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The Boss's Office Part II

Author: Nancy Grey
last update Huling Na-update: 2025-05-14 19:52:23

“God, you’re so wet,” he growled against her skin, his teeth grazing her shoulder. His hand worked her expertly, bringing her closer and closer to the edge until she was shaking with need.

“James, please,” she whimpered, her hips rocking against his hand, desperate for more.

“You want this?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Please.”

Without a word, he pulled back slightly, his gaze dark and full of raw desire as he quickly undid his belt and discarded the rest of his clothes. Her eyes traveled over him, taking in the sharp lines of his muscular chest, the way his abs rippled with each breath. His body was hard, sculpted, his skin glistening with a light sheen of sweat. He was breathtaking, a powerful force of nature, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away.

“Like what you see?” he asked with a smirk, his voice low and dangerous.

Before she could answer, his hands were on her again, deftly undoing her skirt and sliding it down her legs. He tossed it aside, leaving her in nothing but her lace panties. His eyes darkened as he hooked his fingers into the waistband, pulling them down slowly, deliberately, the sensation making her shiver. Once they were gone, his hands gripped her thighs, pulling her closer to the edge of the desk, positioning himself between her legs.

“I’ve wanted this… wanted you, for so long,” he whispered, his voice rough with need as he lined himself up with her entrance. He held her gaze as he slowly, torturously slid inside her again, filling her inch by inch.

The sensation was intense, causing Sarah to inhale sharply, her fingers instinctively clutching the edge of the desk for support. His breath was hot against her neck, his lips hovering just above her skin as he groaned softly, the sound vibrating through her like a current.

“You’re so tight,” he murmured, his voice rough, sending shivers down her spine.

Sarah bit her lip, trying to keep herself grounded in the overwhelming sensations he was pulling from her. The slow, deep rhythm he set had her body responding in ways she couldn’t control—her back arching, her hips pressing upward to meet his every thrust.

"God, you feel so good," he growled, his lips grazing her earlobe before trailing down her neck.

Her breath caught as his teeth gently nipped at her skin, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through her. Her hands moved up, grasping his shoulders for leverage, needing something to anchor her to the moment. The feel of his strong, broad frame beneath her fingertips only heightened her awareness of just how thoroughly he controlled every aspect of the moment. And she loved it.

“James…” she gasped his name, her voice quivering, a mix of pleasure and need spilling from her lips as she clung to him.

In response, his grip tightened on her waist, pulling her hips harder against his. His thrusts grew deeper, more deliberate, as if he was determined to push her right to the edge. With each movement, she could feel him pressing further inside, filling her completely, and the ache between her legs only intensified.

“I want to hear you,” he said gruffly, his lips now brushing her collarbone, his tongue tracing lazy circles against her skin. "Don't hold back."

Sarah’s head fell back, giving him more access as her body responded to every one of his touches. She tried to suppress a moan, but it slipped out involuntarily, soft and breathless. The sound only seemed to spur him on, his rhythm becoming more forceful as his body pressed hers further into the desk.

His hand slid down her side and under her thigh, lifting her leg higher, giving him a deeper angle. The new position had her gasping, a low whimper escaping her lips as she felt him hit a new spot inside her. Her nails dug into his shoulders, pulling him closer, urging him to give her more, to take her completely.

His breath was ragged, his lips hovering just over hers as he thrust into her with increasing intensity. The sound of their bodies colliding, the slick, wet noise of him filling her again and again, filled the room. Her mind spun, her body trembling with the heat building inside her, and all she could do was hold onto him, praying that the pleasure wouldn't be too much, too fast.

“James… I—” she tried to speak, but her words were cut off by his mouth crashing against hers.

The kiss was hungry, demanding, his tongue sweeping into her mouth with a fierce intensity. She kissed him back just as fiercely, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. His hands moved down her back, slipping under her, gripping her ass as he thrust into her harder, his pace becoming more erratic, more desperate.

Her body arched off the desk, her legs wrapping around him as he pounded into her with deep, forceful strokes. The rhythm was relentless, his pace increasing as their bodies moved together, perfectly in sync. The friction, the heat, the raw intensity of it all had Sarah teetering on the edge, every thrust bringing her closer and closer to release.

“You’re mine,” he growled, his voice full of possessiveness as he leaned down to kiss her fiercely, his hands gripping her hips as he drove into her harder.

“Yours,” she gasped, her nails raking down his back as she felt the pressure inside her building to a breaking point. With one final, powerful thrust, he sent her over the edge. Her body shook violently as her orgasm crashed over her, waves of pleasure ripping through her, leaving her gasping and trembling beneath him. James groaned her name, his own release following seconds later as he buried himself deep inside her, his body shuddering with the force of it.

They stayed like that for a moment, their bodies still trembling, both of them trying to catch their breath. James leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers, his hands still gently caressing her skin.

"Sarah..." he whispered, his voice soft now, a contrast to the intensity of moments before.

She smiled up at him, her body still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure. “Yeah?”

He smirked, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “I’m not done with you yet."

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