Page 80 of The Beast's Broken Angel

The second we were inside, I shoved him against the solid wood of the desk, kicking the door shut behind us. His breath stuttered, hands gripping the edge as he looked back at me, eyes dark and wild.

I reached into the drawer nearby for the lube—necessary, practical, and now urgent. I slicked my fingers and eased one inside him, watching his face twist at the delicious stretch. He rocked back on me, greedy for more.

“You've been good for me,” I murmured, voice softer now, “but I’m going to make sure you’re even better after this.”

He nodded, breath catching as I worked him open, slow and patient. His hips rolled, chasing the fullness I was teasing him with. When I slicked myself and pressed to his entrance, the first inch slid in with a slow, deliberate pressure. We both caught ourbreath.

He was tight, perfect, desperate for more.

“Move,” he groaned, voice hoarse. “Please, Adrian, I need you to move.”

I set a rhythm—part punishment, part worship. Each thrust deliberate, designed to drive him wild, to claim and worship and break him all at once. I wrapped a hand around his cock, stroking him in time, feeling his body clench and surrender beneath me.

“Look at you,” I whispered, lips pressed to his neck, one hand gripping his hip hard enough to leave bruises. “Taking me so well. So fucking perfect.”

He choked on a gasp, hips surging back, head falling against my shoulder. “Only ever for you,” he managed, voice breaking.

I pressed closer, hand sliding down his thigh to pull him even tighter against me. My teeth grazed his jaw. I drove forward, slow and deep, savoring how he stretched to take me.

He clung to me, moans echoing off the walls, hands clawing for something solid as I fucked him, slow and punishing. His cock leaked against the door, a streak of desperation and surrender.

I shifted, pulling almost all the way out, teasing his rim until he whimpered and pushed back, desperate to be filled again. I slammed back inside, burying myself to the hilt, his entire body shuddering with a sob.

“God, Adrian—” he gasped.

I caught his mouth in a rough, possessive kiss. “Not God,” I growled, nipping his bottom lip. “Just the one you begged for.”

I didn’t let him recover. I tangled my fingers in his hair, pulled his head back so I could bite the spot that always made him tremble. My hips snapped forward in a punishing rhythm, each thrust pushing him further, driving him wild.

“You’re dripping,” I murmured, stroking him slow while I fucked him harder. “Desperate for it, aren’t you?”

He nodded, too far gone for words, trembling in my arms.

“Not yet,” I warned, tightening my grip on his cock. “You come when I say. Your pleasure is mine now.”

“Please—Adrian, I—” He tried, voice breaking, but I slammed forward hard enough to silence him.

He was shaking, legs barely holding him up, but I didn’t let go. I wanted him undone. I wanted to be the only thing he remembered.

I spun him around, catching his gasp with another bruising kiss. Then I lifted him, his legs wrapping around my waist as I shoved him against the wall. I slid back inside, holding him open and suspended, his cock trapped between us, leaking against my shirt.

“Look at me,” I commanded, biting his lower lip before pulling back. “I want you to watch me.”

His eyes locked on mine, wide and glassy, and I fucked him like I was branding him from the inside out—fast and deep, no hesitation, just need.

His arms wrapped around my neck, his mouth falling open in a silent cry as I angled my hips, each thrust driving him higher.

“You’re close,” I breathed against his jaw, hand moving between us, stroking him in time with my thrusts. “But you wait for me.”

He whimpered, nodding, eyes wild.

I bit his throat, dragging my teeth down his collarbone, letting him feel every mark I left. Then I pulled almost all the way out before slamming back in, grinding my hips to hit that spot inside him that made him cry out, voice shattering on my name.

He was trembling, mouth open, eyes unfocused. I squeezed the base of his cock again, holding him right on the edge.

“Beg for it,” I whispered, hand tangling in his hair, forcing him to look at me. “Tell me what you need.”

His eyes found mine, desperation raw and shining. “Please, Adrian,” he choked, barely able to speak. “I’m yours. Just let me come. Please.”