novelnext Chapter 231: Kelly’s Office
Chapter 231: Kelly’s Office
"Ah—"
The sound came from somewhere behind the closed office door, low and muffled, not loud enough to reach the corridor outside but present enough to fill the small room completely.
"Ahhhh—"
Miss Kelly was sitting on the edge of her desk with both hands pressed flat against the surface behind her, her head back, her blonde hair loose around her shoulders.
Her skirt was pushed up around her waist and her legs were spread and Liam was between them with his face pressed to her and his hands spread across her inner thighs holding them open.
"Liamm— please—"
He kept going.
His tongue moved in the slow deliberate way it had been moving for the last several minutes, steady and focused, finding the specific things that made her sounds change and returning to them methodically.
Her thighs pressed against his hands every time something landed particularly well, her body trying to close what he was keeping open, and he held the pressure without adjusting.
"Ah— mm— Liam—"
Her hand found the top of his head. Not pushing. Just there, her fingers pressing into his hair, holding on.
She looked down at him.
"Why did you come to class late again," she said. Her voice came out unsteady, the sentence breaking slightly in the middle. "You know how hard it is for me to be strict with you. You know that. And you still—"
He did something specific with his tongue.
"Ah—" Her head went back. Her hand tightened in his hair. "You still keep doing it and I have to— I have to stand up there and—"
He did it again.
"Mm— haa—" She pressed her lips together and the sound came through anyway. "I’m trying to say something."
Liam stopped.
He looked up at her from between her legs, his chin resting on her inner thigh, looking up at her flushed face and her messed up hair and the way she was trying to hold an expression of mild authority and completely failing at it.
He smiled.
"Tell me you don’t like that I came late," he said. "If you actually don’t like it. Say it and mean it."
She looked down at him. Her face was red from her cheeks all the way down her neck. Her lips were pressed together and her hand was still in his hair.
"That’s not what I’m—" She stopped. "I’m trying to explain that it puts me in a difficult—"
He went back down.
"Liam— ah—" Her sentence dissolved immediately, her back arching slightly off the desk, her hand pressing into his head. "Oh god— haa—"
He worked slowly.
Building it back up from the brief interruption, his tongue finding the rhythm it had established before, his hands keeping her legs exactly where he wanted them.
Her sounds came back steadily, climbing from where they had dropped during the conversation.
"Mm— ah— haa—"
Her free hand had found the edge of the desk and was gripping it.
Her boobs rose and fell rapidly with her breathing, moving with each inhale, the fabric of her blouse straining slightly across them with the arch of her back.
"Ah— right there— Liam— right there don’t—"
He stayed right there.
Her leg moved.
Not deliberately, just her body responding, her knee lifting and dropping, her heel pressing against his shoulder and then releasing.
Her other leg did the same thing a few seconds later, both of them restless and trembling slightly at the thighs where his hands held them.
"Haa— mm— oh god—"
He kept the pace exactly where it was. Consistent. Unhurried. Feeling her build toward something and not rushing it, just staying present and letting it arrive at its own speed.
"Liam— I’m— haa— I’m going to—"
He pressed slightly harder with his tongue on the specific spot and held it there.
She came.
Her hand in his hair pulled tight, her whole body going rigid, her legs clamping against his hands with a force that had nothing controlled about it, and the sound that came out of her was long and continuous and she pressed both hands over her mouth halfway through it and it came through them anyway.
"Mmph— haa— mmph—"
Her boobs shook with the force of it, rising and falling rapidly, her whole frame trembling as the release moved through her in waves.
Her legs stayed locked against his hands, her heel pressed hard into his shoulder, her head back and her eyes squeezed shut.
It passed slowly.
Her body unwound by degrees, her legs loosening, her hands dropping from her mouth, her breathing ragged and uneven.
Liam lifted his head.
He looked at her face, completely red, her hair everywhere, her hands now covering her face instead of her mouth, her shoulders shaking slightly with what sounded like embarrassed laughter underneath them.
"I’m so sorry," she said from behind her hands. "I’m so sorry that was—"
He laughed. Low and genuine.
He straightened up and reached across the desk, finding the tissue box near the corner, pulling one out and wiping his face with the particular calm of a man who had no complaints about the situation.
"You’re ready," he said.
She moved her hands from her face and looked at him.
Her expression was the specific combination of thoroughly embarrassed and thoroughly satisfied that existed only in this particular context.
He dropped the tissue and reached for his belt.
She watched him.
His trousers came down and he stepped out of them and moved back toward her and she was already shifting on the desk, making room, her skirt still pushed up around her waist, her legs finding his hips instinctively.
He positioned himself and pushed in slowly.
"Oh—" Her arms came around his back immediately, her legs locking around his hips, pulling him in deeper. Her face pressed into his shoulder, her breath warm against his neck.
He felt her around him, warm and tight, still slightly trembling from before, and he held still for a moment letting her adjust.
"Okay," she said quietly into his shoulder.
He started moving.
Long slow strokes, his hands on the desk on either side of her, his weight over her, each thrust deliberate and even. Her legs tightened around him on the deeper ones, her arms pulling him closer, small sounds coming from her continuously.
"Mm— ah—"
He picked up the pace.
Her boobs moved with every thrust, the fabric of her blouse doing very little to contain the motion, rising and falling, swaying with each stroke. Her legs were locked around his hips but moving with him, her heels pressing into the backs of his thighs, her whole lower body working with the rhythm.
Ta. Ta. Ta. Ta.
"Ah— Liam— haa—"
The desk shifted slightly under them, scraping against the floor by a fraction, and neither of them stopped. Papers near the edge moved. A pen rolled off somewhere. The tissue box shifted to the corner.
"Oh god— right there—"
He drove forward harder and her head went back and she made a sound that was too loud for an office and she pressed her hand over her mouth again immediately, her eyes wide above it, looking at him.
He looked at her hand over her mouth and kept going.
Ta. Ta. Ta. Ta. Ta.
"Mmph— haa— mmph—"
Her muffled sounds filled the office anyway.
Her boobs bouncing with the rhythm, her legs pulling him in with every stroke, her hand staying pressed against her lips while everything else about her was completely beyond management.
He leaned down close to her ear. "You can take your hand away."
She shook her head. Eyes still wide.
"There’s no one in the corridor," he said.
She kept her hand exactly where it was and her eyes said absolutely not and her legs pulled him deeper and she made a sound that got through her palm regardless.
He kept going.
The rhythm built steadily, each stroke feeding into the next, the desk solid beneath them and the office quiet outside the door and her sounds continuous and muffled and completely genuine.
"Mmph— ah— mmph— Liam—"
He felt it building. That familiar pressure, climbing fast now, the pace having been going long enough that everything was tightening toward something.
"Kelly," he said. His voice came out rough.
"Mm—" Not a word. Just acknowledgment.
"Inside?"
She looked at him above her hand. Her eyes did something.
Then she nodded.
Once. Clear.
He drove forward and held there as everything released, a low sound leaving him through his jaw, his hands pressing flat against the desk on either side of her.
She felt it and her legs tightened around him and she made a long muffled sound against her own palm.
He stayed there for a moment.
Both of them breathing.
Then she moved her hand from her mouth slowly and looked at him from very close range, her face flushed and her hair across the desk around her head and her lips slightly swollen.
"It’s so hot," she said.
Her voice was completely wrecked.
She meant the temperature of it. She said it with the specific surprised quality of someone reporting a sensation they hadn’t fully prepared for.
He looked at her.
Then he laughed again. Low and real.
She covered her face with her hands one more time.