“I’d like to see you try,” I say.

Then before I can stop myself, I’m kissing him.

It’s angry.

There’s power behind it, all mashed lips and teeth and tongue, a fight for dominance, a lust fueled by raw frustration and need and everything else that’s been swimming inside me for days, weeks, years, ever since we broke up.

I’m undoing his pants, taking his cock out, feeling his heat in my hand, the veins and the blood pulsing and the familiarity of it all. Big Dick Energy, indeed. I’m aching to be a part of it.

“Fuck yes,” he whispers into my mouth, yanking back on my hair until my throat is exposed. “Go wild with me.”

“I’m not doing anything with you except getting off,” I snap at him, as he licks along my neck. “So hurry up and fuck me.”

“You know I love it when you talk like that,” he says, grabbing me by the waist and spinning me around so my stomach and breasts are pressed down on his desk, my back to him. “You know what it does to me.”

He shoves up my skirt and moans at the sight. “White lace,” he says thickly. “Pretty flimsy looking. Did you wear these on purpose so I could tear them off of you?”

“Shut up,” I tell him, because the thought did go through my head when I was getting dressed this morning and I don’t want him to know how much I think about him.

But who am I kidding? He knows.

Why else am I bent over his desk right now, my ass wriggling in his hands, begging for him?

He runs his thumbs underneath the bands of my thong and with one quick snapping motion, rips the underwear in half. “Oh, you definitely wore these on purpose.”

Then he’s running his hands down my inner thighs, spreading me wider, and he’s dropping to his knees behind me. I instinctively grip the edge of his desk, my breasts pushed up against a stack of books on Hawaii, and I brace as I wait for his tongue.

It starts off slow, licking me right behind the knee, causing shivers to cascade down my spine in electrifying rivers.

Fucking hell.

He’s barely done anything to me and I’m already losing all sense of self control.

With his hands gripping my thighs, fingers pressing in so hard they’re almost bruising, he works his way up, his beard scratching my sensitive flesh as he continues to lick and nibble.

I can’t control the moans slipping out of my mouth, even when I feel him smiling against my skin, loving every second of the pleasure he’s bringing me.

I decide to let it go. If this means he thinks he wins, if this feeds his ego even more, fine.

“Just fuck me,” I blurt out.

He chuckles, the vibrations running over my thighs and up inside me where I’m so damn desperate for him, it’s pathetic.

“Someone’s impatient,” he murmurs, his thumbs now in the crease between my pussy and my inner thighs. He gives me a squeeze, pressing his thumbs in and then he’s licking me out from behind. His flat, strong tongue dips inside me, tasting me, and he’s moaning loudly now, enough that my eyes roll back in my head.

I whimper a bunch of nonsense, not sure what I’m saying, just knowing that I’m begging for more, begging for him, and I hate that I have to beg for it but this is what Kessler does to me. He strips me of everything that holds me together and fills in the missing pieces.

“I’ve missed this,” he says hoarsely, and I can hear the lust dripping from him. “Your taste, your skin, every secret, hidden spot.” He grabs my ass cheeks and spreads them, then pauses. “Tell me that I’m the only man you let do this to you.”

Before I can answer he licks up my ass, eating me out in a wet, arcing curve and I’m moaning loud. “Jesus.”

“I take that as a yes,” he says, sounding so fucking satisfied but I don’t care because so am I. He continues to probe me with his tongue and eager lips. It’s so wrong, so bad, so dirty to have my boss tongue-fucking my pussy and ass like this, bent over his desk like I’m being punished in the best way. Fuck if I care, though.

But when I’m close to coming, he pulls back and then spanks me hard across my ass. “Fuck, Nova,” he groans, smacking me again, the sounds filling the air. “So fucking good. I’m going to give it to you so fucking good.”

Even in my horny stupor I remember he needs a condom but I don’t have to tell him, he’s opening a drawer and I hear the tear of the wrapper.

I brace myself, my hands already cramping as I grip the edge of the desk and he positions his cock at my entrance, slowly pulling it back up and down in a long, sensuous tease, mimicking what his mouth was just doing.

“This has been in my dreams,” he says, his voice so rich and husky it makes me even wetter. “You, just like this.”

“Over your desk, ass in the air?” I ask.

He laughs. “I’ll take you anywhere, Nova,” he says, and with one swift thrust he pushes deep inside my pussy, so deep it feels like the air is being expelled from my lungs. I gasp, a cry dying in my throat, the pain mingling with the sweet until he pulls out fully.

Suddenly I’m hollow without him there.

“Please,” I tell him. “More.”

He smacks my ass again with the flat of his palm and then he’s pushing in again, his long thick dick stretching me to the point of pain. “Nova, Nova,” he murmurs, breathless as he pulls out and thrusts in again. “Jesus, I don’t think I can last long.”

“As long as you make me come,” I warn him, because if he doesn’t there will be hell to pay. I’m not getting done like this just for his enjoyment.

“Still a greedy girl, huh?” he moans and then his grip on my hips tighten and he starts to pick up the pace, thrusting in deeper, longer, harder until the desk starts to shake. His hips piston into my ass, creating a wet slapping sound and I know that despite the AC blowing, he’s sweating on me. Nothing has felt hotter, the slick sounds, the way he’s exerting himself, grunting with each powerful thrust.

“Come for me,” he bites out. “Fucking come for me.”

“Fucking make me,” I tell him through a moan, and he adjusts himself so the curve of his dick is hitting my G-spot. He is the only man to ever make me come like this and my body is tensing up already, anticipating how earth-shattering these kinds of orgasms are.

And then it’s rising up inside me and I’m letting go. Kessler works me harder and harder and I’m swept away by the tide, pounded by waves as the orgasm takes over. I’m crying out loud, so loud that I have to shove the pineapple stress-ball on his desk in my mouth to keep from alerting the whole office what’s going on in here.

I bite down, hard.

“Fuck,” he swears. “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

He grunts loudly, his pumps slowing, but I feel like I’m somewhere on the ceiling, completely obliterated. If I were to look down, I’d see him hunched over me, his toned bare ass flexing as he milks every last drop out of himself.

“Nova,” he says, and I open my eyes, staring at the painting across the room of a Waikiki sunset. Suddenly I’m half on this earth, in this office, in this reality, half in the stars where my body is still floating, my mind stunned by the galaxies whizzing past, at what Kessler was able to bring out of me.

But then the other half takes over. The dominant half. The one that sits up straighter, pushing aside all the hazy strands of the orgasm and realizes what happened.

I just had sex with Kessler on his desk.

Motherfucker.

“Are you okay?” Kessler asks, stepping back.

I pull down my skirt and quickly flip over. His brow is cocked as he eyes me and slowly slips off the condom. “I’m fine,” I say, licking my lips, trying to appear cool, calm, collected.

Then I notice the open drawer beside me.

It’s absolutely stocked full of condoms.

And not just any condoms.

Novelty condoms.

“What the fuck?” I ask. “Why do you have so many condoms?”

“Market research,” he says.

My eyes snap to him. “What?”

He gives me a wary smile. “I was doing some research for my condom idea. I went to the ABC store and stocked up on the novelty condoms. Where do you think I got the pineapple lollipop idea?”

“Please don’t tell me you used one of those condoms to fuck me.”

He grins and picks up the wrapper and tosses it at me.

“It’s piña colada flavoured,” he says proudly.

I stare at the plastic wrapping that has a picture of a piña colada and says Hawaiian Flavored Condom Pop.

Oh my god.

“These are novelty condoms!” I yell at him.

“So?”

“So? You can’t rely on these!” I grab my hair. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I just let you fuck me with a piña colada dick!”

“Hey, you love that piña colada dick,” he says, obviously insulted.

I shake my head, edging away from the condoms. “Now I have to go out and get Plan B.”

“What?” he says, picking up a cheap paper-wrapped one that says I got lei’d in Hawaii. “They don’t say you can’t use them for real.”

“You’re unbelievable. No wonder you got someone pregnant.”

“Hey,” he snaps at me, frowning before he tosses the condom in the wastebasket. “That’s not fair.”

“And market research,” I cry out, gesturing to his giant stash. “Please don’t tell me I’m a test subject.”

“Oh come on, that’s the conclusion you’re jumping to?” he says. “Can’t you just stop being so bitter and distrustful for one second?”

I gasp. Oh no he didn’t.

I’m done here.

“I’m going,” I tell him. “And because it’s Friday night, I’m going straight to my volunteer work after I pick up my car. I trust by the time I get home tonight, you’ll be moved out of my house, because I really don’t want to see you.”