Niro (Henchmen MC Next Generation 1)

It was pointless to pretend I was going to put up any kind of fight, regardless of the unprofessionalism, or the fact that people who had watched me grow up were stationed around to keep me out of harm's way.

I had nothing even resembling resistance when it came to Niro.

He reached out, locking the door, then turned me, pushing me up against the storage cabinet, lips claiming mine.

There was no time for soft and sweet.

His hands were as hungry, as demanding as his lips, reaching up under my top, finding my nipple, and rolling it to a tight point as his tongue moved over mine, dragging a quiet moan out of me, making Niro still, his mouth and hands immediately stopping.

"Every time you make a noise, I'm going to stop," he told me, as he pulled back, eyes dancing at the idea. We were both acutely aware that I was not anything resembling quiet when he was touching me. His hand often closed over my mouth, or he pushed my face into the pillows, the mattress, trying to muffle me as I came.

"I don't think I'm going to like this game," I decided as his hand moved across my chest to my other nipple.

"I'm going to enjoy the fuck out of it," he told me, smiling as his other hand slid down my belly, slipped under the waistband of my pants and panties, found my clit, and started moving over it in soft circles. "Nuh-uh," he scolded when a needy, mewling sound escaped me, his fingers moving away from my clit.

"Niro, please," I demanded, shamelessly grinding myself down on his hand.

"Be quiet and you can have whatever you want," he told me, pulling his hands out of my pants, turning me to bend forward over the sink, then drawing my pants and panties down my legs, leaving them around my ankles as he stepped forward, massaging my butt for a second as he worked himself free.

I could hear the crinkle of the wrapper a moment before I felt the head of him slide between my thighs, a promise of what was to come, but also what he was refusing to give me as he slid himself up my cleft over and over, driving me up, but never quite giving me the contact I so badly needed.

I took a slow, deep breath, trying to calm the chaos in my body.

But just like that, he shifted, and slammed inside me, catching me off-guard, something I think he did on purpose. A low, moan escaped me, making Niro still inside me.

"Please," I begged.

"You know the rules," he teased, his voice getting a little rough.

Sure, his rule was that if I made a noise that he would stop. That didn't mean I had to, did it?

Taking a deep breath, I started moving against him, getting that perfect friction I so badly needed, along with an encouraging growling noise from Niro as one of his hands landed on the side of my ass, squeezing hard enough to smart, resisting the urge, I think, to slap me, knowing the sound would carry in the small office.

"Oh, my God," I whimpered, circling my hips as I ground back into him, close to the edge already.

"Shh," he demanded, one hand slapping over my mouth, the other grabbing my shoulder, holding me in place as he started to thrust into me.

Hard.

Fast.

Relentless.

Driving me to that edge and then over it before I could even draw a steadying breath.

The orgasm stole every bit of strength from my legs, making me glad for the counter in front of me as I went down on my forearms, legs shaking, body crashing, wave after wave as Niro slammed into one last time. Hard. Deep. Jerking upward, he hissed out his breath as he came, his body folding over mine, crushing me to the counter.

"Fuck," he sighed, planting his hands next to my arms, pushing up, sliding out of me. "Not that I mind the view, baby, but are you planning on standing up and pulling your pants back up anytime soon?" he asked what seemed like a lifetime later.

"I'm not sure my legs are working," I admitted, getting a low chuckle out of Niro as he stooped down, pulling my underwear and pants back into place, then grabbing me, turning me, pressing his lips to mine.

"It smells like sex in here," I declared a moment later.

"It better," Niro agreed.

"I have a patient."

"We have a patient."

"Well, we can't have a patient in a room that smells like sex."

"Use the room across the hall. Tell 'em that cat pissed in here," he suggested, pulling me toward the door.

"Okay," I said a moment later, trying to pull myself back together. "How do I look?"

"Freshly fucked," he informed me, looking proud of himself.

And, I guess, he had every right too.