I was in sensory overload from his cock, grip, and teeth, not to mention his body pinning me to the wall. Everything he did made me his. With every thrust of his hips, every dirty word, and every bite, he claimed me.
He bit down on the meat of my shoulder, and I screamed as a second orgasm ripped through me. My hands searched for something to grab hold of, and they found his neck, pulling him ever closer as my body shook. A groan escaped him; the rhythm of his hips became erratic as my walls milked him.
I was still coming when his teeth clamped down harder and his hips slammed flush with mine. I could feel his c**k pulsating as he spilled inside me, pushing further into me with each spurt.
We were both breathing hard as we came down from our sex-induced high. His knees buckled and we slid down the wall, his forehead resting on mine. After a moment he removed himself from me; my body mourned the loss.
Standing up, he straightened out his clothing as he began pacing. I stayed where I was on the floor, my eyes watching him. My muscles resembled Jell-O too much to move. He gathered up his suit jacket and threw it on, never stopping his pacing. His hands moved through his hair, pulling at his neck, while he whispered “shit” over and over again, so low I almost couldn’t hear him.
He was regretting the greatest sex of my life. Fantastic.
He stopped and turned toward me, and my eyes widened at the look of absolute hatred and disgust that met me. His hand grasped the coffee cup on my desk and hurled it into the wall, making me jump. The ceramic shattered into pieces before landing on the floor.
“Fuck!” he screamed, then flung the door open and stormed out.
I was left sitting on the floor, stunned, staring at an empty doorway. After a few minutes, I knew he wasn’t returning, and I picked my tired, sore ass up off the ground. I collected my torn and tattered clothing, trying to redress myself as best I could with what I had remaining. With wobbling legs, I gathered my purse and walked out to my car, leaving the office in a state of disarray.
CHAPTER 3
It was hard to pull myself from the warm comfort of my bed the next morning. I ached, and my mind begged to call in sick. It wasn’t going to happen, though.
My hand slammed down on top of my alarm clock, shutting off the offending piece of plastic. I turned on the light and slid out of bed.
My feet were dragging as I entered the master bath, rubbing my tired eyes in an attempt to wake up. I stopped in front of the mirror and stared at my reflection, shocked at what I saw. My normal bird’s nest of blonde hair and the dark circles from lack of sleep were present. What wasn’t normal were the black and purple marks that marred my skin. There were hand prints on my hips from where he’d grabbed me, imprints of his teeth around my neck and shoulders, and small bruises along my chest.
It was cold out so I could get away with a high collared shirt. I stared at myself for a moment. Was that really what I should’ve been concerned about? If his teeth marks were visible or not? Shouldn’t I have been concerned there were marks at all?
I wasn’t embarrassed about them, they were a reminder of the pleasure he’d given me. I found I liked them. How twisted was I?
While turning to step toward the shower, I groaned. My legs felt like they were no longer connected to my hips, and I was in major need of some aspirin for the ache between my thighs. There was no doubt; my pu**y was sore from the pounding Nathan’s c**k had given it. I never did see the glory between his legs, but I sure felt it, and he was well-endowed.
The spray was cold, turning warm after a minute, and I felt myself slipping back into the out-of-body experience I had when I left the office the previous day. I stepped under the warm spray, the water wrapping around my body, loosening my muscles. The moment I started to relax, my eyes snapped open.
Nathan lived in my building.
I’d be seeing him soon if I didn’t run into him on my way.
Panic began to rise within me. He’d been so angry when he left. Would he still be? If he was, I didn’t know if I could be in the same space as him. It would be too much; I’d crack. I had no idea what to do when I next saw him, nor did I have any idea how he would react upon seeing me.
“Stop it! You’re making yourself crazy when there’s not a f**king thing you can do about it,” I told myself.
I returned to showering, taking several deep breaths to clear my head.
After my shower, I pulled out a short sleeve mock-neck blouse and one of my black pants suits, making sure that all of his marks were covered as I dressed. It worked, and anything else could be hidden by my hair.
I let my hair air-dry like always, brushing through the knots in an effort to make it look presentable. It was stick straight and dirty blonde; not much to work with. I decided that I could get away with throwing it up in a bun if it gave me trouble later.
After grabbing my purse, I headed out, locking the door behind me. I was anxious as I waited for the elevator to arrive, my heart racing. I was afraid when it came he might be on it. My nerves were getting the better of me. I let out the breath I was holding when the doors opened and the cab was empty. My shoulders relaxed, a tension I didn’t realize I was holding evaporating.
Fifteen minutes later, I pulled into my normal spot in the parking lot and froze when I saw his car was already there. It felt like I was on trial, heading to receive my sentence when I’d done nothing wrong. Other than inwardly swoon at a gorgeous man and let him take me against a wall, that is.
My heart was hammering against my chest and my hands were shaking as I walked down the hall, the office door in view. I let out a sigh when I found it empty, giving me at least a small moment to compose myself. Scanning the room, I could find no evidence of the previous night’s activities, and was shocked to find the remnants of the cup had been removed. No buttons from our shirts that had flown around, the papers all back in their stacks, the painting on the wall straightened.
My face flamed at the memory of him tearing my shirt; one of the most erotic things ever done to me.
A noise from behind startled me. I turned to find a wide-eyed Nathan standing in the doorway. We stayed in place, staring at each other as time seemed to stop. Neither knowing what to say or do. A range of emotions crossed his eyes, so fast it was hard to keep up: fear, anger, sadness, and, the strongest, regret.
Stepping to his right, Nathan moved to sit at his desk, eyes to the ground as he greeted me in an almost whisper. He sat; our interaction was over, and he continued with whatever he’d been working on. I shook my head to clear it from channel Nathan, forcing my body to respond to me, not him, and sat at my desk.
He bit down on the meat of my shoulder, and I screamed as a second orgasm ripped through me. My hands searched for something to grab hold of, and they found his neck, pulling him ever closer as my body shook. A groan escaped him; the rhythm of his hips became erratic as my walls milked him.
I was still coming when his teeth clamped down harder and his hips slammed flush with mine. I could feel his c**k pulsating as he spilled inside me, pushing further into me with each spurt.
We were both breathing hard as we came down from our sex-induced high. His knees buckled and we slid down the wall, his forehead resting on mine. After a moment he removed himself from me; my body mourned the loss.
Standing up, he straightened out his clothing as he began pacing. I stayed where I was on the floor, my eyes watching him. My muscles resembled Jell-O too much to move. He gathered up his suit jacket and threw it on, never stopping his pacing. His hands moved through his hair, pulling at his neck, while he whispered “shit” over and over again, so low I almost couldn’t hear him.
He was regretting the greatest sex of my life. Fantastic.
He stopped and turned toward me, and my eyes widened at the look of absolute hatred and disgust that met me. His hand grasped the coffee cup on my desk and hurled it into the wall, making me jump. The ceramic shattered into pieces before landing on the floor.
“Fuck!” he screamed, then flung the door open and stormed out.
I was left sitting on the floor, stunned, staring at an empty doorway. After a few minutes, I knew he wasn’t returning, and I picked my tired, sore ass up off the ground. I collected my torn and tattered clothing, trying to redress myself as best I could with what I had remaining. With wobbling legs, I gathered my purse and walked out to my car, leaving the office in a state of disarray.
CHAPTER 3
It was hard to pull myself from the warm comfort of my bed the next morning. I ached, and my mind begged to call in sick. It wasn’t going to happen, though.
My hand slammed down on top of my alarm clock, shutting off the offending piece of plastic. I turned on the light and slid out of bed.
My feet were dragging as I entered the master bath, rubbing my tired eyes in an attempt to wake up. I stopped in front of the mirror and stared at my reflection, shocked at what I saw. My normal bird’s nest of blonde hair and the dark circles from lack of sleep were present. What wasn’t normal were the black and purple marks that marred my skin. There were hand prints on my hips from where he’d grabbed me, imprints of his teeth around my neck and shoulders, and small bruises along my chest.
It was cold out so I could get away with a high collared shirt. I stared at myself for a moment. Was that really what I should’ve been concerned about? If his teeth marks were visible or not? Shouldn’t I have been concerned there were marks at all?
I wasn’t embarrassed about them, they were a reminder of the pleasure he’d given me. I found I liked them. How twisted was I?
While turning to step toward the shower, I groaned. My legs felt like they were no longer connected to my hips, and I was in major need of some aspirin for the ache between my thighs. There was no doubt; my pu**y was sore from the pounding Nathan’s c**k had given it. I never did see the glory between his legs, but I sure felt it, and he was well-endowed.
The spray was cold, turning warm after a minute, and I felt myself slipping back into the out-of-body experience I had when I left the office the previous day. I stepped under the warm spray, the water wrapping around my body, loosening my muscles. The moment I started to relax, my eyes snapped open.
Nathan lived in my building.
I’d be seeing him soon if I didn’t run into him on my way.
Panic began to rise within me. He’d been so angry when he left. Would he still be? If he was, I didn’t know if I could be in the same space as him. It would be too much; I’d crack. I had no idea what to do when I next saw him, nor did I have any idea how he would react upon seeing me.
“Stop it! You’re making yourself crazy when there’s not a f**king thing you can do about it,” I told myself.
I returned to showering, taking several deep breaths to clear my head.
After my shower, I pulled out a short sleeve mock-neck blouse and one of my black pants suits, making sure that all of his marks were covered as I dressed. It worked, and anything else could be hidden by my hair.
I let my hair air-dry like always, brushing through the knots in an effort to make it look presentable. It was stick straight and dirty blonde; not much to work with. I decided that I could get away with throwing it up in a bun if it gave me trouble later.
After grabbing my purse, I headed out, locking the door behind me. I was anxious as I waited for the elevator to arrive, my heart racing. I was afraid when it came he might be on it. My nerves were getting the better of me. I let out the breath I was holding when the doors opened and the cab was empty. My shoulders relaxed, a tension I didn’t realize I was holding evaporating.
Fifteen minutes later, I pulled into my normal spot in the parking lot and froze when I saw his car was already there. It felt like I was on trial, heading to receive my sentence when I’d done nothing wrong. Other than inwardly swoon at a gorgeous man and let him take me against a wall, that is.
My heart was hammering against my chest and my hands were shaking as I walked down the hall, the office door in view. I let out a sigh when I found it empty, giving me at least a small moment to compose myself. Scanning the room, I could find no evidence of the previous night’s activities, and was shocked to find the remnants of the cup had been removed. No buttons from our shirts that had flown around, the papers all back in their stacks, the painting on the wall straightened.
My face flamed at the memory of him tearing my shirt; one of the most erotic things ever done to me.
A noise from behind startled me. I turned to find a wide-eyed Nathan standing in the doorway. We stayed in place, staring at each other as time seemed to stop. Neither knowing what to say or do. A range of emotions crossed his eyes, so fast it was hard to keep up: fear, anger, sadness, and, the strongest, regret.
Stepping to his right, Nathan moved to sit at his desk, eyes to the ground as he greeted me in an almost whisper. He sat; our interaction was over, and he continued with whatever he’d been working on. I shook my head to clear it from channel Nathan, forcing my body to respond to me, not him, and sat at my desk.
