Smoldering Desires

A/N A question one might ask is…Why would Gris suddenly act so recklessly?

Think on it.

Part Two of Simmering Desires-Fire

Sara is bent over Gil’s desk signing that last report.

The door closes with a solid click. She inhales. His smell clouds the room. There is his expensive shampoo and pipe tobacco that he thinks no one knows about.

She lifts her head but is halted by his heavy hand. Gil’s hand.

He is hard against her cheeks.

He strokes her backside through the thin material of her panties occasionally traveling to the back of her thigh, eventually pulling the panties to one side.

She can feel the little spot on his palm that is rough from turning the microscope year after year.

No one else has that spot on their palm.

No on else has turned the scope until they have the specialized callous.

His fingers play at the entrance of her opening. He plunges into her.

She is slick with excitement and she moans a little.

She wonders how long he has been standing there. He is so hard and big.

His breath comes in raged bursts.

His chest rubs against her back as he kissed her neck.

This time she bites her lip to bottle the moan inside of her.

He pulls her blouse from the confines of her skirt.

He’s surprised that he can’t see her spine. Instead her spine is covered with a thin layer of muscle.

He releases the catch of her bra and kisses her back.

The hair on his face leaves red patterns all over. He is marking her.

The kiss is hard.

“Is this what you want?”

Her juices are running down her thighs now. She is grateful for the words.

She sounds like a feral cat when she answers in the affirmative.

He dips his fingers deeper into her.

Her head snaps back as he tangles his hands in her wild loose hair.

Something between delight and defeat runs through her slender frame.

What is she doing? Why is she letting him have his way with her like a whore? How long had she waited for him to notice her, for him to want her? She had given up months ago.

He only wants her now because she has created an elegant art of ignoring his longing glances, glances that he will never do anything about. She has moved on. Her life is her own again.

Then why is she there with her long fingers presses against his heavy desk, the one they picked out together when they were still friends. Had he known that day he would have it this way when he decided?

Of course he had. He could read her better than any book. She was transparent and pathetic and she tried to loathe him for it but she couldn’t.

When he enters her, she sees light and heat before her eyes and her knees buckled. She was brought back to her senses by his powerful hard movements.

He is larger than she expected and she tries to accommodate all of him because she knew there would be no other time. This would be the beginning and the end of them.

She spreads her feet apart.

He growl drips with hostility and sexuality, he is angry at himself now that she can read his mind, that she knew that he wanted to be deeper inside of her.

He was touching the deepest part of her now, parts that have taunted his dreams, that woke him and begged for attention.

She tightens and releases him.

He bites at her back to muffle his cry.

His voice is so low that she might have imagined it. “How long have you wanted me?”

He moves her body against a stack of papers and they fall to the floor.

He pushes harder. “How long Sara?”

“Since the day I met you.”

He his happy with her response and she can feel his sack against her bottom.

“Is this how you like it?” He puts on hand on her shoulder for leverage. She welcomes the vice like grip.

“You know it is.”

“Is that why you had your cute little ass turned up for me?”

“Yes.” Her release is eminent. She does not want it to be so fast. She wants more time to dip him into her body. She tries to regain some control. She achieves a measure of success.

He is slamming into her now, a movement so swift and hard that she have not thought he was capable of it.

His climax starts suddenly and pushes her; she struggles to hang on.

After he slips from her, stroking her hair and raining a trail of kisses down her back, waiting for her breathing to return to normal, he looks at her. He kisses her shoulder where he had left a mark. He kisses her hips where his hands had not left a print.

Reluctantly she turned to face him her skirt still around her hips, her panties back in place.

Brass startles them as he speaks from the other side of the door.

“Hey Gris open up.” Sara laughs at the words.

Her lips are swollen to the touch. He kisses her hard, groaning deep in her throat.

Their eyes lock before hers flit to the door. He’s nervous. She is not.

“I am busy Brass. Go away.”

“War says he just saw Cookie go in. Is there some party I am not invited to?”

Sara mouth turns up at the corners. She looks tired. He want to take her home so that she can sleep, so that he can move his hand over while she sleeps and wake her with gentle kisses. She is working on Gil’s pants now, zipping them up buttoning them up, securing the belt back into place, stroking him a little.

She stands, tucks her blouse into place while his hand reaches behind her to redo her clasp of her bra.

Her eyes are soft and he knows that he is too far gone for anyone to save him. He hopes that she doesn’t know how bad he has it.

Brass makes noises with the door.

“Do I look like a wanton woman?”

“Uh huh.”

He does not want to open the door. He wants to feel her legs wrap him, her breasts against his chest.

She wiggles from under him looking presentable and cool, just like herself.