Page 79 of Reckless Obsession

I nod frantically, chest heaving.

“Good boy,” he murmurs, the praise sliding over my skin like silk and fire at once. “Look at you… bent over your father’s desk, taking my cock greedily. All that attitude earlier, and now you’re just a desperate little slut for me.”

The words burn through me, humiliation and arousal crashing together.

I love it. I freaking love it.

Without warning, he hooks his arm under my right knee, lifts it onto the desk, and spreads me wider. He yanks me upright against his chest, his hand tightening possessively around my throat.

“I love how your ass takes my dick.” He breathes hotly against my ear, lips brushing my skin. “I’m so proud of you, baby.”

Then he starts moving again. Deep, hard, unrelenting. The wet, filthy sound of skin slapping skin fills the office, obscene and loud. Every brutal thrust forces broken moans from my throat. My head falls back against his shoulder, completely exposed, completely his.

I can’t think. Can’t breathe. All I feel is his heat burning into my back, his thick cock stretching me open, his fingers digging into my throat like ownership. The vulnerability is overwhelming, the pleasure devastating.

“You feel that?” he rasps, grinding deep in slow, filthy circles that make my toes curl, and my cock twitch helplessly. “This is what you’ve been starving for, isn’t it? All the times you pointed a gun at my head, all the times you set my car on fire, all the venom you spit at me… but the second I bend you over and bury myself inside you, you fall apart so beautifully for me.”

“Fuck you,” I rasp, the last thread of defiance slipping out before I can stop it.

Tristan lets out a dark, satisfied chuckle that vibrates through my body.

“There he is. My stubborn little spitfire.”

He rewards me by snapping his hips harder, fucking me with fierce, punishing strokes that make stars burst behind my eyes. My legs tremble violently as pressure builds like a tidal wave ready to crash.

“I’m gonna come,” I groan, voice wrecked and desperate. “God, Tristan. Your cock’s gonna make me come untouched.”

“I know,” he growls. “Now keep your eyes on that camera up there.”

My gaze lifts, locking onto the small black security camera in the corner of the office. A filthy, broken smile curves my lips. He knew. Of course he knew I planned to keep the footage, to watch myself get ruined by him again and again.

His rhythm never falters. Each thrust punches the air from my lungs, hammering that perfect spot until I’m shaking, sobbing with pleasure. His hand stays locked around my throat, the other gripping my thigh, holding me open and helpless as he uses me.

“Come for me, Maksim,” he commands, voice rough with need. “Come all over your father’s desk while the camera watches what a desperate slut you become for me.”

The words, the angle, the overwhelming feeling of being his—it’s too much. Pleasure coils tighter and tighter until it snaps.

I cry out as my orgasm crashes through me, violent and blinding. My cock pulses untouched, painting the desk in thick ropes while my hole clenches rhythmically around Tristan’s cock. He keeps fucking me through it, growling praises and filth against my ear, dragging out every last shudder until I’m boneless and trembling in his arms. My legs shake so badly I would collapse if not for his iron grip holding me upright against his chest.

“Fuck yes,” he growls, voice shredded and feral. “Squeeze my dick just like that. That’s it, baby.”

His thrust doesn’t falter as he chases his own release with savage intensity, each thrust deeper, harder, as if he’s trying to fuck eight years of denial into me and imprint himself where no one else can reach.

His cock swells impossibly thicker inside me, stretching me to my limit. Low, animalistic grunts pour from his throat with every thrust, raw and desperate. I can feel the tension coiling tighter in his powerful body pressed against my back, muscles locked and trembling.

He bites down hard on the junction of my neck and shoulder, sucking into my skin as his hips piston faster.

“Tristan—” I gasp, voice hoarse and shattered.

“Gonna come inside you,” he grunts, the words vibrating against my skin like a vow and a threat. “Gonna flood this tight little hole until you’re dripping with me. You’re going to feel me for days, spitfire. Every time you sit down, every time you move, you’ll remember who owns you.”

With a deep, animalistic groan that sounds almost pained, Tristan buries himself to the hilt and comes. His cock pulses violently inside me, thick and hot as jet after jet of cum floods my insides, forcing every last drop as deep as physically possible. His whole body shudders violently against mine, chest heaving, breath ragged and hot against my sweat-slick skin.

Even after the final heavy pulse, he stays buried to the hilt, rocking slowly, almost tenderly, as if he refuses to let a single drop escape. His arms wrap around me like steel bands. One hand still loosely collared around my throat, the other splayed possessively over my stomach, pressing gently as if he wants me to feel exactly how full I am.

“You’re going to feel me leaking out of you for hours,” he murmurs, dark satisfaction dripping from every word. “And when you watch that footage later… you’ll remember exactly who fucked you like this and filled you like you were made for it.”

Chapter 16