I reached behind him without breaking contact, pressing the button that secured all entrances to the office. The subtle click released something in Vincent. His movements grew bolder, more demanding.
"I've been thinking about this too," he admitted, his voice rough with desire. "You, in this office. In charge."
I smiled against his neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. "You like me in power, doc?"
"I like you claiming what's yours," he corrected, fingers tangling in my hair.
I spun him around suddenly, pressing him face-down over the desk. His surprised gasp turned into a moan as I molded myself against his back, rubbing my rapidly hardening cock against him.
"Hands on the far edge of the desk, Dr. Matthews," I instructed. "Don't let go, no matter what."
Vincent complied immediately, stretching his arms forward to grip the opposite edge of the desk. The position displayed him beautifully, vulnerable yet willing. I pressed my palm against the small of his back while my other hand worked his belt open.
"What happens if I let go?" he asked, the challenge in his voice unmistakable.
I leaned down, my lips brushing his ear. "Then I stop. And I don't think either of us wants that."
His knuckles whitened on the desk edge. "Noted."
I took my time undressing him, peeling away layers until his pants and underwear pooled around his ankles. My hands explored the newly exposed skin, appreciating the contrast of his bare skin against the sleek, modern desk.
"Beautiful," I murmured, pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck. "Mine."
Vincent's breathing quickened, his body responding to my touch, my words. "Yes."
I retrieved a small bottle of lubricant from the top drawer. Vincent's surprised laugh turned into a moan as I prepared him thoroughly, my fingers working him open. "You came prepared." He gasped as I curled my fingers inside him, finding that spot that made him arch beautifully.
"I always plan ahead." I scissored my fingers, stretching him carefully. "It's why I'm so good at my job."
His laugh transformed into another moan as I added a third finger. "And which job would that be? Director or—oh god—or assassin?"
"Both," I replied, withdrawing my fingers to unfasten my own pants. "But right now, I'm focused on a much more important position."
I moved behind him, my cock nudging against tight muscle. His breath hitched, suspended between anticipation and surrender. I pushed forward, the pressure building until that exquisite moment when resistance crumbled and his body swallowed me inch by inch, heat wrapping around metal and flesh alike.
Vincent's cry ricocheted off glass and steel as I filled him completely. His spine arched, muscles trembling beneath my palms. His fingers maintained their death grip on the desk edge, knuckles white against the pristine surface. I paused, giving him time to adjust, my hands gripping his hips firmly enough to leave marks.
"Remember," I murmured, dropping a kiss between his shoulder blades, "don't let go."
I started moving, establishing a rhythm that made the desk creak slightly beneath us. Each thrust pushed Vincent forward, testing his grip on the edge. He responded beautifully, pushing back against me, taking me deeper.
"Fuck, Luka," he gasped, his composure crumbling with each stroke. "Harder."
I obliged, increasing my pace, my hands leaving bruises on his hips. The position gave me perfect leverage to hit that spot inside him with every thrust. His moans grew louder, less controlled, his usual professional demeanor obliterated by pleasure.
"That's it," I encouraged, one hand sliding up his back to tangle in his hair. "Let me hear you."
Just as Vincent's cries reached a crescendo, the phone on my desk rang, its shrill tone cutting through our private symphony. Vincent froze beneath me, his head turning slightly.
"Ignore it," he pleaded.
I glanced at the display. It was an internal line from the security division. Something that couldn't wait.
"Can't," I replied, reaching for the phone without breaking my rhythm inside him. "Important."
Vincent stiffened as I answered mid-thrust, eyes growing enormous. Almost comical.
"Director Aleksandar," I answered, my voice remarkably steady despite the exquisite heat gripping my cock.
