Work Text:
You blame the punch. There is no other reason you can convince yourself to believe for being on your knees in the vice president’s office, his cock filling your mouth and both his hands on the back of your head. You hadn’t even spoken directly to Mr. Laufeyson before tonight. You knew who he was, obviously. You’d been in the same room as him, maybe you’d made eye contact once, but that was it. And now somehow, you’re here with the carpet burning your knees and your green velvet skirt bunched up high on your thighs, sucking his cock as if your job depended on it.
It’s easier to blame the punch than the fact that you have been craving good sex for months and the man is practically sex in a suit or that the way he had looked at you from across the room like a fucking predator had your pussy tightening with excitement. If anyone ever asks, you’ll blame the punch and exaggerate how many cups you had.
“That’s a good girl,” he praises above you, fingertips pressing more firmly onto your scalp. He holds your head steady as he starts to thrust his hips. Your hands fall away from his slacks as you relax your throat as best you can, his undone belt rattling around his waist. You look up at him, eyes watering and saliva dripping down your chin as he fucks your mouth. “Such a pretty mouth.” Your fingers drift down between your legs, rubbing frantically at your clit through your wet panties. “What would everyone say if they could see you now?” he taunts. “Such a cliché. The office secretary sucking off the boss.” His eyes roll up for a moment as he groans and his hips lose their rhythm. He pulls your head back off of him quickly and you gasp for air.
You can hear a loud bout of laughter from the room down the hall where the holiday party is in full swing. You can only just hear the sounds of Christmas music drifting through the building too. The lights in his office are off, the blinds on the hall windows are drawn shut, but the ones to your left that overlook the city are wide open. You wonder briefly if the door is locked. You hadn’t been paying attention when you stumbled in, too preoccupied with the way his tongue licked at your neck and his hand groping you under your skirt. You can’t honestly say you care at the moment.
“Such an eager thing, are we?” he asks darkly, watching the way your hand is moving hastily beneath the velvet around your thighs. His thumb swipes once over your mouth and then again over your chin as he cradles it in his fingers, making sure you don’t look away from him. “Did sucking my cock get you wet?” All you manage is a strangled moan in response. He slides his thumb up, barely slipping it into your open mouth. You close your lips around it and suck. He chuckles before withdrawing. “Stand up,” he demands.
You have no words for him. Complete and ravenous lust has taken the ability to speak from you and all your body craves to do is follow his directions and hope he’ll be kind enough to ebb the ache. You put off all thoughts about how you’ll face your job come Monday morning and just listen to what your body wants.
“Such a good little girl,” he coos as you stand in front of him, your pussy already missing the touch of your fingers. He pulls you close, his hard cock nudging into the velvet as he kisses you roughly. He’s all tongue and teeth and firm hands palming your breasts. Your arm wrap around his neck, hands mussing his black hair that had been gelled for the occasion. You still don’t feel close enough to him. “Do you want fucked, my darling?” he whispers against your lips. You moan and twist your hands in his hair. “Where are your words?” he teases, pulling away just slightly.
“Please, Mr. Laufeyson,” you choke out.
“No need to be so formal,” he tells you, dipping his mouth down to your neck and sucking gently.
“Loki,” you breathe out heatedly, his name nothing more than a plea on your lips. It sounds wrong on your tongue to call him by his first name even now. “Please, sir,” you try again. He pulls away and for a moment you worry he’s displeased, but then a wicked smile comes to his lips.
“My desk,” he commands. “Bend over it.”
You do as he says, finding a spot mostly clear of papers and clutter so you can rest your forearms on it. Hinging at the waist, your skirt rides up a little more, your panties peeking out at him. He doesn’t bother to remove his clothes nor yours. He comes up behind you and hikes your skirt all the way up and over your ass. He reaches around your waist and pulls your wet panties to the side roughly, exposing your pussy for his cock.
“So wet,” he muses before lining himself up and edging the tip of his cock inside of you drawing a long moan from your mouth. He’s torturously slow, letting you feel every inch of him as he pushes inside of you. The strangled groans and heavy breaths that come from him tell you it’s as pleasurable for him as it is you. “Fuck, you feel good,” he tells you roughly. “So tight and hot around me.” He pushes until you’ve taken all of him in, your pussy clenching around his length. He runs his hand up your back, over the curve of your spine and you can feel the heat of his skin through your sweater. He pulls his hips back and snaps them forward quickly, pulling a choked moan from you. His hand slides up into your hair and pulls. “Let them hear you, pet,” he growls.
He fucks you hard and fast. There’s no slow start or build up. There’s no loving touches or words of admiration. His cock pounds into you and his hand tugs on your hair, arching your back for him. The only words said are dirty praise that make you keen into him and ache to pleasure him however he wants. He tells you he wants you to be loud, to let everyone know what a filthy slut you are for him and you can’t deny his demands.
“Such a good little girl,” he tells you, twisting his hand again. He pulls at your arm with his other hand and shoves it between your legs. “I want to feel you cum on my cock,” he hisses. “Play with your clit and make yourself cum for me.” Your fingers are rubbing at yourself before he even finishes talking. You find a rhythm to match his thrusts and it doesn’t take long before you feel yourself on the edge. “That’s a good girl,” he encourages as you moan louder. “Let me hear it. I want to hear how bad you want it.” Words are still hard to form, but your moan turns into a cry as you feel yourself snap with release. “That’s it,” he coaxes, slowing his thrusts to let you relax, but never stopping. “You feel so fucking good.”
You’re breathing heavily, mind still cloudy and pussy still tingling. Your heart hammers against your chest and you lick your lips, finding yourself still craving him. You want him to feel the pleasure you did. You want to make him feel good.
“Loki,” you say his name, words finally starting to make their way back to you. “I want you to cum inside of me.” His hips sputter and he chuckles behind you, starting to pick up the pace of his thrusts again.
“Is that what you want?” he teases. “Good little girl wants to be filled up?” You groan again, letting yourself collapse on the desk, arms too weak to hold you up. He lets you put your cheek against the wood, but doesn’t let go of your hair.
“Please,” you beg. “Cum inside me. I want to feel you.”
“You’re going to walk back into that party full of my cum.” He’s no longer asking. He’s telling you. “Your pretty little pussy is going to be so full it’s dripping.” His desk rattles with each thrust as they get harder and faster. “Such a good little slut.”
You hear the knob of his office door twist open and hear a man say Loki’s name before taking in the scene in front of him. You can’t see who it is and though your initial reaction is panic, Loki presses your cheek down harder into his desk and refuses to stop fucking you. In fact, his groans grow louder and more strangled, his thrust more erratic. It spurs a pleasure deep inside of you and threatens to wind you up again. The intruder stumbles back and closes the door with a quick apology, leaving you two to finish.
“Now they’re all going to know how much of a slut you are,” he tells you. “The whole office is going to hear about how you got fucked by the boss.” Your pussy involuntarily tightens around him. “I’m going to cum,” he warns. Your hand reaches back to his thigh and you push your ass back to him.
“Do it,” you say. “Fill me up.”
One hand fisting your hair and the other holding your hip with a bruising grip, he gives one final thrust into you and holds you steady, loud broken moans spilling from him as cums deep inside of you. You let out a satisfied moan, closing your eyes and taking in the way he feels against you and inside you.
“Fuck,” he curses dryly, body relaxing against you. His hand releases your hair and his pulls turn to gentle strokes to ease the remaining sting. He leans over you and there’s a soft press of his lips between your shoulder blades before he withdraws, both of you groaning softly.
It’s not until you’ve readjusted your panties and skirt and he’s tucking himself back inside his suit pants that your logical mind catches up with you.
“Who was it?” you ask. He looks at you, seemingly confused by the question for a moment before his own brain can think again.
“Oh, it was just my brother,” he says casually, moving to fix the tie around his neck.
“Thor?” you cry in disbelief. “The president of the company?” Oh god, this was so stupid. Mind-blowing and amazing, yes, but so stupid. “I’m so fucking fired,” you mutter to yourself, burying your face in your hands. Loki simply laughs.
“Ironically, you’re the one with the power here,” he advises evenly. “I’m your superior. You could file sexual harassment, sexual abuse, abuse of power, and a list of other charges if you so wanted.” You take a chance to look at him and his stare back to you is heated still, as though your little tryst together did nothing more than sprinkle water droplets onto a raging flame. “Of course, that would mean you wouldn’t want to do this again.”
You’re still not in the right state of mind to think this through. Your body is still humming and you’re not entirely unconvinced that you wouldn’t drop to your knees again right now if he told you to. You need to let the lust dissipate in full before you open your mouth.
“Either way, I assure you my brother won’t breathe a word of this to anyone.” He smirks and retrieves his suit jacket from the floor. “He doesn’t want to have to deal with a scandal.”
“Good,” you sigh in relief mostly to yourself.
He walks up to you, careful to make sure you’re not going to push him away, and presses a kiss to your lips softer than any other that night. He pulls away sooner than you wish and walks to his office door, pulling it open.
“I’ll see you Monday morning.”