She let out a desperate, broken sound and pressed her forehead to the desk, her back arching, hips shifting—begging without words.
“Please,” she whispered, wrecked, her thighs quivering beneath his palms.
Goddess, he could feel her heartbeat against his tongue. He could push her over the edge in an instant.
But not yet.
Instead, he pressed one last, lingering kiss to her skin and rose, his hands gliding up the curve of her spine as he straightened. His lips followed, ghosting over her shoulder, a fleeting touch meant to soothe and promise all at once.
He reached for his waistband, unzipping his pants, too close to the edge himself to bother getting them off completely.
“Can I?” he asked, his voice low and tight with restraint.
Nia glanced over her shoulder, her hair falling messily around her face, her eyes dark and hooded with want. She smiled. “I might die if you don’t,” she murmured, her voice shaky but teasing.
That was all he needed. Lochlan’s eyes dropped, taking her in under the low, golden light of the office. The way her hips swayed, seeking him out, made his breath catch. His gaze lingered, drinking in how wet she was, glistening and ready for him, and a low growl rumbled in his chest.
He gripped himself, guiding himself to her entrance, savoring the unbearable heat as he slowly pushed forward. The moment he sank into her, she gasped, her fingers curling against the desk’s surface, and he couldn’t hold back his own groan. The tight, slick heat of her surrounded him, and it was almost too much.
“Fuck,” Lochlan rasped, his forehead dropping to her shoulder for a moment as his hands dug into her hips. He pumped into her with slow, measured thrusts, his control hanging by a thread. “I’m going to go quick,” he admitted, his voice rough and raw.
Her hips rolled against him, a desperate rhythm that nearly undid him. “Don’t,” she said, her voice catching on a moan. “Let me come now. Then you can come in my mouth.”
His movements stilled, his breath catching in his throat. Just the image her promise conjured nearly pushed him to the brink. He could see it so clearly—Nia on her knees, looking up at him with those stunning, wicked eyes, her lips parted and eager.
Lochlan’s hands tightened on her hips, his chest heaving as he struggled to hold himself back.
“Loch?” Nia’s voice was breathless, laced with need and impatience.
He could barely process her words, his mind clouded with the overwhelming sensation of her warmth gripping him. “Just… need…” he groaned, his voice cracking as he thrust into her slowly, every movement stealing more of his control. “Fuck,” he bit out, his head falling forward. Words failed him.
Somehow, he managed to reach around her, his fingers finding her clit. He circled it, the slow, teasing motion making her gasp and jolt beneath him. Each stroke of his fingers was timed with the languid roll of his hips, and her body responded immediately, matching his rhythm.
She panted, her hips meeting each of his thrusts.
“You…” Lochlan rasped, punctuating the word with a thrust. “Better… come.” His voice was low and guttural, every word drenched in the strain of holding himself back.
And then she did.
Nia cried out, her body seizing around him, her walls clenching and pulsing in a way that made him curse sharply. He had to think about anything else—about plants, ancient books, goddess-damned mushrooms—but nothing could compete with the sensation of her falling apart around him.
She cursed loudly, her fingers clutching at the desk’s edge like it was the only thing keeping her grounded. Her head dropped, her body shuddering as she rode out the wave of her orgasm, her thighs trembling with each aftershock.
“Loch,” she gasped.
“I can’t,” he groaned, his voice desperate, raw. He was right there, teetering on the edge, and it would only take one more thrust?—
“You better,” she said, her tone teasing despite the breathlessness in her voice.
Lochlan pulled out, and before he could fully process what was happening, she was on her knees before him.
Nia looked up, her face flushed, her breath still ragged as she reached for him. Her fingers wrapped around his cock, slick and hard, and he jerked violently in her grasp.
Her pants were still bunched around her ankles, her shirt disheveled and giving him a tantalizing glimpse of her breasts, her nipples hard beneath the fabric. She was a vision—messy, radiant, and perfect.
“Fuck,” Lochlan muttered, his voice breaking. “Fuck, fuck.” His head tipped back, his hands braced against the desk for support as his body tightened in anticipation.
He didn’t deserve this—her, like this, looking at him with those sinful eyes, her lips curved in a wicked smile. He was going to die, right here, and there wouldn’t be a better way to go.
