep inside a part of me relaxed. As if it knew everything would be okay because I was with him. And I didn’t question it, I didn’t fight it. Because finally—finally—I was getting something that I wanted.
Him.
His free hand brushed over my exquisitely sensitive sex, spreading me, holding me open. And then came the push of his cock.
I groaned, shutting my eyes as I felt my pussy stretch around him, shivering at the feel of him as he thrust in hard. He was big, hot and I found myself straining against his hands, wanting to move.
‘Keep still.’ He held me tighter. ‘And don’t make another sound. We’re in my office, remember?’
Oh, God, that was right. And the door wasn’t locked.
Weirdly though, that only made what he was doing to me a thousand times more erotic and I had to bite my lip to stop from crying out as he slid out then thrust back in, hard, deep.
Another long, slick slide, pulling out then driving in, harder, deeper.
I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, tasting blood in my mouth as I fought to keep the sounds of raw pleasure inside me.
It was so good. So unbelievably good. No, better than good. It was a fantasy made real. Relief in its purest form. To finally have him the way I’d always wanted. To be held helplessly in his hands, to be in his power.
God knew I didn’t deserve it, but then who was I to fight him?
It was so good I couldn’t stand it.
He fucked me harder, deeper, slamming me against the edge of the desk, my cheek pressed to the wood, our ragged breathing and his harsh grunts the only sound in the room.
Normally I couldn’t come from this alone, but apparently his cock had always been the missing ingredient because my orgasm hit, suddenly and out of the blue, so intense I could feel tears prick behind my closed lids and a scream press against my throat.
And somehow he knew because that was when his free hand came out and covered my mouth. ‘Scream into that,’ he murmured.
And I did as lights burst behind my eyes and the whole world caved in.
Xander
I COULD FEEL her perfect little pussy clenching hard around my dick and knew I was done for.
Hell, I’d been done for the moment she’d grabbed my tie without asking and kissed me.
Her scream vibrated against my palm, her body convulsing under mine and I let myself go, gripping tight to her slender wrists as I slammed myself deep inside her, driving her against the desk, pleasure cutting me open like a knife and letting all my deepest, darkest desires come spilling out.
Her looking at me with desperation as her wetness had covered my fingers. Her soft hair in my hand as I’d pulled her head back. Her begging me to fuck her. Her screaming into my palm as I held her hands behind her back, driving us both into oblivion.
I could feel it begin, the detonation inside me, a grenade going off in my head. She was bent over my desk and I was deep inside her, making her scream, giving her pleasure.
The way I’d always fantasised about.
Mine.
Yes, and she was. Right now, she was no one’s but mine.
Keeping hold of her wrists with one hand, I slammed the other down on the desk beside her head and used it for leverage to shove myself inside her one last time, the orgasm tearing her name from my throat as it hit, so intense it nearly blinded me.
I couldn’t move for long moments afterwards, resting bent over her, with my face in the soft cloud of her hair, letting the sweet, subtle scent of it wash over me as I tried to pull myself the hell together.
And, as I did so, the implications of what I’d done began to seep through me, slow and full of foreboding, like rumours of uncertainty through a booming stock market.
She’s your stepsister. Who you promised to take care of. Whose father died because of what you did and who you’ve just fucked hard across your desk, holding her hands behind her back after getting her to beg for your cock. In your own goddamn office.
The warmth of the orgasm began to dissipate, leaving me suddenly cold.
Jesus. What the fuck had I done?
All I’d wanted was to point out to her that kissing me had been a really bad idea. But then I’d found her drawing, which had incensed me for some reason, and I’d whipped that book out of her hands and ordered her into my office before I could stop myself.
And then, once she was there...
I’d
