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"I'm sure I don't need to tell you where to go from here, he should be in his office." Yvonne smiles up at her with a knowing warmth in her eyes.
"Ah. Right, of course." She blushes and ducks her head after signing in, picking up the care package she had brought with her to the hospital. She balances the tea latte on top of the pastry box and swivels towards the hallway, making her way to Zayne's door. Tonight wasn't so different than any other evening for the two of them; both working late and managing to miss a planned date. She had called him, abashedly prepared to explain herself and ask for forgiveness when his soft voice had answered with his own apology.
"A patient is being transferred to another hospital. I'm concerned that his charts aren't telling the whole story, so I need to go through them with a fine-toothed comb before he arrives for his surgery at Chansia City." Some of the words were muffled and she had imagined Zayne sliding his hand over his mouth to stifle a yawn.
"Oh. To be completely honest-" She had started to come clean herself, before he cut her off.
"You just finished a mission and need to put together the reports." He had guessed, the interruption tinged with hopeful mirth.
"Yeah…" She had sighed. A beat passed between them before she chuckled. "So much for the pop-up patisserie…"
"There will be others, and I admit I feel a little less guilty knowing you're in the same boat as me. They do say misery loves company, but I can't consider myself miserable if you're my company."
Her cheeks heat slightly as she recalls the exchange. It had fuelled her through her report writing and kept her warm as she had travelled home, taking a new side street and enjoying the crisp spring air at night. That was where she had found it: a second location for the very pop-up that they had planned on visiting. This one was out of the way, much less busy, and most importantly: open 24 hours a day.
She could barely believe her eyes as she stepped in, greeted by the scent of fresh cream and butter. She had gleefully picked out an assortment of seasonal novelty pastries and two drinks while formulating her surprise.
Now, she approaches his door, anticipating his soft smile as he takes a bite, imagining the way that the fatigue will melt from his face as he enjoys the pastries with her. Her wrist raises to rap on the door, movements buoyed with the soft joy of sharing her love in a small, tangible way.
There's no answer.
Her brows furrow and she knocks once more, a little more assertively.
No answer.
She's sure that Yvonne had said he was in here. In any case, she was a familiar sight and if no one was answering that also meant there weren't any coworkers or patients in the office. She opens the door softly, peering in for traces of her Zayne.
The lights are set low, but the lamp on the desk is on. It casts soft, warm light over Zayne's sleeping figure. His head rests on his forearms, and his back rises slowly and steadily with his breaths. His sleeves are rolled up to the elbows and his coat is slung over the back of the chair. Her gut twists a little to see him overworked, but a tender fondness also sits in her heart knowing he wouldn't have it any other way.
She approaches the desk with soft footsteps, trying to sneak in and leave him the snacks as a surprise gift for when he wakes up. She's so focused on her own feet that she doesn't notice a bleary hazel eye peering out from beneath his dark hair, tracking her progress to the desk.
She steps gingerly, placing the box and cup in front of Zayne on the desk. Her lips purse as she picks up and moves the cup a couple times, trying to decide where the safest location is in case Zayne moves in his sleep. A soft scoff comes from the desk and she jumps, nearly spilling the tea.
Zayne turns his head; still lying on his forearm, but his face is now nestled into the crook of his elbow so she can see the slight smirk on his lips as he looks up at her with drowsy eyes.
"Am I having a dream? The pastry fairy that my mind has conjured looks an awful lot like my beautiful sweetheart." His voice is thick with sleep. He licks his lips as he looks pointedly at the box of pastries, then back to her.
"Do you want me to wake you up by spilling hot - well, warm - tea all over you?" She chastises him and rolls her eyes before plopping down into the seat opposite his desk. She takes a sip of his drink out of spite as he stretches his neck and straightens back up to sitting. His hand reaches out and she hands him the drink, watching him smile as he takes a sip. He closes his eyes in appreciation, and nods at her.
"It's delicious." He holds it up to look at the cup-sleeve, eyebrows bouncing in surprise as he recognizes the logo for the pop-up. He looks at her questioningly while taking another sip.
A triumphant smile washes over her features, "I found a second location!"
She nods towards the pastry box, emblazoned with the same logo, "But I didn't want to eat them alone. I thought you could use a pick-me-up."
"It's not good to make your glucose spike so late at night," he teases, placing the cup back down on his desk. It's almost empty already; despite his medical advice, he couldn't resist a sweet treat. Zayne stands, walking around the desk to lean over her back, nuzzling against her neck as he whispers, "Besides, seeing you is the only pick-me-up I need."
A shiver runs up her spine as his warm breath heats her skin. Her head tilts slightly to give him better access as he presses a gentle kiss to her neck, hands sliding over her shoulders. Her breaths shudder out of her. Zayne takes it as encouragement, fingers sliding beneath her arms to pull her up to standing. His lips never leave her skin, kissing and gently sucking against her pulse as he manoeuvres her to stand. Zayne's hips press against her, guiding her to lean forward against the desk.
She follows his wordless instructions, stretching onto her tiptoes and turning her head to kiss him. Zayne's hands roam her body as he devours her lips; taking her into himself hungrily. She tastes the remnants of sleep on his tongue as it delves into her mouth, claiming her assertively. Zayne gasps for air between kisses, as if he was drowning in her and he forgot how to breathe. His movements are languid and soft but with an undercurrent of desperation. Large hands cup her breasts, sliding down to her waist to raise the hem of her shirt up and over her head.
Zayne's cool fingers trace reverent patterns over her back as they make their way to the clasp on her bra. She shoots a furtive look to the door, suddenly realizing how exposed she is and trying to remember if she had locked the door on her way in.
The bra comes undone and slides off her shoulder with a soft rustle in the quiet room. Zayne's hands trace over her skin, one hand wrapping around to gently circle her nipple with his finger. Her toes flex in her shoes at the sensation and she bites back a gasp.
"Zayne, we shouldn't, not when Yvonne is-!" She has to bite down on her lip to hold in the whimper that bubbles from her throat as he pinches her nipple.
"Shh…" He hushes her, kissing below her ear before whispering, "If that's the case, we'll need to be very quiet, won't we?"
She arches back against him, grinding against the growing hardness in his pants. He holds onto her, fingers sliding down her sides and slipping beneath her skirt. He hikes the fabric up around her waist and slips one hand into the front of her panties. Cool fingertips find her clit and trace back and forth over the sensitive nub while he grinds his bulge against her ass, pinning her against the desk.
Her fingers grasp for purchase on the desk, catching on scribbled notes and crumpling them against her palm. She squeezes her eyes closed, mouth set in a tight line to stop from crying out. She dwells on the sensations across her body: the firm desk below her, soft lips on her shoulder and neck, cool breaths down her back, firm fingers squeezing her hip as he holds her in place, precise fingers stroking with intention between her thighs, and the hardness of Zayne's own desire pressed against her from behind where it patiently twitches through his pants.
Her knees wobble, thighs clenching closed around Zayne's wrist and making her lean more weight against her hands where they brace against the desk. A shuddering breath carries a soft moan as she tries to catch herself. Zayne's hand moves up the front of her body from her waist, his other fingers delving deeper between her pussy lips. He grasps her chin and turns her head up towards his face, silencing her with a hungry kiss.
"Quiet." The soft command is breathy but firm. Her eyes are wide as she nods, barely breathing. She swallows hard against the firm hand that barely grazes her throat. Zayne's eyes are dark and smug as he looks down at her through his lower lashes, lips quirking almost imperceptibly.
"Very good." His voice is low with desire, and she feels it ripple over her senses. She clenches around nothing.
He withdraws his fingers from between her legs slowly, thumb catching on the waistband of her panties and pulling them down and away from her dripping core. The elastic squeezes a tight band against her thighs, and they balloon slightly over the top. He doesn't bother to take them all the way off, instead he unfastens his own pants and lets his cock hit against her ass with a soft smack.
Zayne hunches over her, his large frame encompassing hers as his lips trail kisses down the line of her shoulder. His fingers return to toy with her sensitive bundle of nerves as his hips rut against her. He holds her head still with long fingers, delicately framing the column of her throat.
Her eyelashes flutter and she squeezes her eyes shut, pursing her lips to hold in her groans of pleasure. One escapes; it sounds impossibly loud in the open space of the office, echoing off of books and furniture and back into her own ears somehow amplified. Her cheeks burn with embarrassment.
Zayne tuts softly into her skin as his lips find their way back to her ear. The heat of her flushed skin contrasts so drastically with the chill of his breath, Zayne's excitement allowing control of his EVOL to slip slightly and chill his skin.
"Do I need to give you something to keep you quiet?" The soft offer is punitive but teasing. She shudders, both from the cool air on her hot skin, and from anticipation of his punishment. She swallows hard, feeling his fingers flex softly against her neck. She nods once.
Long fingers slide gently up to cup her chin. Two of them pull down her lower lip and press into her waiting mouth. Her tongue swirls over the digits instinctively and he bucks his hips slightly in response, breath hitching.
Zayne positions himself to slide between her thighs, holding her face with his large hand as she sucks on his fingers. His forehead rests against her shoulder as he draws back and forth; the apex of each gentle thrust pulling the head of his cock against her swollen clit.
Her fingers dig into the desk for support, squirming to push back against him as he pins her in place. Her lips remain firmly closed around his fingers, muffling her soft moans of pleasure. Zayne mumbles quiet praises into her skin, his own grip tightening to betray his tenuous grasp on his self-control.
He pulls back once more and reaches between them, fingers parting her swollen folds and lining his cock up with her entrance. He shushes her once more for emphasis before pressing into her, ever so slowly.
Her walls quiver around him, anticipating that fullness she so desires. But it doesn't come. Instead, Zayne withdraws tortuously slowly until just the tip remains teasing at her entrance. She stifles a sob, chest heaving once in frustration. Zayne shushes her again, letting her clench and twitch at the absence of him before pushing back into her; once more it is tortuously slow.
She feels every inch as he fills her, pleasurable tingles racing up her spine. This time Zayne pushes about halfway before withdrawing; the drag of him along her desperate inner walls makes her eyes water slightly and she tries to push back against him to prevent the inevitable. His grip tightens, a silent threat.
Outside, footsteps pass by the door. Low murmurs of voices season their conversation with unintelligible medical jargon as they make their way back from surgery. She holds her breath, freezing. Her heart hammers in her ears and she can swear they'll hear it from the hallway and come to investigate why Doctor Zayne is inducing cardiac stress in his patients.
They don't, and the voices fade with the footsteps leaving her in the heavy silence of their syncopated breaths. She doesn't even realizes how tense she is until Zayne moves her head back to face him, saliva coated fingers sliding out from between her lips as he ghosts a kiss over her lips before replacing them.
The breath she was holding deflates in her chest as she relaxes, letting him resume his agonizing movements; pushing slightly further each time only to withdraw. Her walls tense and clench around him, aching for sensation. Finally, she feels his hips press flush against her ass and lets out a full body sigh of relief. Zayne's lips hover beneath her chin and kiss her softly in praise.
After all this, she's wound so tightly that when Zayne finally thrusts into her properly she all but comes undone around him; legs quivering, eyes squeezing, teeth gently biting down on his stifling fingers. He holds her upright, slowly continuing to fuck her with long, deep strokes.
Her hands cramp, gripping the edge of the desk as her orgasm crests, steadily building into the next. After so much agonizing teasing, the pleasure thrills through her, melting her coherent thoughts into mush as she folds over. A rag-doll in his strong arms.
She feels him twitch inside her; his pace becoming uneven but no less punishing. Puffs of cool air crystallize ice shards in her hair as he leans over her. She's merely along for the ride as the head of his cock nudges against that sensitive spot inside her, making her spasm around him again.
The overhead fan turns on, and she notices that the thermostat in the room is lit green indicating that the temperature is outside the control parameters. She scoffs around Zayne's fingers; she can't even tell if its blowing hot or cold air over her between her own warm body and Zayne's freezing breath playing games with her senses. Droplets of cold sweat spatter against her bare back as Zayne thrusts into her, harder now. The sound of his hips smacking against her bare ass is drowned out by the din of the air conditioner and he thrusts one final time.
Zayne pulls her against him, scarred arms tightening around her waist and chest. His fingers leave her mouth and his lips find hers; desperate and hungry. He whispers her name against her lips as he comes with a shudder and a gasp. She takes all of it into her; hands no longer supporting her now free to lay atop his and twine her fingers into his.
They come down with heaving breaths and chagrined smiles. She turns to look up at him through her eyelashes; mild embarrassment still colouring her cheeks as the ramifications of their tryst flash through her mind.
Zayne kneels in front of her; pulling over a box of tissues and cleaning her up with soft touches. He presses a gentle kiss to her inner thigh, hazel eyes twinkling from between her legs. He moves closer, another kiss. His hand repositions and begins to lift her thigh.
She's about to protest when they're interrupted by a beep. She freezes, eyes wide with confusion and horror as she looks back down at Zayne. His lips fold into a slight downward pout as he pulls his pager off his belt and checks the message. He sighs in disappointment, the heavy breath pushing cool air over her exposed cunt. She shivers and watches as he stands.
"I suppose I can enjoy eating the rest of my dessert later." Mirth twinkles in his eyes as he reaches past her to snag one of the pastries from the box. He takes a bite and the flaky pastry crunches between his teeth, cream dripping onto his lower lip. He holds eye contact as his tongue slips out and licks the droplet of cream suggestively.
She swats at him and pulls up her underwear, folding her skirt back down her thighs. She lets out a flustered puff of air as Zayne kisses her forehead, letting a few crumbs fall into her hair, and turns back towards the door to answer the pager. She brushes them out of her hair and shakes her head as he opens the unlocked door, pausing momentarily to raise his eyebrow a fraction of an inch. He looks back over his shoulder at her and smirks, letting the door fall closed behind him.