A/N: Bonus one-shot that doesn't fit into the real plot of MIK.
***
When I sit across from Gavin in our monthly progress meeting, the first thing I think to say is, "How come you never mentioned it was your birthday today, Mr. Stone?"
He raises a surprised eyebrow. A small shrug. "It's a regular work-day, Ms. Collins."
Oh is it? I'm curious if he has something against birthdays or if he's just being purposefully vague or what.
And I don't know why I feel so... puckish today. "I could've got you a present."
There might be something mildly suggestive in my tone, in the look on my face, because his eyes darken, there's a twitch at the edge of his jaw and he watches me closely, knowing that I might be up to something.
I bite my lip, twirl a piece of my hair between my fingers. An inappropriate idea has planted itself into my mind, and now there is definitely something charged in the air between us.
I meet his eyes as my fingers pick up a pen sitting on the desk, hover it in the air beside me for a second before dropping it deliberately to the floor. "Oops."
He swallows, eyes flashing because he knows exactly what game I'm playing.
"I should probably pick that up," I say softly, innocently.
I slide my chair back, get onto the carpet on my hands and knees. The pen lies abandoned and untouched as I crawl under the large space beneath his expansive, solid, wooden desk, my hands finding his strong thighs. He inhales a sharp breath. "Mel," he warns, his voice already an octave lower. "You shouldn't—"
"Can you scoot your chair back, please, Mr. Stone?" I ask innocuously. "I think the pen rolled under there."
And I think he knows better than to protest, because he does as I ask of him, (Because what warm-blooded male can turn down a girl offering to give him a blowjob?) and I rise onto my knees on the other side of the desk, settling myself between his legs.
The carpet stings a little against my shins through my pantyhose but there's so much blood and adrenaline pumping through me everywhere that I don't even care.
I know he's trying to work up the strength to say no, to consider the consequences and exercise some restraint and rational thought for once, but I also know that he doesn't have it in him to resist me. "Someone could walk in any minute..." He looks down at me helplessly, gently using his hands to push mine off his thighs.
But I bite my lip, gaze at him with wide, lustful eyes, and he sighs, perhaps knowing that fighting me is pointless. "This is so wrong, Mel." A small grumble.
His chest rises and falls as I slowly, teasingly undo the buckle of his belt, slide it away, feeling his darkened, heavy gaze on me the entire time.
I pop the button, my heart pounding from excitement about everything that's coming next. Just as my fingers pull down his zipper, floating over the bulge in his pants and earning me a soft moan, there's a knock on the damn door.
Gavin sits up straighter, slides his chair in closer to the desk just as Tiffany pops into the room.
"Sorry to interrupt you gu—oh! I thought Melanie was in here?"
I can't breathe. I know she can't see me under the desk but I press my mouth shut, try not to make a single noise.
This is so reckless and stupid and idiotic. We're both total lunatics.
"She stepped out to take a call." His voice is the texture of gravel, he clears his throat. Despite it all, I'm stifling a smile.
"So weird, I didn't see her." I can imagine her shaking her cute little blonde head in confusion, racking her brain, and I have the sudden urge to laugh. "I just needed to confirm that you're meeting with David Myers from Daylight Media at 2 pm tomorrow? His assistant would like us to send over an itinerary."
And because I'm a wicked creature, I let my hand trail up Gavin's thigh, can hear his breath hitch.
"Yes, that's fine." I stroke him through his pants with heavy pressure from the palm of my hand and he reaches for my wrist just as it disappears. A small, rough sound escapes from low in his throat. "Same agenda as last time, Tiffany. There are a couple new items that I'll send to you by—" I give his erection a squeeze and he falters, "—by the end of the day. I have some things to take care of first."
I swear that his last sentence has a sharp edge to it, completely intended just for me. I can feel the moisture pooling in my underwear, the excited tingling between my thighs only increasing with every sordid second of this madness.
"Sounds good, Mr. Stone." I imagine she gives him a small smile, but then her tone turns morphs into one of concern. "You look a bit... flushed. Would you like me to turn the heat down?"
"That would be great, Tiffany, th—thank you."
"Will do."
It seems like ages before the door finally shuts again. He pushes his chair back, I peak out from under the desk and he gives me a dark look of chagrin that makes me clench my legs together.
I lean into him, rest a hand on each muscular thigh, looking up innocently through thick lashes. "Everything all right, Mr. Stone?"
Something positively dangerous flashes across his clouded eyes. "You're asking for it, Mel." His voice is quiet and raspy, full of warning.
I bite my lip, reach for the tent in his pants, grip him through his slacks. He hisses, leaning back in his chair. My voice is a demure whisper. "Are you going to discipline me, sir?"
A choked grunt escapes his perfect lips as I tug down his pants, his briefs, just enough to pull out his entire throbbing length, to wrap my hand around him, feel how thick and hot he is. He is so hard for me that it looks almost painful.
The sight and feel of him, masculine and virile and huge and erect, sends the restless, wet ache between my legs into overdrive.
I used to think penises were kinda... ugly. Until I saw Gavin's. Everything about it, its size and shape and smoothness and the veins beneath the skin are so strangely perfect that I can feel myself salivating a little, instinctively, my insides clenching wantonly with need just looking at it.
I bring my mouth close to him so he can feel the heat and humidity of my breath.
One of his large hands drifts softly into the back of my hair, his breathing already labored from the anticipation. He looks down at me and I look up at him and our gazes meet, electric and burning brighter than hell.
His fingers thread deeper into my hair to push it away from my face. Despite his comprising position, he gives me a crooked smile, his dilated eyes sparkling and his voice so low and gruff I feel it vibrate through the tips of his fingers down into my scalp. "I hope you know how to swallow, Mel, otherwise you're gonna leave this office with my cum all over your blouse."
My vagina is actually leaking for him, his crassness heating my skin up at by least ten degrees. I brush just the tip of him with my lips, soft as a feather, and his grip on me tightens, he releases a strangled breath. "And who said anything about coming, Mr. Stone?"
A displeased growl. I smile against his pulsing shaft and he twitches against my lips. "Hardly a way to treat a man on his thirtieth birthday, Collins." His voice is a thick, foggy rumble.
"Thirty, huh?" I tear my lips away tauntingly only to slide them, just the faintest whisper, from the top of his length down to the bottom. His fingers tighten even more and he curses into the air. "You're practically an old man, Mr. Stone," I mock.
He uses his hands to tilt my head up so he can meet my eyes, his expression dry and unimpressed and so damn hot. "Are you questioning my stamina, Ms. Collins?" There is a dark, wicked threat behind his words.
I shrug, bite my lip and return his challenge with one of my own. "I guess you'll have to try to prove me wrong some time."
Imagining Gavin spending an entire night fucking me into oblivion is so delicious I could faint just from the thought of it.
When I finally wrap my lips around him, he lets out the hottest, lowest sound that travels right into my underwear. I use a hand to guide him in and out of my mouth as deep as I can possibly let him go, using my lips and tongue and teeth to pull more of those throaty groans from his lips.
I've ever been so turned on from going down on a guy before. I can feel his hooded eyes on me, watching the way I suck every thick inch of him, and I have to press my thighs together to stifle the warm, wet desire aching between them.
And because I can, because I know it will drive him fucking insane and because I'm uncomfortably, soaking wet and because it's his birthday after all, I make sure he sees me drift a hand under my skirt, I let the material ride up to pool around my hips while I slide a thumb across the outside of me, spreading my thighs apart so that I can slip my fingers into my pantyhose, beneath the damp fabric of my panties to rub circles against my aroused clit. I moan around his cock and he curses something obscene, watching me with hungry eyes.
Let me just tell you that it takes a lot of concentration to pleasure two people at the same time like this. My tongue runs a heavy path down his length as I move up and down, his fingers in my hair guiding my pace while my own fingers are slipping in and out of me, my thumb pressing roughly into my soaked folds.
"Do you like watching me fuck myself for you, Gavin?" I peel my mouth away from him only long enough to toss filthy words into the space around us.
A rumbling hum is just about all he can manage. "Does sucking my cock turn you on, Melanie?"A raspy, gruff retort.
Oh, yes, it really does.
I hope to fucking God that the unholy sounds we're making, gasps and moans and whimpers and sighs, do not travel out of these walls.
"You are so fucking beautiful, Mel," he chokes out, panting, as I try my best to give him everything he wants, everything I know feels really damn good. The hand wrapped around the base of him strokes and teases and massages the sensitive space between his length and the heavy sac beneath it. He stumbles over whatever else he was about to say, eyes pressed tightly together, and it makes me irrationally proud to have rendered him incapable of forming words through the haze of bliss I'm inflicting on him.
I let him bump the back of my throat and try not to gag, my eyes watering while the shreds my own orgasm start, slowly, to thread together in my abdomen from how furiously my fingers are working between my legs.
"You taste so good, Gavin," I whisper hoarsely against him, sliding him out all the way before taking him back inside. And he does. Salt and sweet and undeniably masculine.
I know he's almost there from the way his hand is tugging, almost painfully, at the top of my head. The little discomfort, the pain, somehow makes my pleasure seem so much more intense. "I'm close, Mel," he breathes, a warning, just as I think I'm about to combust against my fingers.
And after a few more moments of rising tension, when he's so tightly wound he's close to bursting, he finally reaches his peak and groans a serious of unintelligible curses, empties himself with a spasm into my mouth and I swallow every last drop, licking it all off of him greedily when he's done spilling his orgasm down my throat.
And then I focus back on myself, letting my fingers twirl a couple last heavy strokes between my thighs, enough to throw me off the edge, too. Oh... He presses a warm palm to my mouth to stifle my cry of ecstasy.
"Fuck, Melanie." He sinks back into his chair, runs a frazzled, tired hand through his hair. It takes a couple long moments for both of us to recover, to catch our breaths and return to Earth. Then he looks down at me, his mouth tilting up into a boyish, lopsided grin.
"Happy birthday, Gavin," I sigh, gifting him a satisfied, lazy smile, a stickiness coating the inside of my thighs and the feel and taste of him lingering in my sore mouth. I crawl out from under the desk, can barely stand properly on my shaking legs.
He stands up too and fixes himself, tucks everything back in, does up his button and zipper, his belt, and then he walks towards me, tugs me against him and kisses me, tasting himself inevitably on my lips. "Thanks, Mel." His eyes glimmer with mirth and something... brighter, something that makes my heart race, sends a rapid flutter into the pit of my stomach.
He is my boss and this is a work meeting and we are fifty shades of fucked up, but I don't think either of us, in this moment, actually cares.
He uses his long, deft fingers to smooth my now tangled hair back into place, looking at me with so much... well, so much and making me feel so many warm things. He swipes his thumb across my red, swollen lips.
"How was my progress this month, Mr. Stone?" I mumble close to his face.
He looks down at me, a playful smile tugging at the edge of his mouth. "Excellent multi-tasking, Ms. Collins."
Ha ha.
I straighten out his tie, smooth out my skirt. "How am I gonna get past Tiffany?" And now I'm blushing, hoping that I don't look like I've just sucked someone off even though I probably, unfortunately do.
He chuckles, walking back over to behind his desk. He picks up the phone, presses a button. "Tiffany, can you please go grab me a cup of coffee?"
Through the receiver, I hear a muffled, "Right away, Mr. Stone."
"Wait a minute for her to leave her desk. When she gets back, I'll tell her you came and went."
"So clever, Mr. Stone." I bite my lip. "I did come, didn't I?"
He presses his eyes shut, shaking his head and trying to suppress a smile.
He looks at me and I look at him and them we're both laughing softly, flooded with adrenaline and endorphins and... something else that I'm still not so certain I'm willing to admit to.
Before I can leave, he pulls me against him again, places a couple small, chaste kisses onto my tingling lips.
When we pry ourselves away from each other, I sneak out, rush to the bathroom, take a few minutes to... clean myself up and refresh and so I can return to work without smelling like I just had sex.
When I get back to my desk, Seth asks me why I look so happy and I make up something that doesn't involve giving my boss a blowjob.
***
A/N:
This would not have made it into MIK because I don't think either of them are THIS reckless, lmao. This was borderline ridiculous, and I hope you enjoyed it regardless.
XOXO Ami