A Night Of Pleasure

Damian’s eyes bore into mine, dark with hunger, as he stepped closer. His shirt hung open, revealing the toned, chiseled torso beneath, and my breath hitched as he slid the fabric off his shoulders.

He didn’t wait. With a swift motion, he unzipped his pants, freeing himself. My lips parted at the sight of him—thick, hard, dick throbbing with need. My body reacted instantly, a fresh wave of desire surging through me, making me ache for him in ways I didn’t know were possible.

“Do you want this, Secretary Williams?” he asked, his voice a low growl. “Because once I start, there’s no turning back.”

“Yes,” I breathed, my voice trembling with anticipation. “I want you, Mr. Xavier.”

That was all he needed. His hands gripped my thighs, pulling me to the edge of the desk as he positioned himself between my legs. The heat of him pressed against my slick folds, teasing me, making me moan in frustration.

“Beg for it,” he demanded, his eyes locked onto mine. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Please,” I whispered, the word barely audible.

“Louder,” he commanded, his lips curving into a wicked smile.

“Please, Mr. Xavier,” I said, my voice quivering with need. “Take me. I need you.”

His control snapped. In one swift thrust, he buried himself deep inside me, stretching me in ways that made me cry out in a mix of pleasure and pain. My hands flew to his shoulders, clutching him tightly as he set a relentless rhythm, each thrust sending shockwaves of ecstasy through my body.

“You feel incredible,” he groaned, his hands gripping my hips as he drove into me harder, deeper. “So tight. So perfect.”

I couldn’t form words; I could only gasp and moan as he took me higher, his pace unyielding, his movements precise and demanding. The desk creaked beneath us, the sound mingling with our labored breaths and the wet, sinful noises of our joining.

“Look at me,” he growled, his hand tilting my chin up so our eyes met. “I want to see your face when you come for me.”

The intensity in his gaze pushed me closer to the edge, the coil in my core tightening with each thrust. His name spilled from my lips like a mantra, my nails digging into his back as the pleasure became almost unbearable.

“Mr. Xavier... I’m—”

“Come for me, Anna,” he commanded, his voice rough and urgent. “Now.”

His words were my undoing. My body shattered around him, waves of pleasure crashing over me as I cried out his name. My walls clenched tightly around him, drawing a guttural moan from his lips as he continued to move, chasing his own release.

With one final, powerful thrust, he joined me, his body tensing as he spilled into me, his groan low and primal. He held me there, pressed against him, our bodies trembling as we came down from the high together.

Damian pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against mine as we both struggled to catch our breath. The air between us was thick, charged with the electricity of what we’d just done.

“Tell me you regret it,” he murmured, his lips brushing against mine. “Lie to me if you can.”

But I couldn’t. All I could do was shake my head, my hands still clutching his shoulders.

“Good,” he said, a sly smile curving his lips. “Because I’m not finished with you yet.”

Damian didn’t pull away. His fingers lingered on my skin, a tantalizing heat that seemed to brand me. The air between us was charged, heavy with the weight of desire, as his lips hovered close to my ear, his breath warm and ragged.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver racing down my spine. “And I haven’t even started yet.”

I was trembling, every nerve in my body alive under his touch, my chest heaving as he drew back just enough to lift me from the desk. His movements were smooth and commanding, his arms strong as he carried me effortlessly across the room.

“Where are you taking me?” I whispered, though I wasn’t sure I even cared.

“To a place where I can make you forget everything except me,” he said, his dark eyes glinting with wicked intent.

He placed me gently on the sleek leather couch, the city skyline behind us a glittering sea of lights. But my focus was entirely on him—on the way his shirt hung open, on the ripple of muscle beneath his skin as he leaned down, and on the way his lips curved into that sinful smirk I couldn’t resist.

“Don’t move,” he ordered, his tone brooking no argument.

I obeyed, my pulse pounding as I watched him shrug off the rest of his clothes, every inch of his body a masterpiece of power and control. He was breathtaking, and the way he looked at me—as if I were the only thing he’d ever desired—made me feel utterly powerless.

“You’re stunning,” he said, his voice almost reverent as his eyes traveled over me. His hands followed, sliding up my thighs, over the curve of my hips, until he gripped my waist and pulled me closer. “But you look even better undone.”

The hunger in his gaze made my breath hitch as he spread my legs, his fingers trailing fire along my bare skin. He lowered his head, his lips brushing soft, open-mouthed kisses along my inner thigh, making me squirm beneath him.

“Mr. Xavier,” I moaned, my fingers tangling in his hair as his lips moved higher, teasing, tormenting.

His breath was hot against me, his voice a husky growl. “Do you want me, Secretary Williams?”

“Yes,” I gasped, my voice trembling with need.

“Then say it,” he demanded, his fingers pressing into my thighs, holding me still as his lips hovered over the place I ached for him most. “Beg for it.”

I hesitated, my pride warring with the desperation coursing through me. But when his tongue flicked against me, light and teasing, my restraint crumbled.

“Please,” I whispered, barely audible.

“Not good enough.” His smirk was devilish as his hands tightened on me. “I need to hear you.”

“Please,” I repeated, louder this time, my voice thick with need. “Please, Mr. Xavier. I want you.”

His satisfaction was palpable as he took me fully, his mouth and tongue moving with a skill that left me breathless. The intensity of his touch was overwhelming, each stroke pushing me closer to the edge, my cries filling the room as my body arched against him.

“You taste like honey,” he growled, his voice muffled against me, his grip firm as he held me in place.

The tension inside me built rapidly, spiraling higher and higher until I couldn’t hold back any longer. My release hit me like a tidal wave, my body convulsing under his touch as I cried out his name, my hands clutching at him like he was the only thing keeping me grounded.

But he didn’t stop.

Before I could recover, he was on me again, his body pressing mine into the couch as he entered me with a slow, deliberate thrust. I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulders as he filled me completely, his lips capturing mine in a searing kiss.

“Let’s see how many times I can make you scream tonight,” he murmured against my lips, his voice a mix of promise and threat.

He began to move, his rhythm slow and torturous, each thrust deeper and more deliberate than the last. My body responded instinctively, meeting him stroke for stroke, the intensity of our connection stealing the air from my lungs.

“Look at me,” he growled, his hand tilting my chin up. “I want to see you fall apart for me.”

My gaze locked with his, the intensity in his dark eyes unraveling me completely. Every thrust, every touch, every whispered command pushed me further into the abyss of pleasure, until I wasn’t sure where he ended and I began.

When the tension inside me finally snapped, I came apart in his arms, my cries echoing through the room as I clung to him. He followed seconds later, his groan low and guttural as he spilled into me, his body trembling against mine.

We stayed like that for a moment, tangled together, our breathing ragged as the aftershocks of our passion coursed through us.

“Tell me you don’t want more,” he whispered, his lips brushing against my temple. “Lie to me if you dare.”

I couldn’t. My body still hummed with the memory of his touch, and the way he looked at me—like I was his entire world—made it impossible to deny him.

Instead, I pulled him closer, my lips grazing his as I whispered, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

His smile was dangerous, his fingers tracing lazy circles on my skin. “Good. Because the night is far from over.”