Page 38 of I Want You

Suddenly, she feels that their encounters over the past few days have filled neither her soul nor her heart.

Harper stifles a moan as Victoria’s lips leave her jaw and descend to the hollow of her throat. Victoria’s teeth gently bite the sensitive skin of her exposed neck, sending a violent shiver down Harper’s spine. Harper’s hands—which just seconds earlier had been clinging to the edge of the desk to keep from losing her balance—instinctively reach up to the nape of Victoria’s neck, tangling her fingers in Victoria’s hair and pulling her closer to press their mouths even more tightly together.

The kiss is hungry, chaotic, and full of frustration. Victoria takes control of the encounter with her tongue, exploring Harper’s mouth with such force that it takes her breath away. Her body presses Harper’s pelvis against the edge of the desk, setting a slow, heavy rhythm that causes the temperature in the office to soar.

At the end of the hallway, a low sound breaks through the dim silence of the floor. The scraping of the cleaning staff’s bucket echoes against the marble floor, just a few yards away from them.

“Victoria…” Harper whispers against her lips, trying to regain a shred of sanity as she feels her ex-wife’s hands slide up the insides of her thighs. “They’re going to see the light…”

“Let them look if they dare,” Victoria growls, her voice hoarse with arousal, without stopping the movement of her hands.

With a precise, impatient movement, Victoria reveals Harper’s lingerie. Victoria’s palms—warm and slightly rough from the day’s tension—clasp the curve of Harper’s thighs, squeezing them tightly. Harper arches her back, digging her nails into Victoria’s shoulders as Victoria’s lips once again devour hers, silencing a sharp gasp.

Victoria wastes no time. Without breaking eye contact, she continues to undress Harper. The dim light from the lamp casts golden shadows across the woman’s flushed skin; she’s breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling at a frantic pace. Victoria lets out a heavy sigh, surrendering to the sight of the woman who has always belonged to her.

“You’re unbearable. I hate that you turn me on so much,” Victoria murmurs, sliding her mouth along the curve of her cleavage until she captures one of her nipples through the sheer fabric of her bra.

“Who… am I to say anything…”

Harper throws her head back, squeezing her eyelids shut as the office walls seem to spin around her. The friction of the damp lace against her skin draws a moan from her, which she stifles by pressing her forehead against Victoria’s shoulder. She feels the hardness of the desk against her back, Victoria’s commanding weight against her, and the threat that someone might open the door at any moment. The combination of risk, desire, and admiration acts like an intoxicating poison that dissolves every mental barrier.

Harper’s hands slide down to Victoria’s waist; she slips them farther down, and Victoria helps her remove her clothes.

Harper slides her hands upward and caresses Victoria’s back, feeling her muscles tense every time Victoria moves against her. It’s a dance their bodies remember perfectly—a muscle memory that time and resentment haven’t managed to erase.

Victoria pulls away by barely an inch, breathing heavily, her fiery eyes fixed on Harper’s clouded gaze. With a decisive gesture, she hooks a finger into the side of Harper’s lace panties and pulls them aside, exposing her to the cold air of the office. The wetness she finds there draws a dark, satisfied smile from her.

“I thought you wanted to go home,” Victoria teases in a whisper, brushing the tip of her finger against Harper’s pussy, sliding with exasperating slowness over her swollen clitoris.

Harper lets out an involuntary gasp, spreading her legs wider to give her better access.

“Shut up and do it already,” Harper demands.

Victoria doesn’t need to be asked twice. She thrusts two fingers inside her all at once, finding a tight, soaking-wet warmth that welcomes her with an eager throb. Harper stifles a cry, burying her face in Victoria’s neck as Victoria begins to set a firm, deep rhythm, pushing her fingers all the way in and pulling them almost completely out before thrusting into her again with force.

The sound of her wetness mingles with the shadow of the cleaner passing outside the office for a split second. Harper freezes completely, digging her fingers into Victoria’s arms and holding her breath as her heart races.

Victoria, far from stopping, intensifies the movement of her thumb over Harper’s clitoris.

“If you scream, they’ll know you’re here with me,” Victoria whispers in her ear, nibbling on her earlobe with mischievous sensuality. “Be good, Harper. Be a good editor and stay in control.”

Harper stares at her with wide eyes, on the verge of collapse, torn between the terror of being discovered and the overwhelming pleasure coursing through her core. She brings the back of her hand to her mouth and bites her own knuckles as Victoria picks up the pace, combining internal pressure with a furious, relentless circular massage against her clitoris.

Victoria’s thrusts are deep, rhythmic, relentless. Each one causes the wood of the desk to emit a faint creak that is lost amid their restrained moans. Harper feels the walls of her pussy contract around Victoria’s fingers, clenching around every movement with a voracity that leaves her breathless. The shadow in the hallway finally recedes, taking the sound of the cleaning bucket with it, but the adrenaline has already lit the final fuse.

Harper pulls her hand away from her mouth and wraps her arms around Victoria’s neck, pulling her in for a kiss.

“Don’t stop… Victoria, please, don’t stop,” she pleads between gasps, losing all composure, arching her body to meet each thrust.

Victoria responds by increasing her strength and speed. She feels her ex-wife’s inner muscles begin to tremble violently, threatening to trap her in a final spasm.

“Come on, come for me,” Victoria commands in a domineering voice, slowing her rhythm slightly to lock eyes with Harper. “And don’t you dare look away.”

Harper opens her eyes, completely surrendered to the storm of sensations approaching. Victoria’s gaze is fire, stripped of defenses, stripped of the pride that destroyed them in the past. In that moment, in the dim light of the office and atop the cover proofs, there are no old wounds—only two women who recognize themselves in the abyss.

The orgasm hits Harper. Her body tenses into a perfect line before breaking into a series of continuous, violent spasms that grip Victoria’s fingers with crushing force. A sharp, stifled moan escapes her chest, echoing off the office walls as her hips move involuntarily against Victoria’s hand, seeking to squeeze out every last drop of pleasure.

Victoria doesn’t pull her fingers out; she keeps them inside, gently accompanying the waves of contractions, savoring the unstoppable tremor shaking Harper’s legs. When the waves begin to subside, Victoria slowly withdraws her fingers, leaving Harper floating in a state of lethargy and absolute fulfillment.