AM Hartnett - The Deep End

‘I noticed,’ she went on, her gaze falling to the bulge between his legs.

He’d been hard in the cab they’d shared the night before. He was a big boy. It had been hard to let him go and head home alone, but she’d had her fill of drunken fucks when she was in university.

And she hadn’t been kidding. Her free time was scarce, and in the last couple of years her social life had consisted of those who caught her eye as she passed through the office. Her longest dry spell had been four months, and she didn’t care to repeat it. The more intensive her job became, the more she needed to burn off that stress with something more than a vibrator.

Now that he was back before her, his erection prominent as he peeled away his jacket, she was glad she had waited. That seething male animal bristled beneath the surface as he went to work on his belt. He shoved his pants down and a glorious cock sprang up.

He was groomed and cut and utterly mouthwatering. The urge to take him into her mouth nearly derailed her, but the need to have his cock pumping against her G spot overruled all other urges.

She sank back into the sofa, drew her legs closer to her ass and circled her finger around her clit.

‘You think I can take it all?’ she asked, her voice coming thick from the back of her throat.

There: she saw it happen, that savage creature unleashed. Grace had gambled on her man from Breton-Craig, and, as he knelt between her legs with that gorgeous shaft bobbing over her pussy, she felt victorious.

He tore the condom wrapper with his teeth and quickly snapped the rubber down his length.

‘I think you can take it all, if I give it to you.’

He leaned over her and shoved the cups of her bra down, an action that pushed her breasts up for the taking, and tugged her nipples between thumb and forefinger. The sting was magnificent. Grace pushed up, but he put her back down.

She moaned as he sawed the length back and forth along her slick pussy. She once more grasped the cushions on either side of her head and rose up. ‘Don’t be a tease. Give it every fucking inch.’

A low grumble poured out of him. He grasped the edge of the sofa back with one hand and positioned the tip of his dick at the hot throbbing mouth that waited for him.

For just a moment as he slipped in and out, Grace worried that at the moment of truth he would prove clumsy and she’d have to take the reins, but he quickly found his mark and shoved balls-deep.

He worked his cock in and out with shallow thrusts. She didn’t know whether he was merely being careful with her or if he wanted her to keep urging him on, but Grace went with the latter.

Even if they’d had all the time in the world, she would have wanted it hard and fast, and so she bucked up and bared her teeth at him.

‘Fuck me into this sofa,’ she hissed, then cooed as he withdrew until only the head remained. He was red-faced and demonic as he looked down on her.

‘You are hungry for a cock, aren’t you?’

She released the cushions and slapped her hands on his waist. ‘We don’t have a lot of time. Just fuck me already.’

He winced as she dug her nails into him, but didn’t pick up his stride. His grin was strained, but the body he held her captive with was in perfect control. ‘Nice and slow for a minute. Let me hit the spot a little.’

A delirious smile broke across her mouth as he pushed forward and that magnificent friction against her G spot sent a tingle through her that ran along her spine in a shiver. He went deep again and she almost drew blood as once more he pulled out slowly.

‘I could stay another night,’ he was saying, somewhere far off from where her head was floating and her body was sinking into pleasure. ‘Spread you open and keep you wet like this all night long.’

She didn’t want to hear it. Not now. She only wanted this , the echo of their heaving breathing in the empty office and the thrill of knowing her boss could break routine and return early. She didn’t want to hear about the past or the future. With men like her Breton-Craig man there was only the hard cock and wet pussy to bridge the gap between the lover she had between her thighs and the next one she took when she needed the release of a hard body joined with hers.

The sting of his balls slapping against her ass jolted her, and she could see and feel the effect it had on him. The masterful facade he had been trying to maintain cracked.

She dropped one hand between them and flicked her middle finger against her clit. ‘Watch me while you fuck me.’

‘Oh, fuck, yes,’ he said in a croak. He pulled out all the way and draped her legs on his shoulders, then fumbled to get back in where it was warm and wet.

Grace grinned and smeared moisture across the hairless plane just so he could see how wet she was. She loved appearances: breasts out, pussy spread open and so wet things were bound to get messy.

He gripped her, arms wrapped around her legs at the knee, and began to pump her. The tingle as he passed over the sweet spot grew to a perfect current, coupled beautifully with the throbbing beneath her fingers. Held in place by his clutch and the pressure of his weight, Grace was precisely where she wanted to be: trapped by the dual friction rubbing in the places where she was most sensitive.

He picked up the pace, jutting his hips and filling her harder every time. He pressed his lips together and made a desperate humming sound as his gaze moved over her. She rubbed her clit faster to match his thrusts.

‘Do you do this all the time? Fuck strange men half-dressed in your boss’s office?’

‘You’ve got to admit, it’s dirtier when you know you’ll never see me again.’

She pushed up onto one elbow and looked down to where their bodies met. She could only catch a milky blur of his sheathed cock as he pumped her, but the sheen of her juices on his inner thighs told the story of how primed she was.

He reached down and cradled her ass, fingers digging in as his gaze followed hers. ‘You ought to see the view I have from here.’

In her last wicked act against him, Grace watched his face as she spread her fingers and showed him how wet and swollen she was.

His grip on her turned vice-like, and, as she resumed with two fingers on her throbbing bud, the man from Breton-Craig slammed against her.

As gorgeous as his dick was, it was her own fingers on either side of her sex that took her all the way. Grace hung her head back and squeezed her eyes shut. Her breath caught in a hiccup at the back of her throat and she rode that sensation of her pussy being stuffed as her clit pulsed.

‘I’m coming,’ she hissed and opened her eyes to his flushed and leering face. ‘Just hold off a few more … oh, fuck … just a little more …’

She bucked up as it hit her, riding fast through her explosive climax. He went deep one last time and her finger stilled over her clit as her sex squeezed around his length. This sensation of being utterly soaked with pleasure as his cock twitched inside held her suspended, heedless of the warning pangs from the muscles in her thighs and stomach that she had been contorted, nearly bent in half, in her lover’s climax.

With the ringing in her ears subsiding, Grace came back to life and shook herself until he released her and sagged back at his end of the sofa. One need sated, she was parched with the next immediate need and hobbled to her feet. From Caroway’s mini-fridge she pulled out a bottle of water and drank down half before offering it to the Breton-Craig man.

At first he looked at her like he didn’t know where he was or how he had gotten there, but, just as she had, he shook it off and took the bottle from her. His gaze never left her as he drained the bottle, and Grace delved into the credenza behind Caroway’s desk.