APEX - Season 2

Ch. 14: The Weight of the World

Calla

Rhys didn't hold back. I got what I asked for...mostly.

There was one thing that we didn't do, that we could have done. If we were braver, or surer of ourselves and our feelings, maybe it would have happened. Then again, I might have been the only one feeling that way. Maybe it never even crossed Rhys's mind.

Plenty of other things did, however. He seemed driven this morning—willing to overlook the risk of workplace sex if it meant he could take what he wanted. And I had to admit, against my more rational mind, I loved the fact that what he wanted was me.

It turned out that my desk was exactly the right height. My legs wide apart, panties torn away by his frantic fingers, I braced myself for him.

There was no long, drawn-out wait this time. We may have been acting reckless, but even in our frenzied state, we knew a lengthy session was out of the question. We had a brief window before the day caught up with us, and it seemed, Rhys was gunning to maximize every second of it.

I knew what to expect, but I still had to stifle a cry as his throbbing cock found what it was looking for. God, I could never get enough of this, of him filling me up. Rhys had an uncanny ability to sense exactly what I needed—what pace to go at, what rhythm, when to pull back and make me beg for more, when to end my rapturous torture so that we both got the bliss we were seeking.

He did all of this and barely made a sound. Not out loud, at least. Unable to let our primordial selves moan and cry out loud, we turned inward, towards our psychic bond, and explored within our connection what we couldn't within the office space.

There, we could be as loud as we wanted. We could say to each other whatever came to mind. There were no rules. And so, it was there that Rhys vocalized what he wanted.

You're mine. Your pussy is mine.

I nodded in agreement but that wasn't good enough for him.

"Say it," he whispered, but tapped my head lightly.

I paused as a rush of pleasure temporarily removed my ability to form any words, whether out loud or in my head.

And then, because I knew what I wanted—what I so desperately needed, I told him what he wished to hear.

I'm yours, Rhys. My pussy is your pussy.

No one else's? He asked this almost as though there was some doubt in the matter.

No one else's but yours.

Satisfied, he increased the intensity of his thrusts. I loved how much he wanted me, and I must admit, I didn't mind that bit of vulnerability he'd let me see—the doubt that entered into him. We might play our games. I might tell him I'm his and even believe it, but he would never have ultimate power over me. I entered into this arrangement freely, and I was only his because he was mine as well.

But right now, I wasn't going to bring that up. I couldn't have. My focus became servicing him--becoming for him what he wanted, and he needed. In turn, he gave me what I needed, pressing a finger against my clit as he thrust—just at the moment when doing so made me go from eighty to one hundred and eighty.

The temptation to break through the walls of our minds with my screams grew as I climaxed. I kept it in check, though, and instead, I turned my neck to him as the spasms of pleasure ripped through me. It was the last thing on my list, the thing I most didn't want him to hold back on, the thing that would make me his beyond a workplace screw.

It was the act that would unite us in a way that was impossible.

He grazed my neck as he entered into his own climax and in our connected minds, I saw that he wanted this too. To bite, to pierce, to claim.