Late Night Office Temptation

**Late Friday** The office was empty except for the hum of the AC and the sharp click of Prachi’s heels as she gathered her things. She was halfway out the door when Abhi’s voice stopped her. “Stay.” One word, rough with whiskey and frustration. She turned. His tie was loose, his jaw tight—leftover anger from the fight with his wife still simmering in his eyes. Prachi hesitated, but the way he looked at her—like he wanted to wreck something—made her pulse jump. “You heard me,” he growled. She stepped back inside, locking the door behind her. Abhi didn’t wait. He crossed the room in three strides, backing her against the desk. His hands were rough as they shoved her skirt up, fingers digging into her thighs. “Tell me to stop,” he muttered against her neck. She didn’t. His mouth crashed into hers, all teeth and heat, while his fingers tore at her panties. She gasped as they ripped away, his grip bruising as he spread her legs wider. “Fuck,” he hissed, sliding two fingers inside her. “You’re already wet.” Prachi arched into his touch, nails scraping his shoulders. She could taste the whiskey on his tongue, feel the tension in his body—every bit of anger redirected into raw, hungry need. He didn’t bother undressing. Just unbuckled his belt, shoved his pants down, and pushed into her with one brutal thrust. Prachi cried out, her back hitting the desk as he fucked her like he hated her—like he needed her.

Abhi’s hands gripped her hips hard enough to leave marks, his thrusts deep and punishing. But then—something shifted. The anger in his movements melted into something hotter, darker. His mouth found hers again, but this time it wasn’t just teeth—it was slow, devouring. Prachi moaned into the kiss, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. He groaned against her lips, his pace slowing just enough to drag every inch of him against her, drawing out the friction until her thighs trembled. “Look at me,” he demanded, voice rough. She obeyed, meeting his gaze—his eyes were black with want, no trace of anger left. He cupped her face, thumb brushing her lower lip before sliding it into her mouth. She sucked instinctively, and he cursed, hips snapping forward again, harder. “That’s it,” he growled. “Take it.” Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper as he bent her back over the desk. Papers scattered, pens clattering to the floor—neither of them cared. His hands roamed her body now, possessive but reverent, like he was memorizing every curve. When his mouth closed over her nipple through the thin fabric of her blouse, she arched with a gasp. The heat between them was unbearable, intoxicating. “Abhi—” she choked out, nails digging into his back. He answered with a thrust that stole her breath, his name a broken plea on her lips.

Abhi’s grip softened just enough to trace the curve of her waist, his fingers trailing fire as they slid up her ribs. He pulled back just slightly—enough to strip her blouse open, buttons scattering—before his mouth claimed her bare skin. Prachi gasped as his tongue flicked over her nipple, teeth grazing just enough to make her hips jerk. He chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating against her breast before he sucked hard, drawing a ragged moan from her throat. His free hand tangled in her hair, tilting her head back as he kissed down her neck, slower now, savoring. “You taste fucking perfect,” he murmured against her pulse. She whimpered when his fingers found her clit again, circling with deliberate pressure—not rough, but relentless. Every stroke matched the slow, deep roll of his hips, dragging her closer to the edge with agonizing precision. “I want to hear you,” he breathed into her ear, nipping the lobe. “Every sound.” Prachi shattered with a cry, her body clamping around him as he fucked her through it, his own groan muffled against her shoulder. He didn’t stop—just kept moving, his rhythm turning almost tender as he chased his own release. When he finally came, it was with her name on his lips, his forehead pressed to hers, their breaths mingling in the charged silence.

Prachi’s fingers traced lazy circles down Abhi’s sweat-slicked chest, her touch featherlight but deliberate. She could feel the way his muscles tensed under her fingertips, his breath hitching as she dragged her nails lower—just above the waistband of his pants. His grip tightened on her hip, a warning. “You’re playing with fire.” She smirked, pressing a slow kiss to his collarbone before sliding down his body, her lips trailing lower. “Good.” Abhi’s jaw clenched as she undid his belt with practiced ease, her fingers brushing against the hard length straining against his zipper. He groaned when she finally freed him, her tongue flicking over the tip before she took him deep, hollowing her cheeks. His hands fisted in her hair, not forcing—just holding, like he needed the anchor. “Fuck, Prachi—” She hummed around him, the vibration drawing a ragged curse from his lips. Her pace was slow, torturous, every lick and suck designed to unravel him. When she pulled back, her lips glistening, she met his darkened gaze. “My turn,” she whispered, climbing back into his lap. Abhi didn’t hesitate—he flipped her onto her back, pinning her wrists as he kissed her hard. “You win,” he growled against her mouth. She arched beneath him, grinning. “I know.”

Abhi’s grip on her wrists tightened as Prachi dragged him through her apartment door, their mouths still locked in a feverish kiss. The second the door slammed shut, he shoved her against it, hands sliding under her thighs to lift her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, grinding against the hard ridge of his cock through his pants. “Bedroom,” she gasped between kisses, nails digging into his shoulders. He carried her down the hall, kicking the bedroom door open before tossing her onto the mattress. She barely had time to breathe before he was on her, ripping her skirt off in one rough tug. His mouth crashed back onto hers as he shoved her thighs apart, fingers sliding through her slick folds. “Fuck, you’re soaked,” he growled, dragging his tongue along her neck. Prachi arched, hooking a leg over his hip. “Stop teasing.” Abhi smirked, lining himself up before slamming into her in one brutal thrust. She cried out, back bowing as he set a punishing pace, each snap of his hips driving her deeper into the mattress. “Harder,” she demanded, clawing at his back. He obliged, gripping her hips hard enough to bruise as he fucked her into the sheets, the bedframe slamming against the wall. Every ragged breath, every filthy moan—she gave him exactly what he wanted. And he took it all.

Abhi’s grip tightened on her wrists as he dragged her up, spinning her toward the desk with a rough shove. Prachi barely caught herself on the edge, her breath hitching as his palm smacked down on her ass—sharp, stinging, delicious. He bent her over, his cock pressing against her slick folds before driving into her with one brutal thrust. She gasped, fingers scrambling against the wood as he fucked her hard, each snap of his hips punching a moan from her throat. His teeth grazed her shoulder, his hand tangling in her hair to yank her head back. “Look at you,” he growled, his other hand groping her breast, thumb circling her nipple before pinching hard. Prachi whimpered, arching into his touch as he leaned down, sucking her nipple into his mouth—hot, wet, relentless. The dual sensation of his lips and his cock pounding into her had her trembling, her thighs shaking as pleasure coiled tight in her belly. “Abhi—” His name tore from her lips, ragged and desperate. He bit down on her breast, his pace turning punishing. “Come for me.”