She yanked his belt free. His zipper followed. Foil crinkled from her rear pocket when she shimmied her legs bare, kicking away her sneakers. She grinned—“That was a hypothetical activity for today, yes”—before ripping open the condom packet with her teeth and a wild shake of her hair.
He moaned and dug his fingers into the creases of muscle in her thighs, angling her over him again, coaxing her hips lower against his. “You have genius ideas.”
“I know,” with a scrape of lace against his boxers, her arms arching overhead to toss off her sweater and reveal a camisole clinging to the curves of her breasts and waist. “And I like to hear you say it.”
“Urgh—” was all he could manage, however, because now her fingers sneaked down to curl around him. The cyclist’s calluses on the heel of her hand jolted his skin with electrifying friction as she firmed her grip on his cock.
“Yes?”
“U-uh!” The pressure rolling down his length was a sheath of ribbed latex. Choking on another devoutfuck, he thrust up against her fingers—and against her easy mastery of his body and brain, too, against those smiles and touches that knew the meaning of his every twitch and whimper. If he didn’t take back an edge of control now, he never would, and he stood no chance if she remained poised over him like this, tantalizing and powerful, so—
“Higher,” he told her.
“What?”
“Higher, Erin.” He urged her hips away from his, coaxing her up over his body and his desk, to his mouth.
“Oh.”
For once, she complied. Eyes wide, lips parted, startled and so,sobeautiful, she settled where he placed her with her knees splayed around his ears between his wobbling monitor and an equally unsteady desk lamp. He murmured at the apex of her thighs, “Here.”
“…oh!” Her shudder rippled over his mouth. Erin lurched forward to brace her palms against the wall behind his desk.
Grinning now himself, he stroked up her thighs to trace the lace of her panties between her legs, where it whispered against his lips. He edged the fabric aside, exposing her to the cool air and the heat of his breath.
“Yes?”
“Y-yes. F… for science.”
“Mmm.” He locked his fingers around her hips to hold her steady. Then he licked past the soft, wet curls to taste her. He set a slow pace, exploring with gentle nips, with firm suction and feather-light brushes, and she was almost motionless for a moment, just quivering in his hands and under his mouth, barely breathing. But when he slipped inside her, easing her closer, easing himself deeper,deeper, and flicked his tongue—her perilous balance on some internal precipice between pleasure and reflexive dominance shattered. Abandoning her brace against the wall, Erin’s fingers knotted in his hair. She ground down against his mouth, gasping, urging him deeper still. He flicked his tongue again. Her hips bucked hard.Again—and now she was reckless, wild, canting to the motions of his lips and tongue and teeth. A pen hit the floor. So did his lamp. The desk creaked beneath them, activating its glitchy elevation sequence.
He didn’t stop.
“Fuck, Ethan—” She was laughing as they rose, whimpering as he swirled his tongue, and it wasglorious.
He only gripped her thighs harder for balance, his own hips jerking while he swallowed her wetness, groaning his satisfaction as he followed the currents of her desire and his, tongue coaxing, fingers digging, caressing, breathing nothing but her, drowning in her rough, tightening joy, her body coiling taut above him, her eyes fluttering, breath stuttering, until—
—until—
Erin buried her teeth in her forearm with a soundless scream. The noise vibrated into his mouth and his ribs, mute and potent. He caught her as she collapsed sideways. Cradling her to his chest, first in silence and then, once he could breathe a little, with wordless murmurs against her hair, he ran one slow palm along her thigh flung across his to soothe her through the aftershocks, gentling her back to herself… but also to prevent her overheated skin from sliding over his groin, because if she touched him right now, he’d embarrass himself like a teenager.
“Good?” he asked after a quiet minute, when her panting had steadied against his shoulder.
“Ethan…” Her lips quivered. She raised her head, eyes hazy and shining above the glasses perched low on her nose. “Ilovescience.”
I love—
The words scrambled in his brain, shifting configurations.
But he didn’t say them. Instead, submitting to the simpler desires of his body and finally taking charge of his damn desk, he jabbed the descent button and said, starting to shoulder off his vest, “Yes. Experimental replication of results is key to our discipline, though.”
“Right. So keep the fleece.” Her thigh flexed with abrupt force, levering him up and over her while she twisted onto her back beneath him. One hand remained tangled in his hair and the other trailed down his chest, across his vest with naked satisfaction to curl around his latex-sheathed cock; obviously, he’d be leaving the fleece on. “But…”
“B-but?” Though he widened his stance on the carpet for leverage, for restraint, the rasp of her thumb still broke his voice.
“We should try some new data. Determine if we get the same results from this… input.”
It was her smug smile that broke his control, however. A single snap of his hips buried him inside her. He groaned. “Yes. For science.”
