Chapter 221
Summer’s POV
Brandon’s hands lingered on my face longer than necessary, the damp wipe cool against my flushed skin. His touch, as always, sent a familiar jolt through me, and I hated how easily he could unravel my resolve. I swatted his hand away, glaring at him.
“Enough,” I said, my voice firm despite the heat creeping up my neck I mean it, Brandon. We can’t keep doing this here.”
He leaned back against the sofa, his smirk infuriatingly smug. “Doing what, exactly?”
“You know what,‘ I snapped, smoothing my skirt and standing up. “This-” I gestured vaguely between us, “-whatever this is, it stays out of the office. We agreed.”
4
Brandon’s eyes darkened, and he stood too, closing the distance between us in one fluid step. “You’re the one who climbed on top of me, he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “I was just sitting here, minding my own business.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but the words caught in my throat as he brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers grazing my skin. My breath hitched, and I cursed myself for reacting. He noticed–of course he did–and his smirk widened.
“Brandon,” I warned, stepping back, but he followed, his hands finding my waist again.
“Summer,” he countered, mimicking my tone. “We’re alone. The doors locked. Elle’s gone. What’s the harm?”
“The harm,” I hissed, “is that I can’t go back looking like- I gestured to my disheveled state, “-this!”
“We’ll be quick,” he said, his voice dropping to that dangerous octave again. Before I could protest, he pulled me flush against him, his lips crashing into mine.
I should’ve pushed him away. I meant to push him away. But the second his mouth moved against mine, all rational thought evaporated.
Brandon’s breath came in harsh, ragged gasps as he yanked at my blouse, his fingers clumsy with desperation. He tugged at his own pants at the same time, fumbling with the zipper, his urgency making him sloppy. I tilted my head, catching his wild gaze, and slid my hands to his waist, deftly unbuckling his belt. With a swift tug, I pulled his boxers down, his thick cock springing free–hard, veined, and already glistening at the tip. My pussy throbbed at the sight, wet and ready.
He didn’t waste a second, his hands clamping around my waist, pulling me tight against him. My tits mashed against his chest, the friction sending sparks through me as he lifted me, carrying me to the one–way glass wall. My back hit the cool surface, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, locking them tight, my dripping cunt pressed flush against his pulsing cock. The city stretched out below, but all I could feel was him–hot, hard, and impossibly close.
He shoved my skirt up to my hips, exposing my soaked panties, and yanked them aside with a rough jerk. His cock brushed my slit, teasing my swollen lips, and I squirmed, my juices slicking his shaft as he ground against me. My tits heaved, nipples scraping against my bra, and I arched into him, desperate for more. With a low, guttural sound, he gripped my thighs, lifting me higher, and then he thrust–his fat cockhead forcing its way into my tight pussy, stretching me open.
Fuck!” I gasped, my head slamming back against the glass as he sank in deeper, inch by thiek inch, my cunt clenching around him. My legs tightened, pulling him in, and he started fucking me, holding me up against the wall. His cock plunged into me, wet and relentless, the sloppy sound of my pussy taking him mixing with the slap of his hips against my thighs. My juices dripped down his shaft, soaking us both, and my tits bounced with every brutal thrust the glass trembling behind me.
He shifted, his hands digging into my ass, and fucked me harder, his cock slamming so deep I felt it in my core. My cunt gripped him, slick and greedy, sucking him in as he pounded me, my body plastered to his. The heat of his skin, the stretch of my pussy around his throbbing dick–it was filthy, overwhelming, and I couldnt get enough. My nails raked his shoulders, clawing through his shirt, and I rocked my hips, meeting every thrust, my clit grinding against his pelvis.
1/2
Chapter 221
He pulled out suddenly, setting me down, and spun me around. “Hands on the glass,” he growled, and I obeyed, palms flat against the wall, legs trembling as he kicked them apart. My skirt stayed bunched at my waist, my ass out, pussy dripping and exposed. He grabbed my hips and thrust back in, his cock spearing into me from behind, filling my cunt in one rough stroke. I moaned, loud and shameless, my nails scraping the glass as he fucked me, his hips slapping against my ass, the wet squelch of my pussy echoing in
the room.
My tits swayed, nipples brushing the cool surface, and I arched my back, taking him deeper, my cunt pulsing around his thick shaft. He pounded me harder, his balls slapping my clit with every thrust, and I felt my juices gush, soaking his cock and dripping down my thighs. The city blurred below, but all I could focus on was the relentless stretch of my pussy, the way he owned me with every brutal pump. My legs shook, barely holding me up, and my orgasm hit like a freight train–my cunt spasming, gushing around him as I screamed, my body quaking against the glass.
He didn’t stop, fucking me through it, his cock throbbing as he buried himself deep and came, hot cum flooding my pussy, spilling out and mixing with my wetness. I slumped against the wall, panting my thighs slick and trembling as he pulled out, leaving me dripping and wrecked.
I turned, legs weak, and leaned against the glass, fumbling to fix my clothes with shaky hands. “I need to get back to work,” I muttered, my voice hoarse, my pussy still twitching with aftershocks
“Wait,” Brandon said, his tone shifting as he stepped closer, his eyes scanning me. “You can’t go out like this.” He reached out, gently smoothing my tangled hair, his fingers brushing my flushed cheeks. I caught my reflection in the glass–lipstick smudged, blouse wrinkled, skirt barely covering the mess between my thighs. He grabbed a tissue from his desk, wiping my face with a tenderness that contrasted the raw chaos of moments ago, then adjusted my skirt, tugging it down properly.
I took a shaky breath, trying to steady myself as he straightened his own shirt, his breathing finally slowing. “There,” he said, stepping back to look me over. “Better.” He paused, then added, “I’ll go out with you.”
I nodded, still dazed, and followed him to the door. My heart pounded as we stepped into the hallway, thighs sticky with our mingled cum, praying no one would notice the flush on my face or the slight wobble in my step as we headed for the elevator together.
