"Oh, fuck," Devon groaned, the words spilling out in a guttural rush as his hips slamd forward, his bollocks smacking against Sophie’s ass. He felt her take every inch of his cock. It was so that that there was nothing left between them.
But sothing was off.
Sophie didn’t move. She didn’t moan or cry out. She just... froze.
Devon glanced down at her. Her eyes were wide and unfocused, mouth slack, her whole body trembling. Tears stread silently down her cheeks as she clung to the edge of the desk like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.
Then, like a switch flipped, a raw scream tore from her throat.
"Ahhhhhhhh!"
Her body convulsed violently, her leg stomping against the floor in wild rhythm. She writhed beneath him in a desperate attempt to ground herself, but Devon held her tight, letting her ride the aftershocks of what he’d done to her.
To Sophie, it felt like she was being split open. Not filled, Consud. She had never been filled like this in her entire left. It felt like the tip of him was pressing into the pit of her belly, causing the nerve in her body to scream.
Every inch of her pulsed with a brutal, exquisite pressure. Her walls stretched to their very limit, toes curling, breath caught in her throat as her body struggled to process the overload. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears while she continued to gasp for air.
It felt like an hour had passed, though it had only been minutes since Devon had flipped her over the desk. He pulled back slowly, her slick, tight heat clinging to him as he withdrew. His hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it lazily before slapping it against her ass once, twice, then slamming back inside her in one punishing thrust.
He drove into her hard, over and over, each thrust making her jolt against the desk. But after half a dozen deep, grinding strokes, her body started to loosen. The fierce grip of her cunt began to soften around him, and Sophie’s ragged breaths turned from sharp gasps to sothing deeper, steadier.
Devon felt the change. He adjusted, slowing his pace, sinking into her with long, deliberate strokes that made her shiver beneath him. The rhythm was slower now, but no less intense, every movent designed to make her feel everything.
Sophie pressed her lips together, her body trembling as her eyes rolled back in their sockets. When his hand reached forward to cup her breasts, his fingers teasing her nipples, a shaky moan escaped her. It was soft at first, then louder, slipping past her lips before she could hold it back.
"N-No... P-pleaseee!"
But her pleading only seed to fuel him.
Devon’s thrusts were relentless, hard, fast, and deep. Each one driving her forward against the desk as his hips snapped against her. The sound of his balls slapping her ass filled the room, raw and rhythmic.
His hand slid up her body, fingers trailing over her curves until they closed around one breast. He kneaded it slowly, almost tender at first, then rolled her nipple between his fingers. The motion shifted suddenly, his grip tightened, and he gave it a sharp, deliberate twist.
Sophie cried out, her voice rising in a mix of pain and sothing dangerously close to pleasure.
Devon grinned, leaning in just enough to speak.
"I didn’t realize you liked having your nipples pulled," he said, his tone low and teasing as his thumb toyed with the sensitive bud.
She shook her head almost imdiately, a soft whimper escaping her lips but her body betrayed her, trembling and tense around him.
Then, without warning, Devon stopped. He let go of her waist and stilled his hips, pulling back just enough to see what she would do.
And she did exactly what he hoped.
Sophie began to move, slamming herself back onto him, desperate and driven. Her hips rocked with a rhythm of their own, chasing every inch of him.
Devon let out a short, amused laugh.
"Heh," he chuckled, the sound dark and satisfied, watching her lose herself completely.
As if suddenly waking from a trance, the weight of what she’d just done crashed down on Sophie. Panic flickered across her face. She stumbled a few shaky steps, her breathing quick and uneven with fear taking hold as the reality of the mont set in.
"You can pretend to fight all you want," Devon said, his voice low and certain, "but your body’s already betrayed you."
He moved toward her, slow and steady, like a predator giving his prey ti to realize escape was impossible. For every step he took, she took two back until her spine t the cool surface of the office’s glass wall.
Devon stopped in front of her, close enough that the heat of him seeped into her skin. Sophie’s gaze dropped, she couldn’t et his eyes.
He raised a hand, cupping her cheek with a deceptive gentleness. His fingers drifted downward, trailing along her neck, over her collarbone, then down to her chest. Each movent was deliberate, each touch laced with intent ant to make her feel, to draw her in even as she tried to pull away.
His breath ca hot and shallow against her skin, fanning across her neck as he leaned in. His body pressed against hers, pinning her lightly to the wall in full control.
Sophie’s breath hitched sharply as his lips brushed the tender space just beneath her ear, his closeness sending tremors down her spine.
"You feel that, Sophie?" he whispered, his tone laced with hunger and control.
In response she squeezed her eyes shut. But her body, traitorous and trembling, responded to every touch with a maddening awarenes. Her skin flushed, hypersensitive under his hand, and every nerve felt like it was set alight.
Devon tilted her chin upward with quiet insistence and kissed her, his movent slow, deliberate, like he owned the mont and everything in it. A soft, involuntary whimper escaped her, then she bit his lip hard enough to sting, her eyes blazing as she t his gaze.
She gasped, the words tumbling out in a fractured whisper. "This is wrong. I’m... I’m a married woman."
For Sophie, every second stretched into sothing surreal unreal like her soul had detached from her body and was watching it all happen from above, screaming into a void no one could hear. Her limbs burned from struggling, but she couldn’t stop. She had to keep fighting, even if it was useless, even if he was stronger. Giving in wasn’t an option... but her body wasn’t listening.
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