Billionaire Cashback System: I Can't Go Broke!

He did slow just enough to let her breathe, then started again – deep, grinding strokes that kept her right on the edge.

The desk creaked louder now, protesting under the force of it. Papers from the IRS folder were scattered across the floor around them, completely forgotten. The outside lights across the windows were painting her body in shifting gold and blue.

"You’re so fucking tight when you come," he growled, leaning down to kiss her hard, messy, tasting the desperation on her tongue. "It’s funny. Still trying to act like you’re in control while I’m buried inside you."

Diana moaned into his mouth, legs trembling on his shoulders. "I can’t – Ryan, I can’t think – "

"Good." He straightened up again, gripping her thighs harder, driving in deeper. "You don’t need to think. You just need to take it."

He kept the pace punishing – long, powerful strokes that made her tits bounce and her bound wrists press harder into the wood.

Every thrust punched the air out of her lungs. Her moans turned into sobs of pleasure, raw and helpless. The glasses finally slid off her nose and landed on her chest, still attached to the chain she sometimes wore but never used. Ryan left them there, loving the way they looked against her flushed skin.

He felt her climbing again, faster this time, walls fluttering wildly around him.

"Come again," he ordered, thumb finding her clit once more. "Right now. While I’m still inside you."

Diana came harder the second time – back bowing, a loud, guttural cry tearing out of her, pussy clamping down so tight Ryan had to grit his teeth to keep going.

Her legs shook on his shoulders. Tears slipped down her temples. The silk tie around her wrists was damp with sweat now, her hands flexing uselessly beneath her.

Ryan fucked her through every wave, relentless, until the last tremor faded and she was left limp and gasping on the desk, chest heaving, suit completely disheveled.

But he still wasn’t done.

He eased her legs down from his shoulders, hooked them around his waist instead, and leaned over her, forearms braced on the desk on either side of her head. Face to face now. Close enough to see every detail – the smeared mascara under her eyes, the flush across her chest, the way her lips were swollen from earlier.

"You feel so Good Diana," he whispered against her mouth, starting to move again – slower now but still deep, still intense. "My investment. And I’m not pulling out until I’m sure you feel it."

Diana’s bound hands flexed behind her. Her voice was wrecked, barely more than a whisper.

"Then don’t."

Ryan smiled against her lips and thrust deep, setting a new rhythm that promised the night was nowhere near over.

The desk creaked louder under them now, a steady protest of wood and metal as he drove into her again and again.

Slow at first, almost teasing, letting her feel every thick inch sliding out and then slamming back in until her ass lifted off the polished surface.

Diana’s legs stayed locked around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back, pulling him closer even while her bound wrists pressed uselessly into the wood beneath her.

The silk tie was damp with sweat, the knot holding firm.

"Even now are you still trying to run the numbers in your head?" he murmured, voice rough against her ear. He ground his hips in a slow circle, pressing right against that spot inside her that made her whole body jerk. "Tell me what the ROI feels like right now, Diana. Tell me how good the investment is."

She let out a shaky laugh that dissolved into a moan when he thrust hard again. "Ryan – fuck – you’re impossible – "

"Yeah? But you’re still taking it." He straightened up a little, gripping her thighs tighter, spreading her wider so he could watch himself disappear inside her.

The sight was filthy – her expensive skirt bunched around her waist, panties shoved to the side, pussy stretched tight around his cock, glistening every time he pulled back.

Her jacket had fallen open completely, blouse half-unbuttoned, tits bouncing with every deep stroke. The reading glasses sat crooked on her chest now, fogged and useless, and her hair was a complete mess, strands sticking to her damp forehead and cheeks.

He picked up the pace again, relentless, hips snapping forward so the wet slap of skin on skin echoed off the glass walls. The outside lights kept flickering across her body – gold and blue shifting over her flushed skin, over the faint red marks his fingers had left on her thighs earlier.

Every thrust made the desk shift another inch across the carpet. Papers from the IRS folder crinkled under her back. A pen rolled off the edge and clattered somewhere on the floor.

Diana’s head tipped back, mouth open, a broken whimper slipping out with every deep stroke. "I can’t – Ryan, I’m gonna – again – "

"Come on then," he growled, leaning over her, forearms braced on either side of her head so he could look straight down into her eyes.

She came hard – back arching clean off the wood, a loud, raw cry tearing out of her that she didn’t even try to hold back this time.

Her pussy clamped down around him in tight, pulsing waves, milking his cock so intensely he had to grit his teeth. Her legs shook violently around his waist, heels digging in harder, and she soaked him, the wet sounds turning obscene as he kept fucking her straight through it.

Ryan didn’t slow down until the last tremor finally faded and she was left limp and gasping beneath him, chest heaving, eyes glassy behind the crooked glasses.

Only then did he let himself go.

He buried himself to the hilt one last time, hips stuttering as the pressure snapped.

A low, guttural groan ripped out of him while he came hard inside her – thick, hot pulses that filled her completely.

He kept thrusting through it, shallow and greedy, making sure every drop stayed deep while her walls fluttered around him like she was trying to keep him there forever.

When it finally ebbed he stayed buried inside her, forehead pressed to hers, both of them breathing hard in the quiet office. Sweat slicked their skin.

Diana’s voice came out small and wrecked, barely more than a whisper. "We’re... we’re going to have to clean this desk before the cleaning crew gets here."

Ryan laughed softly against her mouth, still inside her, still feeling the aftershocks. "Yeah. Later." He kissed her slow, deep, tasting the exhaustion and the need and everything they’d just done. "Right now I’m not done auditing you yet."

He stayed like that for a long moment, hands stroking down her sides, feeling the way she trembled under him. The silk tie around her wrists. The rumpled suit.

The glasses still hanging crooked on her chest. The powerful woman who controlled millions, completely undone on her own desk.

And Ryan wasn’t done.