In the dimly lit office, the air was thick with the scent of desire and anticipation. The woman, dressed in a form-fitting skirt and blouse, had long since abandoned any pretense of work. Her perfectly manicured fingers traced idle patterns on the desk, her gaze lingering on the man who stood before her.
He was a picture of restrained power, his muscles tense beneath his shirt. His eyes, dark and intense, seemed to strip her bare, leaving no secret hidden. A slow smile spread across his face as he took in the sight of her, her nipples hard beneath the silk of her blouse, the damp patch on her skirt that betrayed her arousal.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Ms. Thompson,” he murmured, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down her spine.
“Maybe I like dangerous games,” she replied, her voice husky with desire. She stood, her legs trembling slightly as she moved around the desk. Her fingers brushed against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart.
“You’re playing with fire,” he warned, but his hands were already reaching for her, pulling her close. His lips crashed down on hers, his tongue demanding entrance. She opened willingly, meeting his passion with her own.
His hands roamed her body, cupping her breasts, thumbing her nipples through the silk of her blouse. She moaned into his mouth, her hands tugging at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against hers. He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down her neck, nipping at the sensitive skin.
She gasped as his fingers found the hem of her skirt, sliding underneath. He stroked her thighs, his touch sending waves of pleasure through her. She spread her legs, allowing him access. His fingers found her wet and ready, stroking her clit in slow circles.
“Oh, God,” she moaned, her head falling back. Her hands clenched in his hair, pulling him closer. He continued to stroke her, his fingers sliding in and out of her. She was close, so close.
“Not yet,” he murmured, withdrawing his fingers. She whimpered in protest, but he was already unbuckling his belt, freeing his erection. He pushed her back onto the desk, her legs hanging over the edge.
“Look at me,” he commanded, and she obeyed, her eyes locked on his as he guided himself to her entrance. He pushed inside, inch by inch, filling her completely. She moaned, her nails digging into his shoulders.
He began to move, slowly at first, then faster. She met him thrust for thrust, their bodies slapping together. The sound filled the room, mingling with their moans and gasps.
“Yes, yes,” she chanted, her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper. He leaned down, his lips finding her nipple through the silk of her blouse. He sucked, hard, and she cried out, her orgasm crashing over her.
He followed her over the edge, his thrusts becoming erratic as he filled her with his seed. They stayed like that for a moment, panting and sweaty, their bodies still joined.
“Maybe we both like dangerous games,” he murmured, his lips brushing against hers. She smiled, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his back.
“Maybe we do,” she agreed.
