Propositioning Love

I give him a little push, trying to shove him away as the reality of this situation comes flooding back, but the rolling rub of his hips only increases.

“We need to stop,” I groan, as he forcibly drives me closer and closer to the edge of oblivion.

“No. No way in hell I’m letting you walk out that door like this.”

Trapped in his eyes, I try to fight off the release, but it’s beyond hopeless.

“Come for me, Zoe,” he demands and I shake my head, putting everything I have into resisting the need to let go.

“I can’t… I can’t…” I groan as he grinds against me so hard I swear our hips are sparking.

I can’t give into him now. I have too much to lose…

Hands grabbing me by the face, he growls while staring into my eyes. “Come.”

My body leaps to obey against my will.

Even knowing that just on the other side of his door is his assistant and an office full of my coworkers isn’t enough to hold back the tidal wave that crashes through me.

His mouth covers my mouth just in time to catch the cry that’s wrung out of my bones. Muscles tensing, core clenching on emptiness, I no longer have any self-control.

Swallowing my pleasure, he grinds and grinds his trapped cock as if he’s trying to shove it inside me.

God, how I wish he was inside me. Spearing me. Stretching me.

Filling this achy pressure.

Just like his push, the fall off the edge is ruthless. I twitch, spasm, and cry, my body writhing against him.

He swallows up all my little noises while his hands keep my face trapped in a death grip.

Gradually, his fingers loosen and I begin to float back down to reality.

“Fuck, that was beautiful,” he groans, reluctantly pulling away.

My heel hits the floor and the impact of it jolts my brain back into functioning.

“What was?” I ask, feeling like I missed something.

“Seeing you come undone in the light of day,” he grins as his hands steady me.

Body buzzing, brain humming with orgasmic energy, I stand as if I’m in a daze as he goes about straightening my clothing.

What the fuck just happened? Did I really just let him do that to me?

“Tonight we’ll finish this,” he promises and then pushes me back against the wall, messing me up all again.

The second time he fixes my clothing, I can feel his hands trembling.

Once he’s done, he grabs me by the hand and leads me to the door. Which is a good thing because in the state I’m in, I don’t think I could find it.

One last kiss and then he’s swinging the door open. His hand lingers on my hand just long enough that anyone walking by can see it.

“Bryce.” Ariel’s face swings our way.

The impact of what just happened slams into me and my cheeks burn with embarrassment.

Ariel’s eyes gleam and her ruby lips hint at a mischievous smirk as she takes in my ruffled appearance. “Mr. Tyson is still waiting on line three.”

Bry’s eyes never leave me as he tells her, “I’ll deal with him in a minute.”

Ariel nods and turns away, but not before I see a smirk sliding into place.

Fuck, she knows what just happened, but at least she’s probably not into Bry. If she was, there’s no way she would find this amusing.

Knees wobbly, I feel drunk and as graceless as a newborn colt as I focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

“I’ll stop by your desk after five,” Bry informs me.

Fearing I’ll fall on my ass if I try to look back at him, I simply nod my head in answer and keep going.

The heat of his gaze burns a scorching hole in my back as I make my way back to my desk. More than one head turns my way, curious eyes popping over cubicles. Lifting my chin into the air, I muster up what dignity I have left and try my best to ignore them.

Rounding the wall of my cubicle, all I want to do is throw myself into my chair to take a minute to get myself together and figure out what the hell just happened. It all happened so fast.

Was that really five minutes?

“Hey, I brought you lunch,” Clara’s says, spinning around in my chair to greet me.

She takes one look at me and immediately jumps up from my chair with the wrong conclusion. “Oh my god… he fired you? I can’t believe him!”

“Shush,” I try to hush her, the thought of others overhearing urgent enough to get me moving quickly.

“I’m going to march right in there and give him a piece of my mind!” Clara declares, her face coloring with righteous anger.

Unfortunately, even puffed up like she is, she’s still a cute little pixie, her anger only making her cuter.

“He didn’t fire me,” I groan as I use my hands to usher her deeper into my cubicle.