Page 3 of Dirty Sweet Valentine
“No, please. Please. Please, don’t.” I’d never tried begging before when we’d played this.
His eyes darkened and his breaths shallowed. His pelvis was pressed flush to mine so I could feel every inch of the solid column of flesh hidden under his clothes. It seemed to grow thicker with my pleading. My pussy ached in response. I was wet with arousal, my clit buzzing as erotic organ called out to erotic organ, a primal mating song.
Why did I get off on this so much? The fantasy, the fight, the force, the fuck. It was my favorite way to make love, and as crazy as it seemed to say that, I knew that was exactly what this was for him too—making love. Using our physical bodies to express an emotion we both felt in abundance for the other. While I could never know the whys of what made my libido light up, I did know for certain that he and I were meant to be.
“While your begging is quite lovely, I’m not going to change my plans. I can smell your cunt from here, and I can already tell it’s too sweet to pass up.” He pushed himself up to a kneeling position and took off his gloves before undoing his belt. He’d changed to jeans, I noticed now, paired with the rust button-down mock turtleneck sweater I’d given him for Christmas. He was as enticing in casual as he was dressed up.
Involuntarily, my tongue flicked out along my bottom lip.
You’re supposed to not want this, I reminded myself.
“I’ll scream,” I said when he lifted his ass up to pull his jeans and underwear down. Fuck, he was beautiful like that—dressed completely except for that swollen rod of pleasure. “I’ll do it. I’ll scream at the top of my lungs.”
He let out my favorite chuckle, the one that vibrated low in his throat and made a shiver roll through my body. “Go ahead. You think anyone can hear us up here? They can’t.”
Clutching the torso of my dress with both hands, he pulled in opposite directions, tearing the fabric at the buttons, and exposing the lacy red bra I’d bought for the holiday.
I hadn’t imagined it would be revealed quite like this. Obviously, I needed a better imagination because this was the best way to show off the new item.
His eyes glazed as he traced over my spiked nipples through the material. It was too gentle of a touch that had me writhing and shaking. Pure torture of the best kind.
When he roughly pulled down the cups of the bra so he could palm my breasts, I screamed. Loud and with gusto.
I couldn’t yell like that at our apartment. Someone would actually come to help, but he was right about no one being able to hear us at the office—the security guards were stationed too far away and wouldn’t come to the floor unless the alarm went off—and though my insides were shouting something more like Holy hell I am so turned on right now, the words that I let out were, “Help me! Somebody help me!”
He pinched my nipples hard in reply, prompting my back to arch up. I let out another scream.
“No one will hear you, but that’s definitely annoying,” he said after several seconds of shrill howling. “Good thing I know just how to shut you up.”
He crawled up my body until he was sitting over my face, the head of his cock poised at my lips. “Suck it,” he said. “No teeth or you’ll regret it.”
My mouth watered, wanting him. But I forced my lips together in refusal.
“Open your mouth and suck it.” He was more demanding this time, the intensity making my pussy clench in awe.
Still, I shook my head and kept my mouth shut tight.
Swiftly, he climbed off of me. Still on his knees, he dragged me to the front of Ellen’s desk. He sat there, his back against the desk with his legs spread apart so that he could maneuver me in between them. In this position, he had full control of my head. One sharp pull of my hair, and my mouth fell open on a yelp, cutting off as he shoved his cock forcefully between my lips.
“We could have done this the easy way,” he said as he forced my head up and down over him. “I’m very happy you chose this way instead.”
Despite the sting at my scalp and not being able to catch a full breath, I was too. He’d never fucked my mouth so aggressively, his tip hitting the back of my throat on each stroke, sometimes reaching farther when he pushed his hips up so I would take him deep. My eyes began to water. I gagged more than once. Several times. I was suddenly grateful that I hadn’t found anything to eat in the kitchen because I wasn’t sure I would have been able to keep it down.
And still, I was pretty sure I was as close to orgasm as he was.
“I knew your mouth was good for something besides squealing.” His words came out in breathy grunts. “Does your cunt feel as tight as your throat? Should we find out?”
I moaned, a muffled sound that could have been a cry of protest or a cry of longing. He shuddered as the sound vibrated over his cock, causing him to abruptly pull out.
“I’ll take that as a yes. But if it was a no, that’s fun too.” He stood, and when I refused to stand with him, he picked me up and laid me on top of Ellen’s desk.
I kicked and thrashed, but that only caused my dress to rip more as he worked his hands up my skirt. The lace thong I’d worn was even easier for him to get through, coming apart with one hard yank. He took a moment to sniff them, the erotic sight making me more aroused before he stuffed the flimsy ball of material in my mouth.
I lifted my head to spit them out, but he was quicker. He shoved my head back down with one hand while the other pulled a strip of tape off Ellen’s dispenser. He placed two over my mouth to hold the panties in, then, with his hands gripping my hips, he pulled me to the edge of the desk and positioned himself at my weeping pussy.
Greediness bloomed inside me. My body throbbed with the anticipation of his cock, and still, I doled out one last attempt to resist, knowing that the longer I fought him off, the more glorious his intrusion would be. My knees pressed tight together, I pushed at his chest with the heels of my feet, my shoes lost earlier in our struggle.
It was a valiant effort, earning me a primal roar that seemed to originate from deep inside Donovan as he pushed my knees apart with his elbows. Then, grabbing my ankles and bending my legs into my chest so that I couldn’t wield them as weapons, he once again notched his cock at my entrance and drove all the way in with one solid thrust.
The foreplay was over. He’d reached his destination, and now the fucking would begin.
Four
As soon as he was inside me, my body exploded in pleasure. The orgasm had built as we’d wrestled, building further when he’d torn my dress, further still when he’d fucked my mouth. Each section of our play escalating my arousal like movements in a triumphant symphony, and now, at the climax, I surrendered to the beauty of the song.
Rainbowed stars sparked in front of my eyes as I convulsed, every part of me lit up with bliss. Was there any higher ecstasy than this? Than being at the receiving end of Donovan’s wicked, hammering brutality? If there was, I didn’t care to know. There was no other kind of love I wanted to encounter than his.
When my vision cleared, I looked up at him in a daze. He was a portrait of stunning vulgarity—a masked man taking whatever he pleased, using my body in whatever way he saw fit. My arms ached from their wrenched position behind my back, the discomfort a satisfactory addition to the lewdity. As he battered into me in steady rhythmic jabs, the sound of our thighs slapped underscoring the erotic scene.
Another climax stirred, slowly. Too slowly.
In frustration, I began to squirm, needing more, needing something. Needing, needing, needing. My hands wriggled against their binding, and with enough twisting and jerking, they got free. I pulled them from behind me, and reached one up for Donovan’s mask, wanting it gone, wanting to see his face contort with his exertion.
As soon as it was in the air, though, he caught it. He seized the other as well and pinned them over m
y head, pressing his body inward to hold my legs down with his chest.
The shift in position opened me up wider and now his pelvis hit against my clit, the friction giving me just what I needed. My orgasm undulated through me in gaping ripples, each wave yawning with ecstasy that made my breath hitch and my skin burn.
“Fuck,” Donovan grunted as I clamped down on his cock. “You tried to not want this, but your cunt has me gripped like it never wants to let me go. Such a filthy, greedy girl, aren’t you?”
His cock twitched inside me, his thrusts slowed. Then he grated out a low rumble, his hips stuttering against my pussy as he emptied himself inside me. Long seconds passed before he’d finished coming. When he was finally done, he collapsed on top of me, his chest heaving in near rhythm with mine.
When he’d caught his breath, he stood and pulled me to a sitting position so he could remove the tape and panties from my mouth. He took off his mask next and then cradled my face in his hands. “How are you?”
“Really, really good.” My body felt limp, but it hummed and tingled in complete satiation.
He studied my features, as if he wasn’t ready to accept my answer until he’d done his own inspection. Satisfied with his findings, he smiled. “Good. Me too.”
He leaned in, his lips skimming against mine once before he took full possession of my mouth, his tongue tasting me in deep, proprietary licks. I opened up completely for him, letting him take my mouth as aggressively as he’d taken my cunt. Wrapping one arm around his neck and another in his sweater, I pulled myself closer, wanting to show my gratitude as explicitly as possible.
It was a pretty thorough make-out session, and my lips were swollen and numb when he reluctantly broke away. “You're making me hard again.”
“Is that a problem?”
“Considering the cleaning crew will be here soon? Yes.”
