Page 67 of Dirty Play

He groans deep in his throat and pushes his cock deep into my pussy. “God,” I choke out, clutching his shoulders, my nails biting into his skin. He was gentle at first, but now I can feel the intensity building. His pace quickens, and the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the office.

“Fuck,” he breathes, using my hair to guide me toward him, capturing my lips in a kiss as he continues to pump inside me.

His thrusts grow harder, faster, and each movement sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through me, igniting every nerve ending.

“Oh my god,” I gasp against his mouth, my fingers clawing at him. The way he fills me, the friction of his thrusts drives me closer to the edge again. It’s intoxicating and maddening, and I can’t get enough. I can feel his body tense, the way he holds back just enough, and it makes me ache for him even more.

“You’re incredible, baby,” he praises me against my lips, his voice low and raspy.

With a sudden shift, he pulls out completely, only to thrust back in hard, sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through me.

“God, Rowan!” I gasp, my body responding instinctively, wanting more, needing him to take me higher.

He grips my hips, his fingers digging in as he pounds into me relentlessly. The desk shakes beneath us, and I can barely contain the sounds spilling from my lips.

He puts a hand over my mouth. He thrusts even harder, each stroke hitting that sweet spot inside me, sending me spiraling. I moan into his hand, feeling the tension building again, coiling tighter within me. He rolls his hips again and again, creating a whole new level of sensation inside me, the heat building until I can’t hold back any longer.

“That’s it. Come all over his cock, baby,” he commands before returning to relentless fast thrusts. “Show me what a good girl you are.”

With those words, the tension snaps, and pleasure crashes over me like a tidal wave. His hand covers my nose as well, stopping the cry that was about to let everyone know exactly what we’re doing. I let go, my body convulsing around him, every nerve alive with ecstasy as the sounds battle with his hand.

“Fuck!” he curses, his own release following closely behind as his thrusts go out of rhythm. I feel his cock throb inside me, the sensation sending another wave of pleasure through me.

He rides the waves, pumping gently as he helps me ride out my high. He removes his hand, and I take a big gulp of air, my burning lungs expanding. He leans down, pressing soft kisses against my lips, each one igniting butterflies deep in my stomach.

As Rowan eases out of me, I feel a shiver run through my body before he pulls back, his gaze searching mine.

“Are you okay?” he pants, his breath warm against my skin.

“Yeah,” I breathe, still a bit dazed. “More than okay.”

He smiles, that cocky grin stretching across his face, and I can’t help but mirror it. There’s something completely empowering about this, about having one of the best hockey players in the NHL unable to get enough of me.

Rowan leans back slightly, his eyes roving over me like he’s memorizing every detail.

“Let’s get you fixed up,” he says playfully as he brushes my hair back from my face, tucking it behind my ear.

“Am I something to fix?” I challenge as his fingers move through my hair.

“You look perfect right now.” He leans down to plant another soft kiss on the corner of my mouth. “Only I get to see what you look like after you’ve been fucked,” he adds, that mischievous smirk dancing on his lips.

I roll my eyes, though my tummy does a little flip. “Possessive much?”

His hand travels to my jaw, squeezing lightly before he leans in.

“You have no idea,” he murmurs into my ear before kissing my cheek and letting go.

Once I look somewhat presentable, he straightens and walks to the trash can, pulling off the condom and tossing it inside. I watch him, my heart racing at the casual way he handles everything, how he flicks between being dominant and this laid-back dude who knows he’s hot.

He grabs a tissue from the box, wipes himself down, and tucks himself back into his shorts.

“I’ll have the cleaners come take out the trash,” he says, his tone light, but his eyes are still locked on mine, filled with that familiar mischief.

With one last lingering gaze, he presses his lips against mine, slow and deliberate, and I can taste the remnants of my arousal on them. It sends a fresh wave of heat coursing through me.

“Would you look at that,” he says, looking at the clock behind me. “Right on time,” he adds, stepping back, that smug satisfaction clear in his expression.

I huff out a scoff, shaking my head as his lips stretch into a gentle smile.

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