On the Desk Behind Paper-Thin Walls

Maeve dropped onto Arnett’s lap like she owned the chair. The thick ridge of his cock hit the crotch of her panties so hard her breath caught behind her teeth. Two feet of cheap wood and a paper-thin wall away, Kevin and Clooney were already rumbling about the night’s take.

She settled her weight. Wriggled once, deliberately, right along the hard line of him.

“Well,” she whispered. “Somebody’s pleased to see me.”

“Maeve.” One word, low, a warning with no bite in it. His hand slid up under the hem of her dress and found her hip.

“They’re right there, you know.” She tipped her head at the door and kept her voice sugar-soft, barely a breath. “Kevin. Clooney. Your very serious men. Talking about your very serious money. And you’ve got a hard-on I could hang a coat on.”

His fingers dug in. She rolled her hips in a slow circle and felt the head of him drag across the damp cotton, felt his thighs go rigid under her. Through the wall Clooney laughed at something. Kevin asked if the boss wanted the numbers now.

“What do you think they’d say,” she breathed, “if I told them why the numbers are late? That the boss is busy leaking through his trousers because a girl sat down?”

“You want to find out?”

“I think you’re too hard to stand up and stop me.” She ground down, harder, and let out the smallest hum, right at the edge of audible. “Kevin? Kev, he wants you to—”

His palm clamped over her mouth. Not gentle. His other arm reached past her hip, and the deadbolt on the office door slid home with a click she felt in her teeth. Then his mouth was at her ear, and the iron in his voice had turned into something warmer and dirtier.

“There she is. Mouth like that, you knew I’d have to shut it.” His free hand went back under her dress and pulled her down and forward in a slow, cocky circle that dragged the wet fabric of her panties over the crown of his cock. “You feel how hard you made me, Doll? You’re soaking through your clothes on my lap with my men outside like you came in here to get used.”

She bit at his fingers. He laughed against her neck, silent, all breath.

“Shh. Sit on it. Just like that.” A second circle. A third. Her clit caught on the ridge of him through two layers and her hips stuttered. Outside, Kevin said something about the second-floor drop, and the fact that she could hear every syllable made her clench so hard it must have shown, because Arnett’s chest went still under her braced hands. “Fuck. Listen to you. Even your body knows how to take me quiet. Such a good girl.”

He lifted his hand from her mouth an inch. A test.

“Hardly,” she whispered. “I’m about to get your men fired for standing around while you do this.”

“Keep talking and I’ll throw you across that desk right now.”

“Promises.” She rocked, dragging her slit along the trapped length of him from base to head and back. “Come on, boss. Grind me on it. Show me how you handle a problem.”

His palm came down again, harder this time, sealing her lips. She grinned against it.

He didn’t let her hurry. He kept her seated, kept her rolling, one hand on her mouth and one steering her hip in tight, dragging figure-eights that pressed the head of his cock against her over and over without ever letting her get the angle she wanted. Sweat prickled at her hairline. The wet drag of cotton on wool was obscene in the quiet, a small, damp sound she was sure would carry.

“That’s it. Look at you. Using my cock through two layers of clothes like you can’t wait to get it bare.” His voice never rose above a murmur. “You take it so well, Maeve. Always have. Greedy little thing.”

A gasp slipped out of her, too loud even smothered, and his fingers pressed until her lips mashed against her teeth. Outside, a knuckle rapped once on the door.

“Boss?” Kevin, bored, close enough to touch. “You want us to wait?”

Arnett’s hips lifted under her, a tiny, brutal hitch of an inch that shoved the crown of him straight against her clit. Her eyes rolled. He didn’t miss a beat.

“Wait,” he called, voice flat as a slab, and dropped it right back to her throat. “Stay. Don’t you dare get off this lap. Feel that? You fit against me like you were cut for it. Keep grinding. Show me how bad you need it.”

She did. She rode the length of him through the fabric in frantic little strokes, thighs working, the slick friction building heat in a tight band low in her belly. His praise didn’t stop coming, each line pitched to slide under the door and die there.

“God, the way you move. You’re dripping down my trousers, Doll. This dress can’t hide a thing. Harder. Use me. That’s it.”

The teasing snapped. His hand left her mouth and both went to her hem, shoving the dress up to her waist in one hard rake. Cool office air hit the backs of her thighs, and suddenly the soaked cotton was the only thing left between them.

“Up,” he breathed. “All the way. Quiet.”

She planted her heels in the carpet on either side of the chair, gripped the arms, and pushed herself up off his thighs until she was crouched over him, bare-legged, dress rucked at her waist, nothing touching him but the heat coming off her. His fingers hooked into her panties and dragged them aside, the gusset peeling off her with a wet sound that made her face burn. Then he made a low noise like he’d changed his mind, hooked both hands in the elastic, and stripped them down her thighs instead.

“Step.”

She lifted one foot, then the other, thighs shaking with the effort of staying quiet and upright, and the sodden scrap came free of her ankle and vanished into his fist. He tucked it into his shirt pocket like a handkerchief. Then his belt buckle clinked and he flattened his palm over it instantly, killing the sound, working the leather free one-handed. The zipper went down tooth by tooth, a slow rasp she felt more than heard. He lifted his hips, shoved trousers and underwear down in one hard drag, heeled his shoes off, and kicked the whole tangle under the chair. Bare from the waist down, sock-footed, cock standing up thick and dark against his shirttails. The sight of it alone made her cunt clench on nothing.

He fisted himself and reached up to drag the head through her folds. Slow. Slippery. She was so wet it slid without catching, the crown nudging her clit once, twice, before he notched it against her entrance and held it there.

“Sit,” he whispered. “Take it.”

His hand came back over her mouth just in time. She lowered herself and the stretch started at once, the fat head splitting her open with a burn that made her breath go ragged against his fingers. He didn’t pull her. He let her do it, an inch, another, her knees folding back onto the leather either side of his hips as her weight carried her down onto him, every muscle between her hips fighting and giving and fighting again. Kevin’s voice droned through the wall about the cage count. She sank another inch, felt herself open around the widest part of him, felt the full, packed heat of it climbing up inside her until her thighs met his and there was nowhere left to go.

A broken sound escaped her. He swallowed it with his palm.

“Fuck. Yes. Look at that. Look how your cunt just opens for me.” His voice had gone rough at the edges for the first time. “Every inch, first try. You feel that? You’re stuffed full and you haven’t made a sound they could hear. So fucking tight, Doll. Ride.”

She rode. Short strokes, because the chair creaked on anything longer and the wall was too thin to survive a real bounce. Two inches up, two inches down, and every one of them dragged the head of his cock across a spot inside her that made her jaw go slack against his hand. It was torture. She wanted to slam down on him, wanted the full length driving in and out of her, and instead she had to keep it small, keep it tight, keep her hips working in these clipped little drops that left her constantly, hideously full.

Her nails found the forearm braced across her face and sank in. Sweat ran down her spine and glued the dress to her back. Her thighs burned from holding her weight off him, from controlling every descent, and the burn only made it worse, made her cunt grip him harder on every upstroke. She could hear herself. The slick, sucking sound of her body taking him and letting him go, over and over, ridiculous and loud in the still office.

“That’s my girl. That’s it. You’re staying so quiet for me. I can feel how bad you want to bounce and you’re holding it. Look at those hips.” His hand guided her hip, kept her strokes short, fingertips pressing a bruise into the hollow of her pelvis. “So wet I can hear you. Every time you come down you squeeze me like you’re scared I’ll leave. You won’t let me. Good.”

Outside, Clooney muttered something about the count being off. Then nothing.

The silence hit her like a hand. Maeve froze mid-stroke, halfway up his cock, thighs quivering, the head of him lodged right against that spot with no way to move. Her pulse hammered in her throat. Every muscle inside her clamped down on him in a long, involuntary pull she couldn’t stop, and she felt Arnett’s breath stall against her ear, felt his fingers go tight on her hip. Nobody spoke. The floorboards outside didn’t creak. She hung there with her mouth crushed under his palm, dripping down him, cunt fluttering around a cock she wasn’t allowed to move on, and counted her own heartbeats.

Clooney said, “Run it again,” and Kevin sighed, and the conversation started back up.

Maeve dropped. The stroke tore a whimper out of her that his palm barely caught.

“Fuck,” he breathed, and there was a grin in it, she could hear it. “You held still for me with my cock halfway out of you. Didn’t breathe. Didn’t make a sound. You have any idea how good you looked just then? Frozen on it, shaking, still gripping me.” His hips rocked up into her once. “That’s not a girl who came in here to talk. That’s a girl who came in here to get ruined quiet.”

She rode faster, as fast as the chair would allow, and the heat in her belly started to draw down and sharpen. Her clit dragged over the root of him on every drop. Her thighs shook. She was close, close enough that her breath was going high and thin against his fingers, and then his hand left her mouth and joined the other on her hips, and both locked down and stopped her mid-drop.

She whined, and had to bite her own lip bloody to keep it small. He held her there, half seated, and the deliberate way his fingers pressed into her told her everything she needed to know about what he was doing.

“Not yet.” The words were hot against her jaw. “Don’t you dare. I want you desperate first. I want this cunt so needy you’ll take anything I give you. You’re doing so well. Taking me so quiet.”

His palm came back over her mouth and he let her move again. Slower. Every time her thighs started to tremble, every time her breath went ragged, he stopped her, and every stop left her hanging, full and denied, her body clenching on him in short, useless pulls that he rode out without moving.

She was going to scream. She was going to come and they were going to hear it through the wall and she didn’t care. She could feel it in the way he tensed under her that he’d read the same thing.

He moved before she could. His arm banded around her waist and hauled her up off his cock in one wet, brutal drag that left her empty and gasping, and then he was on his feet with her, bare legs planted, steady as a wall. The desk was right there behind her. One step and her back hit it. Papers scattered. A glass pen cup tipped and rolled and hit the carpet. Her spine met the wood with a thud the lieutenants had to have heard, and Arnett didn’t give her a breath to care about it. He yanked her hips to the edge, shoved her knee wide and up, and drove back into her to the root in one stroke that punched the air out of her lungs. His hand slapped over her mouth a half-second later and stayed there. He fucked her in the same clipped strokes, cock dragging through her in short, punishing snaps that made her eyes lose focus on the ceiling.

“Stay quiet,” he growled, and then the praise poured back in, low and relentless. “That’s it. That’s my perfect girl. Look at you, spread flat on my desk with your dress around your waist, taking every inch. You’re so tight like this. So hot. I can feel your heart in your cunt, Doll.” A snap of his hips that made her heel kick against the desk edge. “You take me better than anyone ever has. Made to get used like this. Made to get pushed until you break. Don’t come. Not yet.”

Every time her thighs started to shake, every time the first hard clench started to gather inside her, he pulled back to shallow grinding, the head of him rubbing that swollen place without giving her the depth she needed. Her cunt fluttered around him and got nothing to close on. The onset kept getting cut off at the root, a spasm that started and died and started again. Her moans leaked out around his fingers, high and thin.

The door handle turned. The deadbolt caught it with a hard metal clack.

“Boss, we can come back—” Kevin’s voice, closer now, right against the wood.

“Stay the fuck outside,” Arnett snapped at the door, and dropped his mouth to her ear without breaking rhythm. “You hear that? He put his hand on the handle while I’m inside you. You just clamped down on me so hard I nearly lost it. You’re doing so well. The way you squeeze me. The way you drip down my balls. Just a little more. Let me feel you beg.”

She begged. Into his palm, wordless, her hips lifting off the desk to chase him and getting pinned back down under his weight. Sweat glued the dress to her shoulders against the wood. Her cunt clenched around him in helpless pulses he kept denying, kept dragging her back from with a slowing of his hips or a shift in the angle, until the denial itself was a physical ache, a swollen throb she could feel in her teeth.

“Not yet. Look at you. You’re so close you can’t keep your legs still. Stay. Stay right there for me.”

When he finally let her have it, it was violent. He slammed home to the root, ground his pelvis hard against her clit, and growled, “Now. Come on it. Show me how perfectly you take me,” and Maeve detonated.

It ripped through her messy and uncontrollable, a gush of wet heat flooding around his cock and running down the crease of her ass onto his desk. Her whole body locked. Her back arched off the wood, her thighs clamped around his hips, her cunt seized on him so hard he grunted. He hooked an arm under her spine and hauled her up to sit on the edge of the desk, standing between her spread thighs, still buried, and crushed her face into the side of his throat just as the scream tore out of her.

She bit him. She had to. Her teeth closed on the cord of his neck and the sound went into his skin instead of the wall. The orgasm kept rolling, aftershocks wracking her in brutal waves, thighs jerking against his hips, cunt spasming around him in rhythmic clenches she couldn’t slow, each one dragging another muffled cry out of her against his throat. He held the back of her head and kept whispering.

“That’s it. That’s my girl. Let it out. You’re taking it so well. Look at you shaking on me. Fuck, Maeve. I can feel every one of those. Bite harder if you have to. I’ve got you.”

She came down in pieces, still seated on him, still pulsing, aftershocks rolling through her in slower and slower jolts. The desk was a ruin under her. Wet. Papers everywhere. His shirt collar was damp with her breath and there was a red crescent blooming where her teeth had been, and the corner of her panties was still poking out of his pocket like a joke only the two of them were in on. He didn’t pull out. He stayed pressed into her, bare thighs against the backs of hers, one hand fisted in her hair, the other flat on the small of her back to keep her from tipping.

“Breathe,” he murmured. “You did so well. Took every second of that with my men on the other side of the door and they don’t know a thing.”

Outside, someone cleared their throat.

Maeve’s laugh came out cracked against his neck. She lifted her head, licked the bite mark once, and found his eyes.

“They know,” she whispered.

His mouth twitched. “Not a word, Doll.”

She turned her face toward the door and raised her voice, hoarse and clear enough to carry through cheap wood. “Give him a minute, Kev. He’s still counting.”

Arnett’s hand slapped back over her mouth a full second too late. She grinned against his palm and clenched around him once more, just to watch his jaw go tight.