Page 25 of No Way Out
I ran towards the wall, but he grabbed me by the waist, pressing my back to his front as my legs wiggled. I laughed, a hearty one born from the center of my chest. It was the sound of true happiness, and it had felt so foreign for so long. With Noah, everything was dull, gray. I’d stopped questioning whether it was love or whether it was what I deserved, because I thought, ‘at least I’m not alone.’
No, settling for someone who barely tolerated me was the worst thing I had done to myself. Numbed my senses just before I’d stepped out into a lightning storm, as if it somehow would protect me.
Every day with Demetri was a day I felt loved to the fullest capacity, accepted, worshiped.
“What if Noah had never broken up with me?” I whispered, almost afraid to ask as I turned my head back to look at him, his arms still holding me tightly.
He brought me down to the ground, spinning me to face him as he pinned me against his desk. “Look at me, Camila.” I obeyed, my eyes shifting from the ground to focus on the hard lines between his eyebrows. “Noah What’s-his-face was a fucking idiot for leaving you, but it was the smartest thing he ever did.” I quirked an eyebrow up. “It was torture seeing him with you. In my head, I’d already killed him a million ways, but I knew that if I killed him for real, you’d never love me. Not if I took him from you. Not if I broke your heart.”
His confession was too honest, too raw, too vulnerable for it to have been meant for someone as wretched and vile as me, but he liked to remind me that he wasn’t so innocent either. That’s what these confessions were about. I smiled, lifting up onto the table and spreading my legs open to give him the space to step between them.
His hands came down on my bare thighs with a hard slap, and I hissed, throwing my head back as his mouth found my neck. Soft kisses made their way up my jaw line as skilled fingers worked to spread my legs open, no underwear to be found under my skirt.
He shifted his gaze back up to my face, and I bit my lip. Discreet was never enough for him. I knew it, too. It just made him demand that I ask for it even more. “Why aren’t you wearing panties?” he growled.
Still chewing on my bottom lip, I finally gave it a rest to answer his question. “I was hoping I’d trip and maybe fall on a dildo or two on the way here.” A scream left my throat from the force of him flipping me and bending me over the table. As he lifted my skirt up to expose my ass completely, a cold wind brushed against my flesh, pebbling it as he readied me for what would come next.
I moaned in anticipation, and he coughed out a laugh, trying not to break character in this little game. His hand came down hard, the sharp sting burning over my ass. I’d yelled, I was sure of it, but before I could cry from the pain, his hand was there, rubbing softly over the angry skin.
Again, another slap, his hand coming down harder this time, with less reservation and more delay before he began to soothe me. I groaned, my hips thrusting into the air as my body begged for what it really wanted, what it really needed.
“Already, Camila? Look at you, dripping for my cock to stretch you open, ruin you for anyone else.” Two fingers slipped inside of me, a gasp falling from my lips as I felt how truly wet I was.
“Please, Demetri,” I begged, my voice a quiet whisper as I looked back at him.
Those green eyes were everything.
Three fingers found their way inside me, moving in and out as they rubbed against my g-spot while his thumb stayed pressed to my clit. I sobbed, my mouth already watering at the thought of the fourth finger coming next.
It never disappointed, stretching me open and getting me ready for him. The light sting was nothing in comparison to the initial burn of his cock in moments like these, where we couldn’t spend all day slowly working up to it.
He reached over me, opening his top drawer and pulling out a bottle of lube. My paranoia from my ex’s infidelity would have made me suspicious if we hadn’t already fucked in his office three times this week. At this point, I just considered him well prepared. He kept his hand on my back, pressing me down so that my chest was flat against his desk, all four fingers moving steadily in and out of me.
I heard his zipper, then the lube being squeezed from the bottle, unable to see much from my angle except the way that Death Star tattoo made his arm somehow look more defined and muscular.
Saliva dripped from my open lips onto his desk as we both savored the initial feeling of the head of his cock entering me,—how tight my cunt hugged his erection, how his swollen cock struggled to fit inside me.
It reminded me that I was his. Every time I felt the inexplicable burn of my pussy being abused by his cock, it reminded me that if I weren’t made for him, I wouldn’t be able to take it. I wouldn’t be able to let him fuck me and split me open and then put me back together so that I’d be limping when I left this office.
After a few moments of adjusting, he pulled back, drenching himself in more lubricant before thrusting in what I assumed to be halfway. Halfway stuffed, because I wasn’t yet overwhelmed.
Halfway because I was still greedy for more.
I pushed my hips back onto him, my silent plea to keep going.
He chuckled, a hand working its way around me, fingers slipping between my thighs to rub my most sensitive parts. I shuddered, thighs clenching together on instinct as he thrusted even deeper.
“You want me to stuff you full of my cum?” he asked, his voice laced in that husky confidence.
“Yes. Please,” I begged, reaching back for his hip, trying to force him deeper inside me.
He knocked my hand out of the way, grabbing both my wrists and pinning them to my back with a single, large hand. With the other, he came down on my ass once more, the noise sounding nearly inhuman as it made its way out of my mouth. Every part of me was needy for release, aching to be well fucked.
He pulled back, this time pushing his hips forward painfully slowly, teasing my body and my mind as he stretched me open. It drove me mad; I was sopping wet and desperate to be railed until my brain chemistry changed, and here he was, savoring it, moving lazily. I felt like one more thrust would blow me over the edge. I’d erupt and cum my brains out all over his desk.
He grabbed my hair, twisting it around his wrist before sinking deep inside me until I was left slack jaw-ed and wet-eyed at the feeling of his balls pressing against me. He tugged at my hair, pulling my head up and whispering into my ear. “Tell me how you want it, baby.”
“Hard,professor,” I gritted out, bracing myself for what would come next.
