Girl
PREVIEW // TAGS // MY MASTERLIST // TALK TO ME
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Messy kisses are left across her neck, sparing any marks that can’t be covered with a heavy coating of concealer and foundation and the turtleneck that she’s chosen to wear for the day. Teeth nip at his bottom lip, wanton moans echoing around the silent elevator, the ever so slight dings telling the two that the office and, more importantly, the sofa that they were in search of is only minutes away. Hands are heavy against each other’s skin, bruising beneath the knitted sweater dress and the blue and white striped suit that decorated his toned figure, his hair swept back and away from his forehead in the way she likes, gelled to perfection, one strand of hair falling to his forehead that he’s sure she’ll brush away when he’s on top of her in a few minutes time. Comfortable routines, they’ve fallen into, as the CEO and COO of Bode’s London office, making their early morning coffee runs before the assistants have shown up at a bright and early nine, and finding their way to the office at eight, where for an hour, their hands are nearly glued to each other’s bodies and their lips are attached at the seams.
“Fuckin’ insatiable,” Harry moans against her, harshly biting her neck and smirking against her skin when she tugs at the root of his hair as a warning, although Harry never really took to her warnings much. “Miss Taylor, tell me something. What am I going to do with you, sweetheart? Havin’ me fuck you in our offices before our assistants come in with our coffees. Quite the naughty girl I have.”
“Fuck me, Harry,” she says in a whimpered tone, absolutely enthralled by the way his lips are moving on her skin, the way his hands are squeezing her backside and itching to tear at the seam of her tights. “Couldn’t find another pair of tights, this morning. Must’ve run out at your place. Can’t tear these ones. Think I can make it up to you, though.”
“Fuck’s sake,” he says, his hand splaying flat against the wall of the elevator as her fingertips begin to unbuckle his belt, the clanking of the metal making her thighs clench together as she remembers the night the belt hit deliciously against her ass, bruising her and making it difficult to sit for nearly two days. “Are you really going to drop to your knees fo’ me in the middle of the fucking elevator?”
