“Do you like watching me fuck you, Emma? Do you like being filled up with my cock?” I pinch her nipple and her eyes flutter closed. “Do you want me to record how you look riding me, so you can see how well you take every inch like the good fucking girl you are?”

She comes first. Always. I can tell she’s almost there; she cries out, tightening around me, walls convulsing around my dick, unable to answer my question.

One final swipe over her clit and she’s exploding, words muddled as she gasps for air. I bite my lip, wanting to call out her name. Scream it from the rooftops and declare her mine to anyone who will listen. Five more thrusts inside her sweet, tight temple and I’m done, body draping over hers as I finish, my legs shaking as my release continues for several seconds.

Wiping the sweat off my forehead, I take a moment to collect myself. I hear a giggle, and finally open my eyes. Emma’s staring at me, and I feel self-conscious under her eye.

“Yes?” I ask, wincing as I retreat out of her, settling back on my shins and waiting for her to speak.

“I like bedroom Henry. Bedroom Henry is hot.”

“Is regular Henry not hot?”

“Oh, he is. Very much so.” Her arms circle my neck, chest pressing against mine. “But regular Henry would never come up to me in the office and say he wants to… What was it? Take my ass.”

“Maybe regular Henry will pin you against your office wall, hike your skirt up, and fuck you right there, using your underwear as a gag since you don’t like to be quiet,” I retort. “And then he’ll make you sit in your chair all day without cleaning up, so you can feel the remnants of what you asked for on your legs for hours after.”

“If you’re trying to scare me, it’s not working.”

“I’ll add it to the list of Emma Fantasies I’m keeping a thorough record of.”

“Speaking of… Yikes, this is kind of awkward to talk about. I’m clean.”

“I am, too. I got tested a month ago.”

“You haven’t been with anyone since?” she asks curiously.

Not since the very first email.

“Nope.”

“Really?”

“Really, Emma.”

“I… I thought maybe you just weren’t bringing people to the office anymore, but you might still be hooking up with people other places.”

I cradle her cheek against my palm. “No one. Not a single one. For months,” I say fiercely.

She blinks and looks away, sniffing as she breaks our eye contact. “I had no idea.”

“Now you do. Are you on birth control?”

“I am, and clearly I’m not sleeping with anyone else if my years-long dry spell isn’t enough proof. Maybe next time, it can just be you and me? No condoms?”