Staying In

Athena buries her face deeper into the sheets. Her co-worker pokes her again. “Get up,” he says. She sighs, rolls onto her back, looks up at him. Stirling Cooper stands there shirt half buttoned, tie loose. Heat rolls off him. She catches his wrist and pulls him down. “I’ll get up,” she whispers, “if you give me what I want first.” His weight hits the mattress hard. Fabric tears open between her thighs. His fingers push her lace aside, find her already wet. She lifts her hips to meet him, breath hissing through her teeth. He spits on his hand, strokes himself once, twice, then drives straight in—no warning, no patience. The headboard slams the wall. She hooks one leg over his shoulder and grinds up to take every inch. Sweat already slicks their skin. The bed creaks like it might split. He grabs her wrists, pins them above her head, and fucks her like the morning can wait. Her moans turn sharp. He answers with deeper strokes, cock throbbing inside her, balls slapping against her ass. She clenches around him, pulse racing, edging him on. He snarls, slams harder, comes hard enough to make the mattress quake, and fills her until it leaks down her thigh. Then he pulls out, leaves her wrecked and grinning. She stretches, finally ready for the day.