Chapter 2:Revenge with my boyfriend’s father part 2

Victor stayed buried inside Emily, his cock still thick and pulsing, softening only slightly after her orgasm. Her inner walls fluttered around him in lazy aftershocks. Sweat cooled on their skin. The office air felt heavy with the smell of sex, musky arousal, salty skin, the faint metallic tang of her wetness on his shaft.

He exhaled slowly through his nose. His hands remained on her hips, thumbs brushing the soft skin just above her hip bones. He didn’t pull out. He didn’t move.

Emily lifted her head from where it had fallen back against the desk blotter. Her black hair stuck to her damp forehead in strands. She looked up at him. His jaw was tight, eyes fixed somewhere over her shoulder, at the frozen video still glowing on the screen.

“You’re thinking about him,” she said quietly.

Victor’s gaze dropped to her face. “He’s my son even if he’s an asshole. What we are doing is not right.”

She shifted her hips, deliberately clenching around him. His breath hitched, his cock twitched inside her.

“He’s downstairs right now,” she said.

“Probably sulking in the living room or fucking Mia again because he can’t stand being told no.” Her voice stayed low, steady.

“You know he can hear us if we’re loud enough.”

Victor’s fingers flexed on her hips. “Emily…”

She sat up slowly. His cock slid out of her with a wet sound.

A thick strand of their combined release stretched between the head and her swollen entrance, then snapped. It dripped onto the polished mahogany desk. She ignored it.

Her torn blouse hung open. The black lace bra cups were still pulled down below her breasts, nipples dark and stiff from earlier friction. She reached behind her back, unhooked the bra completely, and let it fall to the floor beside the desk. Her breasts settled free, heavy, soft, the undersides slightly flushed from being confined.

Victor’s eyes dropped to them and he swallowed.

She noticed.

Emily slid off the desk. Her skirt was bunched around her waist, panties still shoved to the side, soaked through. She stepped out of her heels, then hooked her thumbs into the waistband of the skirt and panties together. She pushed both down her legs in one slow motion, stepping out of them. She was naked now except for the ruined silk blouse hanging off her shoulders.

She closed the distance between them. Victor hadn’t moved. His trousers and briefs were still open, cock hanging half-hard, slick with her earlier release. She pressed her body against his, breasts flattening against the crisp white shirt, nipples dragging over cotton. She felt the rapid thud of his heart through the fabric.

“You keep looking,” she murmured, rising on her toes so her lips brushed his ear. “At my tits every time the buttons popped, you looked. Even when the guards had me.”

His hands stayed at his sides. His fists clenched.

“I’m not doing this to hurt him, that's not who I am.” he said, his voice rough.

She reached between them wrapped her fingers around his cock and he stroked once, slow, from base to tip. He hissed through his teeth.

“Then why are you getting hard again?” she asked.

His eyes closed for a second.

Emily dropped to her knees in front of him. The carpet was thick, soft against her skin. She looked up at him while she pumped his shaft with her hand in firm, steady strokes that made pre-come bead at the slit. She leaned in, dragged the flat of her tongue along the underside from balls to tip.

Victor’s hand shot out with his fingers threading into her hair.

She took him into her mouth. She swallowed him deep on the first go, throat relaxing until her nose pressed against his trimmed pubic hair. His cock filled her mouth completely, hot, heavy, and stretching her lips wide. She hummed around him. The vibration made his thighs tense.

“Fuck,” he muttered, the word sounded torn out of him.

She bobbed slowly at first with her lips sealed tight, tongue swirling around the head on every upstroke. Saliva slicked him, dripped down his shaft, and coated her fingers where she held the base. She pulled off with a wet pop, strings of spit connecting her lips to the glistening head.

“Tell me to stop, say it and I’ll stop.” She said.

He looked down at her kneeling, naked, lips swollen and shiny, eyes locked on his. His chest rose and fell faster.

He didn’t say stop.

Emily sucked him again, harder, deeper, and faster. Her free hand cupped his balls, rolling them gently, feeling them draw up tight. She hollowed her cheeks, sucking hard on the upstroke. His hips jerked forward pushing deeper into her throat. She gagged softly, eyes watering, but didn’t pull away.

Victor’s grip in her hair tightened. He started fucking her mouth in short, controlled thrusts. The wet gluck-gluck sounds filled the office. Her saliva ran down her chin, dripped onto her breasts.

After a minute he pulled out. His cock bobbed in front of her face, dark red, veins standing out, slick and shining.

“Up,” he said. Voice gravel.

She stood.

He spun her around, bent her over the desk. Her breasts pressed flat against the cool wood, nipples scraping. He kicked her feet wider apart. One hand pressed between her shoulder blades, pinning her down. The other guided his cock to her entrance.

He didn’t ease in.

One hard thrust and he was buried to the hilt. Emily cried out, the sound sharp and raw. He stretched her again, thicker now from arousal, pressing against every nerve. Her walls clamped down immediately.

Victor didn’t wait. He fucked her hard, deep, punishing strokes that rocked the desk forward an inch with each snap of his hips. The slap of skin on skin was loud. Her arousal coated his shaft, ran down the insides of her thighs in thin rivulets. Every time he bottomed out, his balls slapped against her clit.

She pushed back to meet him, ass jiggling with each impact, breasts sliding on the desk. Sweat slicked her back. His free hand gripped her hip, fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks.

“Harder,” she gasped.

He gave it to her faster and deeper. The desk creaked dangerously.

Down the hall, faint voices drifted up from the main floor, Ryan’s voice, low and angry, arguing with someone.

Victor leaned over her. His chest pressed to her back and his mouth at her ear.

“He can hear you,” he growled. “Every time you moan like that.”

Emily moaned louder and deliberately. “Good.”

Victor’s rhythm faltered for half a second, then turned brutal. He slammed into her so hard her hips bruised against the desk edge. She keened, fingers scrabbling at the wood.

He pulled out suddenly. Flipped her onto her back and spread her legs wide, hooked them over his shoulders. Her pussy was swollen, pink, glistening and cream smeared across her inner lips and down to her ass. He lined up and drove back in. The new angle hit deep, brushing her cervix with every thrust.

Emily’s hands flew to her breasts, pinching her own nipples, twisting. Her head thrashed side to side.

“Touch me,” she begged. “My clit, please…”

Victor’s thumb found her clit, swollen. He rubbed fast, tight circles while he fucked her. The dual sensation snapped something inside her. Her back arched off the desk and her thighs shook violently.

“I’m coming, fuck, Victor!”

Her orgasm hit like a wave. Her walls spasmed hard around his cock, milking him. She screamed his name again, loud enough that it echoed off the bookshelves. Pleasure ripped through her in sharp, electric bursts. Her vision whited out at the edges.

Victor kept thrusting through it, grunting now, control fraying.

“Where?” he rasped.

“Inside,” she panted. “Come inside me. Fill me up.”

He buried himself deep with one last brutal thrust and came. Hot pulses flooded her. Thick ropes of cum spurting against her cervix. His cock jerked with each spurt. He groaned low in his throat, hips grinding in slow circles, forcing every drop deeper.

They stayed locked together, breathing hard. His weight pinned her to the desk. Her legs trembled around his shoulders. Come leaked out around his softening cock, dripping onto the wood beneath her ass.

Victor finally pulled out. A thick gush of white followed sliding down her slit and pooling under her. The sight made her inner muscles flutter again.

He helped her sit up. Her legs wouldn’t hold her weight yet. She leaned against him, forehead on his shoulder, both of them slick with sweat.

The room was filled with silence, only their breathing and the faint tick of the wall clock.

Then, they heard footsteps in the hallway.

The office doors banged open and Ryan stood in the doorway.

He looked miserable with his shirt untucked and messy hair. His eyes widened as he took in the scene with his father's trousers open, cock still wet and hanging standing between Emily’s spread thighs.

Emily, naked except for the torn blouse draped over her shoulders with her legs dangling off the desk, cum leaking steadily from her swollen pussy onto the polished surface. Her breasts heaving, lips red and swollen and her hair wild.

Victor straightened slowly and tucked himself away.

Emily didn’t move to cover herself. She met Ryan’s stare head-on with a raised brow.

Ethan’s mouth opened and closed again.

“You… you fucking…” His voice cracked.

Victor stepped forward, placing himself slightly between them.

“Get out of my office,” Victor said with the same tone he’d used earlier when he told them to leave the house.

Ethan’s eyes flicked from his father to Emily.

Something broke behind Ethan’s eyes.

He turned and walked out with his head bowed.

Emily exhaled, a shaky laugh escaped her.

Victor turned back to her. He reached out and brushed a strand of hair off her damp cheek.

“You okay?” he asked.

She nodded then she slid off the desk. She didn’t bother picking up her clothes.

Instead she walked to the door naked, with cum still trickling down her inner thigh and locked it.

She turned back to Victor.

“Time for another round we are not done.” she said her voice was hoarse but steady.

Victor watched her cross the room, hips swaying slightly, breasts bouncing with each step, confidence in every movement.