"Working" from Home...

Autumn was running late, and it was unraveling her.

"Binder... binder... where the hell did I put--" she muttered, tossing throw pillows across the room like they were personally responsible for her disorganization. "Laptop, charger, heels--God, why can I never find anything when I need it?"

The room was chaos. Papers scattered across the desk. Her blazer flung over the back of a chair. Her work phone buzzed somewhere beneath a pile of laundry. She moved quickly, but her focus kept short-circuiting. Mostly because of the man sitting shirtless on the bed. Ryan was leaning back on his hands, legs slightly apart, boxers barely clinging to his hips. His abs were tight, cut deep, and completely on display. A line of tattoos curved across one shoulder, dipped below his collarbone, trailed down his forearm. He was watching her. Quiet. Intense. Predatory. And she was trying to ignore him. Failing. Miserably.

"I don't have time for this," she said aloud--mostly for herself. "Meeting's at nine, I still need to prep the pitch deck, Jenna's waiting on that doc sign-off--"

"Uh huh," Ryan murmured, not moving. "Keep going."

She turned just in time to catch the smirk tugging at his lips. Her stomach fluttered.

"I'm serious."

"So am I." He stood.

Her breath hitched. He walked up behind her slowly, deliberately, until she could feel the heat of his bare chest radiating against her back. Then, with one hand, he moved her hair aside. The other came to rest low on her hip. She tensed.

"Ryan--"

His lips brushed the shell of her ear. "You look so goddamn hot when you're frantic," he whispered, his voice a gravel-thick rumble. "All flushed and wild. Rushing around like that, in this tight little skirt..."

His hand slid lower. "Got me hard the second you started cursing at your heels."

She stiffened. "I don't have time for this," she tried again, weaker this time.

He pressed closer, lips dragging down the side of her neck, teeth grazing gently just under her ear.

"I bet if I bent you over this desk right now, you'd be dripping for me before I even touched your pussy."

She exhaled sharply. "Ryan."

"You love when I don't give you time. When I don't give you a choice. When I fuck all the stress right out of you until you can't think of anything but how deep I am."

Her whole body shivered.

Still, she forced herself to say, "I have ten minutes."

His hand slid up her inner thigh, fingers dragging under the hem of her skirt. "You'll come in five."

He spun her around and kissed her hard, backing her up until the desk hit the backs of her thighs. She moaned into his mouth, helpless as he tugged her panties down and lifted her onto the edge. Her knees spread without her permission. He dropped his boxers to the floor and lined himself up, already hard and thick, the head of his cock nudging at her soaked entrance.

"Fuck--look at you," he muttered, dragging himself along her slit. "This wet already? For me?"

"I swear," she gasped, "you are so--"

He thrust into her. All thought vanished. He filled her in one hard stroke, no warning, no teasing--just pure, unrelenting heat. She arched back with a cry, hands scrabbling for purchase on the edge of the desk.

"Oh my God--"

Ryan grinned, hips snapping forward again, slamming into her so deep her thighs clenched around his waist.

"Not God," he growled. "Just your boyfriend."

His mouth was on hers again, devouring every sound she made as he fucked her with punishing rhythm. His hand slipped between them, thumb rubbing circles over her clit, fast and filthy.

"You gonna come for me already?" he whispered against her lips. "So soon? Huh? My pretty girl too stressed to think straight, begging for cock before she's even had coffee?"

She was shaking, gasping, nails digging into his back.

"Please, Ryan--don't stop--don't stop--"

"Say it."

"Say what?" she whimpered.

"Say you're not going anywhere."

"I'm not--I'm not--I'll stay--I'll work from home, just please--"

"Good girl."

And she shattered--body clenching tight around him, legs trembling, mouth open in a silent scream as her orgasm slammed into her. He groaned, buried deep inside her, and came hard, spilling into her with a force that left them both gasping. Silence followed. Just the sound of their breathing. Her heart pounding. His hands still possessive on her hips. Finally, Ryan pulled back just enough to look down between them--her pussy wrecked, dripping with him.

He let out a low, satisfied sound.

"You're not going anywhere today."

Autumn let her head fall forward onto his shoulder, half-laughing, half-collapsing.

"Yeah," she muttered, dazed. "I'm... not getting anything done, am I?"

Ryan grinned, cocky and unrepentant, and kissed her neck again.

"Nope. But I am."

9:13 AM

Autumn was still sprawled across the desk. Her blouse was open, bra tugged down, nipples tight from the air and the feel of his tongue on them just minutes earlier. Her skirt was wrinkled, bunched around her waist. Her panties were on the floor, soaked and forgotten. Ryan stood between her legs, shirtless, boxers gone, his cock slick with their combined mess, dragging lazy circles against her overstimulated folds.

"You were gonna work," he murmured, voice low, cocky, tender in the most corrupting way. "You were gonna get up, button your little blazer, sip your coffee and pretend you weren't aching for this."

She whimpered as he pushed just the tip in--slow, teasing, unforgiving.

"And now look at you," he growled, sinking deeper with each word, watching her fall apart. "Ruined. Fucked open. Leaking all over my cock and still pretending you've got somewhere else to be."

Her legs wrapped around his waist before she could think. She was trembling already, nerves on fire from the first orgasm still lingering in her spine, and now he was fucking her again--deep and slow, just to hear her pant and break.

"Please," she gasped.

He leaned in, nose brushing her ear, hands tightening on her thighs.

"Please what, baby?"

"Don't stop. God, Ryan, don't--don't stop--"

10:21 AM

They didn't make it to the bed. She was bent over the kitchen counter now, her hair wrapped tight in his fist, her cheek pressed to the cold marble while he drove into her from behind, cock pistoning so deep her knees kept buckling.

"You're shaking," he said, dragging his other hand over her ribs, down her stomach, between her thighs. "You're fucking soaked."

He slid his fingers through the slick mess between her legs and shoved them into her mouth.

"Suck."

She moaned around them, desperate, helpless, ruined.

"Good girl."

He pulled them free and slapped her clit once, hard enough to make her cry out.

"You think about this during meetings?" he whispered, leaning over her, his voice breaking her down completely. "You think about this cock buried in your cunt while you're nodding on a Zoom call, pretending to listen?"

"Y-yes," she choked, hips jerking back into him.

"You should. You're never the same after I fuck you like this. You walk different. Talk different. Brain still leaking like your pussy is."

He pulled out just long enough to spread her open with both hands and watch his cum drip from her onto the tile. She whimpered. Then he slammed back in so hard her legs gave out. And he didn't stop.

11:38 AM

She was on her knees now--bare, slick, desperate--between his thighs, mouth open as he slid his cock over her tongue.

"Look at you," he groaned, one hand cradling the back of her head. "So fucking pretty with your lips stretched around me."

She moaned, tongue swirling around the tip, eyes glassy, spit running down her chin. He didn't let her be soft. He started fucking her mouth, slow at first, then deeper, watching tears gather in the corners of her eyes.

"Doing so good, baby," he whispered. "You take me so well. That mouth was made to be mine."

She choked when he held her down on the base, nose buried in his skin. Her throat flexed. He groaned. He pulled her off with a wet pop, a long strand of saliva connecting her mouth to the tip of his cock.

"On the couch," he said. "Now."

12:03 PM

She was bouncing on him, completely bare now, facing him, thighs shaking. His hands were on her hips, holding her down hard every time she tried to lift off him.

"You're not going anywhere."

"I c-can't--too much--"

"Too bad."

Her head dropped to his shoulder, her whole body tight, her orgasm building sharp and unstoppable. His mouth was on her neck, his teeth at her shoulder, his cock thick and deep and hitting every single place inside her that made her want to scream.

"You're gonna come on my cock again," he growled. "And again. And again."

And she did. She sobbed his name as her whole body convulsed, her walls clenching around him, and that was all it took--he cursed, snapped his hips up, and came hard inside her again, holding her down on every pulse. Neither of them moved for minutes.

1:30 PM

She was finally in bed. Trying to work. Laptop open. Fingers on the keys. A sentence half-typed. Then Ryan's mouth slid between her thighs. And her fingers never made it to enter.

"Ryan," she moaned, hips lifting.

"Shh. Keep working."

But she wasn't. Not when his tongue was dragging slow, relentless circles over her clit, his hands holding her thighs wide apart like she might run.

"Let me ruin your focus," he whispered. "Let me own it."

He didn't stop until she came in his mouth, thighs clamped around his head, fingers tangled in his hair, laptop forgotten and screen gone black.

3:00 PM

She was on her stomach, utterly wrecked, covered in love bites and fingerprints, one thigh draped lazily over his. He was drawing lazy circles on the small of her back with his fingers, his voice low and satisfied.

"You didn't answer a single email."

"I can't read," she mumbled.

"Perfect." He pulled her closer.

"You've got one job today. Lie still. Let me keep you open and dripping till bedtime."

She didn't argue. Didn't even pretend to protest. She just sighed and whispered:

"Please."

********

The bedroom was still. Ryan was asleep--finally. His arm lay sprawled across the bed, the sheet barely covering his hips, his chest rising and falling in a deep, satisfied rhythm. Autumn stood quietly at the edge of the mattress, eyes scanning over him, her lips twitching into a smile despite how utterly ruined she felt. Every muscle in her body ached. Her thighs trembled when she moved. Her skin was flushed, marked with faint bruises from his hands, his mouth, his teeth. Her hair was a mess. Her brain? Still fuzzy with heat and want, like he'd rewired her completely.

But he was asleep. And she was determined to take five minutes to herself. She padded softly into the bathroom, closing the door with the gentlest click. The mirror was foggy even before the water started. She peeled off his hoodie--the only thing she'd managed to wear all day--and stepped under the stream with a sigh that came from somewhere deep in her chest.

Hot water. Silence. Finally. She tilted her head back, let it cascade over her neck and shoulders, rinsing away sweat, come, spit, the stickiness clinging between her thighs. Her hands moved lazily over her body, eyes closed, the fog curling around her. Muscles unknotted. Her pulse slowed. Maybe she could--

The door creaked open. She froze. Steam rolled past the frame, and then she heard it--the sound of bare feet against tile. A pause. Then his voice, thick and groggy, still deep with sleep:

"You really thought you were gonna wash me off without me noticing?"

She opened her eyes just in time to see him step inside, fully naked, still hard.

"Ryan," she warned, half-laughing, half-dreading how her legs already started to tremble again. "I just needed a minute--"

He was already walking toward her.

"You've had a minute." His tone was soft. Dangerous. Playful. "And now I need one."

She backed up until her back hit the cool tile.

"Babe, I can barely stand--"

He dropped to his knees. Water poured over his shoulders as he slid his hands under her thighs, lifted one leg over his shoulder, and buried his face between her legs before she could even finish her sentence. She cried out, hand flying to his hair.

"Ryan--!"

He groaned like she was the only thing he'd ever wanted, tongue dragging through her folds, licking up the taste of water and skin and whatever was left of him from earlier. He didn't go slow. Didn't tease.

He devoured her. Held her wide open and licked her like it was a job he was proud to do. Like he missed being inside her already. His tongue was firm and filthy, flicking at her clit, pressing deep, dragging across every nerve-ending that made her hips buck and her mouth fall open. Her back arched into the wall.

"I'm--*I just--*I just cleaned--"

"Guess I'll have to get you dirty again," he muttered against her cunt, tongue curling inside her as she sobbed his name.

She came so fast it hit like a lightning strike--hips locking, thighs clenching, both hands tangled in his wet hair as she ground against his face and gasped. He held her through it. Kept licking, slower now, gentler, but still too much. Her legs quivered. Her whole body twitched. Then he stood. His eyes were wild again. Mouth glistening. And his cock was thick, flushed, twitching as he grabbed it at the base and nudged her leg up higher against the wall.

"No," she breathed, already melting. "I can't take any more."

"Yes," he said, voice low and firm. "You can. One more."

He slid into her in one slow, punishing thrust, the stretch sending another sharp pulse through her overstimulated core.

"Ryan--fuck--!"

"You're soaked. Look how easy you take me. Like your body's starving for it." He pulled back and slammed in again, water spraying off both of them as the force of it echoed through the shower.

She couldn't stop moaning. Couldn't pretend she didn't want it. Couldn't do anything but feel. He kept her pinned to the wall, water cascading down their bodies, his mouth against her shoulder, biting, panting, fucking her like he needed it.

"After this," he whispered, fucking into her deeper, harder, "I'll let you rest. I'll let you wash. I'll let you breathe. But not until I make you come all over me one more time."

And that was exactly what he did--fingers rubbing tight circles against her clit while he fucked her into the tile, until she was clenching around him again, coming with a broken scream and barely staying upright in his arms. He followed with a grunt, pulsing deep inside her as her body shook. Only then did he lean back, still inside her, and smile.

"Shower you said. Just a break, you said."

"You're a menace," she whispered, dazed.

"And you're gonna sleep like the dead tonight."

********

The bedroom was dim now, the late afternoon light gone soft and golden through the curtains. Autumn was curled beneath the sheet, hair damp, cheeks flushed from heat and everything else he'd done to her. She was warm, clean, and bone-deep exhausted--finally wrapped in his hoodie again, bare underneath it. One leg thrown across the mattress. Lips parted in a lazy, blissed-out half-smile. Ryan lay beside her, one arm behind his head, the other resting lightly on her waist. His touch was no longer demanding. Just... there. Present. Steady.

But he was watching her. Still. His gaze traced the curve of her mouth, the flutter of her lashes, the way her skin still held faint bruises in the shape of his hands. His cock was hard again--slowly, insistently. But there was no rush. She shifted a little, sensing it. He didn't say anything. Just leaned forward and kissed her. Softly. Slowly. It was a kiss that asked permission, not possession. That said stay with me, not give in to me. A kiss like he had all the time in the world to love her, and none of it was being wasted. Her hand slid up to rest on his chest, over his heartbeat.

"I thought you said you were done," she whispered.

"I lied," he murmured, brushing her hair back from her forehead. "You didn't really believe me, did you?"

She didn't answer. Didn't need to. She let him pull the hoodie up over her head, revealing her bare skin again. His eyes softened like they always did when he saw her like this--flushed and clean and laid out for him, no makeup, no distractions, just her. His.

He kissed her again, deeper now, hands moving with slow reverence--down her ribs, her hips, back up to cup her breast. His thumb circled her nipple gently, coaxing it to a peak. His mouth never left hers. When he finally moved over her, settling between her thighs, she opened for him without hesitation. Her legs wrapped around his waist. She was already warm and slick for him, body aching, but ready again--always ready for him. He slid into her in one slow, perfect stroke. She moaned against his lips. Not from pain, not from pressure--but from the way he filled her so completely, like they were made for this. For each other.

He didn't move at first. Just held there, inside her, letting the moment settle between them.

Then he whispered, "Look at me."

She did. And he started to move. Slowly. Every thrust was deep, drawn out, like he was memorizing the shape of her from the inside. His hands cradled her face. His eyes never left hers.

"You're everything," he murmured. "You know that, right?"

She blinked up at him, heart thudding.

"Ryan..."

"I mean it. I'd give up everything just to keep this. Keep you. Like this. Forever."

She gasped as he rolled his hips just right, brushing her G-spot in a way that made her thighs tremble again. It wasn't rough. It wasn't filthy. It was something else--something that made her chest ache as much as her core. He kissed her again. And again. And again. Each thrust deeper, slower, the pace meant to pull her apart with feeling instead of force.

"I love you," he whispered between kisses, voice thick with everything he felt but hadn't always said. "You don't have to say it back. Just feel it."

"I do," she breathed. "I do. I love you--God, Ryan--"

He groaned softly and pressed his forehead to hers.

"Come with me."

She nodded, clutching his shoulders, her whole body tightening around him as the pleasure built again--not sharp, not overwhelming. Just inevitable.

It washed over her like a slow, crashing wave--full-body warmth, eyes stinging, voice caught in her throat as she clung to him and came with a soft, breathless cry. He followed seconds later, holding her close, burying himself deep inside her and staying there--trembling slightly, moaning her name like it was a prayer. Then everything went still. Their breathing synced. He didn't pull out. Just laid on top of her, chest to chest, heart to heart, holding her face and kissing her slow and sweet as she came down.

Eventually, he pulled the sheet over them both. Tangled his legs with hers. Kept her close.

"Sleep now," he whispered against her temple. "You earned it."

She smiled, dazed and sated.

"So did you."