Page 45 of Wicked Mafia Beast
He moves so fast my back hits the edge of his desk before I register he's closed the distance. One hand fists in my hair, the other grips my hip.
"You want to make this transactional?" His voice is a growl against my ear that vibrates through every bone in my body. "Fine. But don't pretend you're in control."
The low timbre of his voice should infuriate me or at least intimidate me.
I hitch my chin higher. "Prove I'm not."
His hand leaves my hair and drags down my body, over my breast, my ribs, my stomach. Stronger, determined fingers find the button of my jeans. The zipper hisses open, loud in the quiet office, and then his hand slides inside my panties and through the slick heat between my thighs.
We both have our answer.
"Wet." A growl against my throat. "Did you touch yourself in the shower thinking about me?"
My face flames. He laughs, dark and knowing, and crooks his fingers inside me.
I suck in a harsh breath. Our eyes catch. Kon’s scent fills me and the electric tingles draping over my body cause me to shudder. He has my body on constant high alert. The look on his face is one of hunger. His lips are parted but it’s not his mouth that has all my focus. It’s the way his hard shaft pressesagainst my thigh.
"You did." His voice drops to a low, satisfied rumble, the smug certainty spreading across his face in a slow grin that makes me want to slap him and kiss him in equal measure. He crooks his fingers inside me and my knees nearly buckle. "How long did it take for you to come all over your fingers,malyshka?"
My chin lifts, our equal amounts of stubbornness pitting for dominance. "Fuck you."
"Mm. That's the plan." He withdraws his hand and my hips chase his retreating fingers. "But first, tell me what you want."
"You know what I want."
"Say it."
"I want you to fuck me. Right here. And then I want my question answered."
He runs the tips of his fingers over my bare arms until the lengths of my hair are in his hands. "Done."
He spins me around, bends me over the desk. Papers scatter and a pen clatters to the floor. Behind me, the metallic clink of his belt buckle sends a pulse of heat straight between my thighs. The rasp of his zipper follows, slow and deliberate, and the sound is so filthy in the quiet of his office that my fingers curl tighter around the edge of the desk. Cool air hits my skin as he yanks my jeans and panties down to my thighs, trapping my legs together.
"Hold on to the desk."
His palm presses between my shoulder blades, flattening my chest against the cool wood. I grip the far edge and the swollen head of his cock notches against my entrance. One brutal thrust and he's buried to the hilt. I cry out, my inner walls clenching around him in shock and pleasure and the desperate, aching sense that this is exactly where I belong.
He sets a punishing rhythm. Each thrust drives me harder against the wood, my cheek pressed to the desktop, my fingers white-knuckled on the far edge. The desk groans beneath us. More papers slide to the floor.
He grips my hips, fingers digging into yesterday's bruises, and the pain sharpens the pleasure until the two blur together. From this angle he reaches deeper, fuller, dragging against nerves that send sparks behind my eyes.
"Touch yourself." The command comes out harsh, breathless. "I want to feel you come on my cock."
I release one edge of the desk and snake my hand between my body and the wood. My fingers find the swollen bundle of nerves where we're joined, circling once, twice.
The orgasm tears through me so hard my vision whites out. I clench around him and his name rips from my throat, raw and uncontrolled. He follows with a roar, his hips stuttering, the hot rush of his release pulsing inside me. His grip on my hair tightens, then releases as his forehead drops between my shoulder blades.
We stay like that, gasping, the desk creaking under us. Papers scattered across the floor.
"I gave you three shell companies, a shipping route, and a warehouse location." I press my cheek against the cool wood and catch my breath. "I believe that earns me a question."
His chest vibrates against my back with a low laugh. "You're collecting already?"
"A deal's a deal, Beast."
A pause. Then his voice, rough and wrecked against my shoulder blade. "Ask it."
My brain takes a moment to come back online.
