Remember...this pushes M.
Once again, Isobel found herself being taken in a place she'd never been taken before…bent over a desk.
Richard's desk to be more precise.
She wasn't sure how they'd wound up here this time.
She hadn't been ruffling any feathers today…had she?
Moaning when she felt his hands pushing up her skirt, she shivered when her knickers fell to the floor and her skin was exposed. Gripping the edge, she held her breath, waiting to see what happened next.
Richard stood looking down at the rounded buttocks he'd just exposed, at the shapely legs that were trembling with the tension of anticipation of what his next move might be. Caressing a hand over her derriere, he let it trail down her thigh over a shapely calf before moving back up again and gently nudging until she responded by shifting her legs further apart. Moving closer again, his hand continued its journey even as his free hand moved over her ribs and around to cup her breast, kneading the fullness of it, fingers tweaking the taut nipple through the material of her blouse and brassiere.
Isobel's fingers tightened on the edge of the desk even as she gasped. Richard's fingers were busy moving in and out of her wet flesh, working her arousal higher until he withdrew just before she tipped over the edge of release. She growled then gasped when suddenly he was inside her, stretching and filling her in one smooth thrust.
Richard gripped her hips, his thrusts more controlled and rhythmic than they had been that first time two weeks ago. He wasn't as angry with Isobel today as he had been then and…with her bent over his desk as she was, he had more room to move and more leverage for his movements. His fingers dug into her flesh, knowing that these bruises would replace the ones he'd left before. Moving a hand to her shoulder, he leaned close, whispering, "Do you stare at the bruises and remember?"
His breath was hot against her ear and Isobel whimpered as she tried to focus enough on his question to be able to answer. "Ooh…yes," she finally managed. "Yes."
"Do you touch yourself thinking of us like this?" he asked as he changed the rhythm of his thrusts.
"Yes," she gasped on a particularly deep thrust.
"Then touch yourself," he told her.
Isobel felt her arousal spike up at the sound of the command in his voice. It was the forcefulness he'd used as a major during the war. The nights she'd pleasured herself after hearing him…she moaned at the memory. Slipping her hand down, she touched herself as he'd told her to, humming then moaning when she heard him growl in response.
Pulling from her, Richard moved so that he could see her slender fingers as they moved over the sensitive flesh he'd just been stretching and moving against. The sight made him impossibly harder and he growled low before thrusting back inside her, all control over rhythm gone. His thrusts were wild and erratic, his hands gripping her hips once more as he chased his release, the feel of Isobel's inner muscles gripping at him letting him know that she was just as close to her climax.
Isobel cried out as she came, whimpering at the feel of Richard thrusting hard and deep then jerking against her as his release filled her and left them both limp and collapsed against the hard wood surface of the desk. Arching her back a bit, she let him know that he had grown too heavy for her to tolerate anymore.
"Sorry." Richard muttered as he stood up. Taking several deep breaths as he stood with his hands on his hips and his head tilted back, he let his eyes drift closed as he repeated the deep breaths until his heartbeat was back to its normal pattern. Opening his eyes, he turned and made his way to the sink, tidying himself as he went. "Well this was productive," he muttered to himself.
"What was that?" Isobel asked as she came up beside him, doing a bit of tidying herself.
"Nothing," he answered before moving away from the sink, letting the water run so that she could use it to wash her own hands.
Rolling her eyes as she lathered soap on her hands, Isobel looked at him in the mirror. "What did I do this time?"
"Isobel, let's just let it drop. We got carried away again. It was nothing more than that."
"Nothing more than that? Richard, you practically attacked me the minute you came into the office."
"I didn't attack you," he huffed. "If you think as much, I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry for what we just did."
"I am. We need to stop this. The staff has just stopped looking at us oddly in the last few days…now they'll be whispering and staring again."
"I'm not the one instigating this," she reminded him as she turned and glared at him, resisting the urge to throw the towel she'd been drying her hands on.
"I know, and again, I'm sorry if you feel as though I attacked you. A lady such as yourself shouldn't be taken up against a wall or bent over a desk."
"Did you hear me complaining? The whole of the staff probably heard me doing anything but complaining," she huffed.
Richard's gaze burned as he stared down her. No, she hadn't been complaining, she'd definitely been doing everything but that. "That still doesn't mean we should continue this. I'll have to control myself."
"I wish you wouldn't," she mumbled.
Richard heard her but chose to act as though he hadn't. Once again he found himself thinking…what a damned fine mess.