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Her arms were full of research papers and mind full of homework as she made her way past the unfamiliar classrooms and research labs. Her professor had sent her to the school of medicine to drop off the papers for one of the doctors there, and it was a welcome break from her schoolwork.
“Dr. Williams?” she called as she shoved open the office door with her elbow.
”He’s at lunch right now,” someone said, and she looked over at the couch, where a man in a lab coat - probably another grad student - sat, legs crossed, writing in a notebook that he held on top of a thick textbook. He didn’t look up.
”I’ve got research from Professor Garcia here.”
He still didn’t look up, pen scratching on the paper.
Rude.
She cleared her throat, glancing from his black hair to the desk. “Can I leave it somewhere?”
He set down his pen pointedly, and looked up at her, adjusting his glasses with one long finger, and her eyes widened.
”Zayne?!”
He recognized her at the same time, only showing it in the smallest tick of a smile in the corner of his mouth. “Oh. Hello again.”
They had been neighbors in their childhood. She’d forced him to eat ants, he’d gotten her in trouble, they’d set up a lemonade stand together - years of playing together, but when she moved away, they’d lost touch. She hadn’t seen him in almost twenty years.
”I didn’t know you were at this school!”
“I’m surprised, too. I’ve never seen you.”
“What are you studying?”
He raised an eyebrow, glancing around the room like the answer was obvious.
”Well, medicine, yeah, but what’s your speciality?”
”Cardiac surgery.” He stood and set the heavy textbook on the coffee table, approaching her and reaching out to take the papers from her hold. “Final year, too.”
”Already?” she asked, and at the look he gave, she clarified, “I thought surgeons studied for like, ten years.”
“Sometimes, true. I was lucky enough to condense my studies into a shorter time period.” He took the papers and paused for a brief second.
God, he was tall. And handsome. She’d never admit that she’d had her first childhood crush on him, and now, with some humiliation, she realized it might still exist.
”What are you studying?” he asked, but it sounded forced. She realized she might be interrupting his studies. Or maybe he felt awkward, seeing her again.
”Political science,” she said, brushing it off a little. “I better let you get back to studying.”
”Tell Professor Garcia that I’ll bring her documents back next week,” setting them neatly on the doctor’s desk.
She glanced at the papers and bit her lip. “I’ll tell her.”
-
The whole next week, she caught herself glancing up from her work to see if a certain someone might be walking past. She took the route past Professor Garcia’s office, in case he might be dropping by. The school of medicine was on the far side of the university, so it made sense that they didn’t run into each other - but now that she knew, she wanted to see him again. She wanted to catch up with him, and ask him how his parents were. She wanted to ask how he got interested in cardiac surgery specifically. When he was seven, he’d wanted to be a veterinarian.
By Friday, though, she figured she’d missed it, and she was lost in homework, bent over a table in the library when someone came up beside her.
His hand pressed against the tabletop, black button-up rolled up to his elbows, and her eyes moved up to his face. No glasses today. Top button undone. Hair a bit askew.
She felt her cheeks pink a little, but she brushed it off with her surprise. “Hey!”
”In the library after five?” he chuckled. “You’ve changed.”
She gave a look of mock offense. “You’re saying that when I was six, I didn’t have your acclaimed study rituals?”
”Your grandma said you didn’t have them when you were in high school, either.”
She stopped and tilted her head at him. “When did you see grandma?”
”I ran into her at the airport several years ago.”
”She never told me!”
”She probably just forgot. It wasn’t a long conversation.”
“But it’s you,” she argued, then hoped that didn’t come off weird.
He smiled a little - still, even all grown up, very quiet with his emotions. Very guarded. It had always made her curious. How could you feel things so strongly and not be loud about them? She’d always been loud. Kicking, screaming, shouting. She vividly remembered punching him in the stomach when he stole her Halloween candy.
”How is she doing now?” Zayne asked, taking the seat next to her.
She straightened her books and nodded. “She’s good. She’s going to retire this year.”
”Really?” he said, looking genuinely surprised. “Are you sure she’s alright?”
She laughed, because he was right - Grandma wasn’t one to slow down. “Don’t worry, she’s just moving from full-time to contract work. The company won’t let her go that easily.”
”That’s good.”
She turned her chair towards him. “What made you choose cardiac surgery?”
He adjusted his collar, giving a humorless laugh. “It’s a long story.”
She glanced at the time on her phone. “The library doesn’t close for a while.”
-
Catching up was easy. He was as soft spoken and serious as ever, and if she hadn’t known him as a child, she might have been scared off by it. But she knew that tiny shift in tone when he made a joke.
Somewhere in the middle of their conversation, she’d managed to slip in a question about a girlfriend, probing to see what situation he was in. His hesitation and dodging gave her a pretty clear idea that he wasn’t seeing anyone.
When she checked the time and realized the library was closing, he walked her out of the library, pulling on his long black coat as the wind blew past. Growing up had done nothing but wonders, and she hoped so badly that he thought the same about her, even a little bit.
-
He did think the same. He couldn’t stop thinking it, actually, as he walked to his car, fiddling with his keys in his coat pocket. She looked good. She had no idea how good she looked. The way her hair fell over her shoulder in waves. The face she made when she was concentrating, before he interrupted her studying. The way her cropped shirt hugged her waist.
The way she’d mentioned, offhandedly, that she wasn’t dating anyone.
-
When Professor Garcia asked her to take some more papers over to the school of medicine, she hoped she hadn’t looked too excited. It was a beautiful spring day, the sun was out, and there was a spring in her step as she boarded the trolley that took her to the other side of the large campus. The medicine building was bustling with activity when she arrived, just at that interval when one class let out and everyone rushed to the next one, so it took her a little longer to get to Dr. William’s office. To her disappointment, the doctor was there, and Zayne was not. Which was a silly thing to be disappointed about, she supposed, and she was about to leave when she saw a photo on the wall - a recent picture of the new Akso Hospital, with Dr. Williams near the center of the ribbon cutting. There at the end of the ribbon was a face she recognized.
“Oh, I didn’t realize you and Zayne Li were at the Akso opening.”
Dr. Williams stood up. “Ah, you know him? He’s one of my most brilliant students.”
”I’m sure he is.”
”He starts his residency at Akso next year. How do you know our Mr. Li?”
“We grew up on the same street.” She smiled as Dr. Williams approached the photo and straightened it minutely. “I didn’t know he was starting residency soon. I’m sure he’ll enjoy it.”
”Yes, I’m sure he’ll be all smiles.” Dr. Williams laughed at his own joke, and she did too. His reputation for a straight face had infected the school too, it seemed. “You know, I was going to take these notes up to his office, but I’ve got a meeting in a couple minutes…”
Before he could even ask, she straightened. “I’ll do it.” The doctor went back around his desk and shuffled through a large stack to find the notes. “I wouldn’t mind saying hello to ‘our Mr. Li’.”
”Thank you kindly. You’re a lifesaver. Do you know where his office is?”
”No, I don’t.”
”Fourth floor. Take the first right and go through the door - old buildings like this are made into mazes, aren’t they? Just keep winding down that hallway until you get to office 431.”
-
It was quiet in the hallway of graduate student offices. There were posters of brain infographics, medicinal definitions, and photos of graduated doctors hanging on the walls. The doctor hadn’t been joking when he called it a maze, as some of the offices were segmented behind doors, and sometimes the hallway looped around on itself. But she made it to the top corner of the building where 431 sat, and knocked on the door.
“Come in.”
She pushed open the door gently, hearing the clack of his keyboard. The large window bathed the room in the afternoon light, painting the many potted plants gold.
His desk sat on the side of the room behind the door, so he didn’t see her until she’d stepped inside. She smiled when she saw him, and the typing stopped.
“Surprise,” she said. She held up the notes. “Dr. Williams sent these for you.”
“Are you Dr. William’s assistant now? I thought that was my job.”
She walked to his desk and held out the papers. He took them as her eyes moved across the painstakingly clean surface. Even the pens were organized. Sticky notes were laid out in color order - white, yellow, blue.
“Wow. Someone hasn’t changed.”
He flicked his gaze up at her for a second, then kept typing.
”Remember when you organized the autumn leaves by color?” she laughed, flicking the blue stack with her finger. He immediately reached out and straightened it. She flicked it again, and this time when he reached for it, she pressed her hand over his.
He looked up, dark eyes locking with hers.
”You look good, Zayne,” she said softly. “You look really good.”
After a second, he cleared his throat, and tugged his hand away gently, hands back on the keyboard. But he didn’t really type.
”Thank you,” he said at last, a little awkward.
She could see the red in his cheeks.
“Are you busy tonight?” she asked.
He took a breath, glancing at the calendar on the wall to the side of his desk. “Yes, I have a surgical doctor’s consortium that I have to attend.”
She could see it written on the calendar and knew it wasn’t some sort of excuse - but she didn’t want to push, so she straightened and smiled. “Maybe some other t-”
”But I’m free tomorrow night,” he said, before she could finish.
She stopped in surprise. He looked her straight on, setting his jaw firmly.
”Have you been to the new archeology exhibit in the campus museum?”
”No, I haven’t,” she said. “But I love archeology.”
”I know. I remember.” He flexed his hand. “I’ll meet you there at 5:30?”
-
He remembered. Wasn’t that silly? Yes, she’d always beg for the National Geographic channel, and when they went to the library, she’d devour all the Egyptian archeology books. She’d even done a big science project on it and he’d helped her with the model.
But she’d only been eight years old, and he’d been, what, ten? It was so long ago.
But he’d remembered.
She swallowed hard.
A museum wasn’t really a formal date, but she knew he’d likely be wearing his slacks and button up, so she wanted to look nice. She wanted to look mature and classy. So she chose her nice white slacks and a black blouse with little ruffles at the neckline.
When she walked up to the museum, he was waiting for her with tickets in hand, and he handed her one as they walked to the door. He looked as damn fine as she’d expected, but something about him waiting for her there, looking for her, made her get goosebumps. His emerald green shirt under the black jacket, the silver cuff links. The way he guided her through the exhibit. The way he put his hand on her elbow to steer her out of the way of passerby’s.
The way he held the door for her when they left and asked if she wanted a coffee. The way he slowed his steps when their cups were empty, lingering in the park. The way he volunteered to walk her back to her car.
”Oh, I need to grab something from my office,” he sighed as they passed the medicine building. “Do you mind?”
”Not at all.”
He took the stairs, not the elevator, of course, and she followed up behind him, huffing a little. He took off his jacket at the fourth floor, warm from the climb, and she had the perfect private view of his broad shoulders. For a second she just let herself stare, big eyed, until he turned back to glance at her. She made some silly joke about the hallway maze, and he smiled a little. That damn little smile made her heart jump.
In his office, she could see the sunset was getting low, pink and purple now through the big window. She stood by it, basking in it, while he rummaged through a file cabinet.
”Here it is.” He closed the drawer and came to stand by her.
“It’s a beautiful view,” she said.
”Yes, I’m lucky. Some of the other graduate students have closets for an office.”
”You’re not Dr. William’s favorite, are you?”
”I don’t think I can lie and say I’m not.”
She laughed, and he looked back out the window, but she could see the little glint of pride in his expression at making her laugh.
She turned towards him slightly, raising her hand to his collar, adjusting it carefully. Her hand rested against his chest for a moment. She could feel his heart beating. Pounding. When she raised her chin to look at him, they were only inches away from each other.
”Why did you remember that I liked archeology?” she whispered.
He swallowed and then adjusted his glasses. “I- I have a good memory,” he said swiftly.
”I remember you saying you hated archeology,” she teased, stepping even closer.
He almost fumbled, stepping back a little. She could see the blush in his cheeks. “No I didn’t.”
”You said you hated old things.”
“I simply prefer to see the advances in science. Cardiac surgery involves many new techniques,” he said, looking anywhere but at her.
She raised an eyebrow, surprised at how flustered he was.
”And I didn’t say I hated old things, either,” he muttered. “I just didn’t like the tunnels.”
”Ah, I forgot about that!” she chuckled. “You were a little claustrophobic, weren’t you?” She raised her hands and tugged his glasses off gently, setting them on the windowsill. Zayne let her. She pressed her hands against his eyes, blindfolding him, and he went suddenly still. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Is that why you’re so nervous right now?”
He didn’t say anything. She could feel his face burning under her hands, and saw his Adam’s apple bob when he swallowed. She moved closer, lips hovering near his mouth, giving him a chance to pull away, but he didn’t.
”Do you remember this?”
-
On his eighth birthday, her grandma had told her to give him a birthday kiss. She was only six, and had boldly gone right up to him, in between bites of cake, and smacked him on the lips. All the adults laughed, and her grandma had cackled “I meant on the cheek!” Zayne had been furious and disgusted, and he’d run to the bathroom to wash his face for a good five minutes.
The next few birthdays, the adults would make some joke about it, and the older she got the more embarrassing it was. On his tenth birthday - the last one before they parted ways - she ran away crying because she was so embarrassed.
And when she got older, it became a silly memory of a boy who she had once known. But all of a sudden, the boy was back.
-
Her lips pressed to his, firm and slow, for a long second. She drew back, lowering her hands from his eyes, and he stared at her with the biggest, shiniest puppy eyes, dumbstruck.
She traced her thumb over his jawline, enjoying the way his fingers gripped her waist at her touch.
”I remember everything about you,” he said. “You were my best friend.”
She caught his eye, surprised and flattered. “Really?”
He nodded, slowly at first, eyes on her lips.
She waited for him to kiss her - she didn’t want to push too far if he didn’t want it - but he didn’t move.
”I’ll walk you back to your car,” he said finally, softly.
”Alright,” she answered, smiling to herself.
They got halfway down the hall before he said “Oh, my notes,” and hurried back to his office to grab them.
-
Now that they had each other’s numbers, they fell into a rhythm. They’d grab coffee when she was between classes, or visit a symposium together. He invited her to a gallery event of his colleague’s. She suggested they visit a new food truck. She kept waiting for him to kiss her, and even though he looked like he wanted to, he kept backing down. He’d always been like this as kids, and he was still like it now. Even when he was deciding what to order, he’d look at the menu for much longer than she did, reading the descriptions thoroughly. He read all the plaques at the museum all the way through. He read every page of the symposium booklet. When they were at the library together, she could see he even read through the reference lists at the end of his papers. Thorough, decisive, and picky. So if he was waiting until he decided it was proper to kiss her, she didn’t mind.
Well, she did mind. When he laughed at something she said, and his eyes sparkled, or when he loosened his tie, or when he was studying hard and he flexed his hand, or when he ran his hand through his hair, or when she caught him staring at her. She definitely did mind. She wanted to kiss him again, badly.
Especially when he called it a date. Officially. He called her one evening and asked her to dinner at a local pub. On a date.
Surely he would kiss her now, she thought. He’d drop her off at her apartment and kiss her goodnight. Because they were dating now!
But he didn’t.
”That’s it,” she muttered to herself after he’d driven off. She kicked off her shoes and grabbed her phone to text him. It was time to give him a push. Can you help me study tomorrow?
-
He showed up at her apartment right on time. He was wearing what he probably thought was ‘casual’, nice dark wash jeans and a quarter zip sweater. He’d brought her coffee and some pastries, which they snacked on while they studied at the table.
”It’s just like old times,” she laughed, opening up the textbook.
He was already scribbling something, and shoved a paper to her with some practice problems. “Let’s look at these ones.”
She leaned over the table, trying to concentrate even though his hands were so beautiful as he wrote, pointing things out to her.
”So it’s actually quite simple…” he trailed off.
She looked up and caught him staring right down her neckline. With the way she was leaning, he had quite the view, and she didn’t mind. In fact, she leaned further. It seemed to break his freeze, and he whipped his head back down to the paper.
”Um, so it’s quite simple if you work one step at a time.”
”Zayne.”
”Yes?” he asked without risking looking up.
“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”
Then he did look up, wide eyed. She raised an eyebrow. “I-” he stuttered for a second. “I didn’t want to just throw myself at you.”
”Zayne,” she said flatly. “We’re dating.”
His cheeks were reddening. “I wanted to be careful not to read into anything.”
She reached over and brushed the hair off his forehead. “You’re too careful.” She stood suddenly, pushing her chair back, and pulled the table away from his seat, giving her room to slide in front of him. She sat down on his lap, facing him.
”You’re not careful enough,” he said, blushing. “Remember when you jumped off that tree-”
”Do you want to kiss me?” she asked.
He froze, staring at her. His eyes moved slowly to her lips. “Yes,” he said quietly. “Please.”
”Then kiss me, Zayne,” she whispered.
His hands moved to her hips, and she could feel his fingers shaking a little. His nerves were cute. Then he closed the distance, finally, and found her mouth. She relaxed against his lips, letting her mouth open to him. He responded immediately - finally! - and now that he’d started, he kissed her in earnest. His hands crawled up her back, cradling her closer, tilting his head to get in deeper. She wrapped her arms around his neck, sighing in relief. Finally, finally, finally.
He pulled back, heaving a breath. “When you walked into Williams’ office,” he said, his nose brushing against hers, “I thought I was dreaming.”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“No,” he denied. “You looked so beautiful.”
She snorted. It sounded silly and romantic, but he was looking at her completely serious. “You know what I thought when I saw you?” she asked. “‘God, he’s hot.’”
He blinked a couple times, eyes flitting back and forth a little embarrassed. “You’re not serious.”
She leaned her chest up against him, sliding his glasses off his face. “‘God, he’s sexy.’” She kissed him again, deeper, tongue against his teeth, feeling him suck in a breath beneath her. Tasting, feeling.
She bit his lower lip and rolled her hips against him, watching his response, and god, his response was overwhelming. His whole body shuddered, head dropping as his fingers dug into her arms.
He looked too good like this, hair mussed from kissing, cheeks blushed pink. She played with the zipper of his sweater, placing full kisses along his high cheekbone. When she rolled her hips again, his head fell backwards, exposing his whole neck to her, on a silver platter. She nipped at his Adam’s apple and earned a soft groan from his throat.
“Let’s go to my room,” she whispered.
He inhaled sharply, holding her firmly by the arms. “No, we need to study,” he said weakly.
She raised an eyebrow, licking a long, sensual stripe along his jaw, feeling him shiver again. Studying was the last thing on her mind right now. She pressed her hips into him again, feeling the growing bulge beneath her. Studying would be the last thing on his mind if she had her way.
She rocked herself up and down his hardening length, playing with his hair, tugging at the nape of his neck. He would make the softest moans, the most rewarding sounds, which encouraged her to keep going. She tucked her fingers into his waistband, rubbing her thumbs against the dip of his obliques.
His hands fluttered against her, moving from her back to her thighs to her arms, with every move of her hips losing his mind a little more. Then she latched onto his neck, sucking hard, and he tensed forcefully.
“Shit,” he whispered, hissing through his teeth.
She felt the heat under her and rolled back a little, the wet of him leaking through the front of his pants. He’d come - because of her, because of this? Just from this? She was a little surprised - and a little proud.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, eyes blown wide.
Before she could reply, he was pushing her off his lap and gathering his things.
“Zayne, you don’t - you can stay, you don’t have to leave,” she said, confused.
“No, I need to go.”
“Wait - it’s okay, I don’t mind. Is it okay with you?”
“Yes,” he said, turning to look at her, a little desperate, his books askew, his hair a mess. “Yes. I just don’t think I can stop. If we keep-“ he shook his head, then turned again and left, disappearing out her front door.
She stared after him, confused. She didn’t want to stop.
-
ZAYNE: I’m sorry I left so suddenly last night.
ZAYNE: I hope I didn’t upset you.
ZAYNE: I think I left my glasses at your apartment.
-
She purposefully waited until the end of the day to head to his office. She didn’t want to walk through the slew of students and professors in the halls, or to interrupt meetings or appointments. His office door was open when she arrived, so she stepped in, glasses dangling from her fingers.
He was pulling on his coat, and stopped when he saw her. “Ah. You got my texts?” he asked. He came over, reaching for his glasses. “Thank y-”
But she pulled them out of his reach.
He paused, hand still outstretched.
Before he could say anything, she bumped the door shut with her hip and turned the lock, staring right at him. She unfolded his glasses and slid them on, peering at him through the lens.
”Wow. How did you see today without these?”
”I have my contacts in.”
She pushed them down and looked at him over the frame. “Are you embarrassed?”
His cheeks blushed a little, betraying him. “No.” He cleared his throat. “It’s perfectly natural.”
”Why didn’t you stay? Weren’t you having a good time?”
”I was having far too good of a time,” he said, one dry laugh escaping his lips.
She bit her lip. “Did I push too far?”
He curled his hands into fists. “No.” The word was strong, sitting in the air for a long moment. “No, you didn’t push too far. I’m sorry. I was afraid I might have made you think that.” He sighed, turning back to the window, running a hand over his hair. “I’m not sure how to explain it.”
”Zayne, I’m not a complicated woman,” she said. “You can just tell me yes or no. I won’t force you.”
He turned to face her and spoke firmly. ”I don’t think I could control myself if we started something. We haven’t even discussed it yet.”
She blinked at him. “I thought that was the discussion.”
Now it was his turn to blink at her, in disbelief. “That… was not a discussion.”
”I told you I wanted you,” she argued. “That’s enough.”
”This is what I meant when I said you’re not careful,” he chuckled, shrugging off his coat and setting it over the back of a chair. He stepped closer, speaking with his hands. “The assumption that others are interpreting actions in the same manner as you can lead to dangerous miscommunication. Simply outlining your expectations reduces relational strain, and- why are you looking at me like that?”
“This is like my archeology project all over again.”
”What?”
”You forced me to write an entire list of every single material I used in the model, and it wasn’t even required! That had nothing to do with the project!”
”If someone was curious about the project’s components, you needed to have a record of the components used. In cardiac surgery, every tool and resource used is indexed-”
”It was a second grade project, not a cardiac surgery.” She rolled her eyes.
”It’s just an example. Have you seen the surgical indexes? They can end up being dozens of pages long.”
”I want you to bend me over your desk.”
Zayne froze like he’d been struck.
She put her hand on her hip. “You want me to outline my expectations?” She moved closer, one slow, winding step at a time, and came to stand in front of him. She tucked his glasses into the collar of his shirt. “And I’d like you to do it now.”
He stared at her. “… Here?”
She swayed over to his desk, splaying her hands against the surface, and looked back over her shoulder at him, ass stuck out, eyelids low.
He approached her slowly at first, fumbling to get his glasses off his shirt, setting them on the far end of the desk. Then his big hand pressed against her back, pushing her chest to the desk. She laughed eagerly, feeling the way he positioned himself between her legs, leaning over her a little. His free hand set on the desk next to her face as he leaned towards her ear.
”My expectations,” he whispered, “are that you use me however you see fit. Anywhere-” he grabbed the hem of her dress and yanked it up to her ass. “Anytime.” His fingers ran over the edge of her panties on her asscheeks. “Simply ask me. Let me be yours.”
She giggled madly to herself, and gasped when he drew her panties down in one long sweep.
”Fuck,” she heard him swear. It sent shivers all the way down her legs. She could hear him unbuckling his belt, heard it hit the floor. Heard the zipper and felt his clothed length press against her ass.
”I’ll work you open first,” he whispered, bending near her ear again.
She clenched her fists, stomach knotting up at the words. “Why did you wait so long,” she moaned.
”I’ll make up for it,” he said, dropping to his knees behind her.
As soon as she felt his tongue on her heat she groaned loudly. Too loudly, and she bit down on her arm to stay quiet. His long, cold fingers wrapped around her thighs, spreading her apart, sinking her further onto his mouth. She cursed to herself. He worked his tongue up and down her folds, ministering to every inch, teething at her peak.
”Fuck, Zayne,” she murmured.
He hummed against her core, and she shuddered. Then she felt his finger sliding into her, and she moaned again, biting her arm harder. He curled against her sweet spot, making her knees buckle, her fingers gripping the edge of the desk until her knuckles were white. It wasn’t long before he slid a second finger in, stretching her out carefully.
She felt the cold air when he rocked back, pulling his fingers from her core and standing up. He pressed himself against her back, kissing her ear as he whispered, “Can you be a good girl and stay quiet?”
She moaned a yes.
He tugged at the zipper of her dress, baring a sliver of her skin to the cold air. Then he shifted his briefs down and she could feel the hot skin of him pressing against her. He slid against her folds a couple times, gathering her wetness, making her tingle all over.
“Are you ready?” he murmured.
She nodded.
“Tell me if it’s too much.”
She nodded again.
His tip pressed against her, then he pushed in slowly, stretching her open. She hadn’t even seen him, to get any idea or expectation, but there was a sort of addictive mystery to not knowing. She could feel the stretch of her walls, taking him in, feel the weight him inside her.
“Wait,” she breathed, clenching up too tightly around him. “Stop for a second.”
He did as she commanded, breath hot against her back. She took a couple deep breaths, but her body wouldn’t relax immediately. He didn’t seem to mind, pressing kisses gently to her shoulder blades.
“Okay,” she said, “keep going.”
He paused between kisses. “Are you sure?”
She nudged back against him in answer, and he pushed further in, pressing to every edge of her, filling her up entirely. Her head felt floaty at the sensation, and she exhaled shakily.
He pushed his hips against her carefully, hands moving to grab her waist, voice muffled against her back when he swore. “Fuck.”
“Zayne,” she moaned.
He slowly, gently, began to rock in and out of her, every sensation sending electricity down her spine. It was agony how slow he moved - she was never this patient. But then again, she’d never felt quite like this, pure bliss at each slow drag.
“Fuck, I’m not going to last long,” he muttered. “I’m sorry.”
She didn’t even try to respond - wasn’t sure if she could, especially when he trailed one hand around her hip and started to rub her clit, shockwaves pulsing through her. He moved faster, thrusting into her, rocking her against the desk.
“Ohh, right there,” she managed, feeling the coil in her stomach tighten. She was so close now, with the way he was working her clit, the way he pounded into her. He grabbed her thigh with his free hand and hiked her leg up, spreading her open further, and she felt it snap inside her. Her fingers dug into the edge of the desk, legs buckling, pressing her further back onto his cock. “Fuck- Zayne, fuck,” she swore, moaning through her orgasm, body shuddering.
He pinned her to the desk, pressing his chest to her back, thrusting in again and she felt his hips stutter. His hand clamped around hers, hiding her smaller hand completely. She felt him spill into her, thrusting unevenly, breaths tight and hitched.
He slowed to a stop, both of them catching their breath.
“You,” he started, between heaving breaths, “have very good ideas.”
“Yeah,” was all she managed.
He took a moment, then stood, slowly pulling free, redressing himself. She pushed herself off the desk, arms shaking, and twisted to reach her back zipper.
“Wait,” he interrupted, stopping her. He intercepted the task, carefully zipping her in and smoothing out the fabric. Then, like he couldn’t resist, he leaned down to kiss her neck, at first gentle, then open mouthed and wet.
“Didn’t get enough?” she teased.
He hooked his finger under the hem of her dress, pulling it back down while tracing the skin of her thighs. “I told you if we started…”
She laughed at him, pulling his hands free and twining her fingers with his, straightening her skirt with her other hand. “Next time can be… when you drive me home.”
He let go and turned to get his coat and grab his keys. “Well, I’m ready to leave when you are,” he said.
She was ready too, and followed him to the door. “Wait, don’t forget your glasses,” she laughed, running back to his desk to grab them.
He guided her out of his office with his hand on the small of her back, clicking the door shut behind them.