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Graves tried not to pant too much as he was bent over his desk, but it was really hard to do with hands on his hips and a hard dick rutting against his ass. “Oz?” he said, his voice a low, drawn out groan.
He pushed back against Oz with his hips and was rewarded with a sound of approval. “Boss,” he replied so that Graves didn’t think he was ignoring him.
His hands on his hips were squeezing so hard that they’d likely leave finger shaped bruises, but Graves didn’t care. He stood up straight and started undoing his belt while Oz pressed kisses to the back of his shoulder.
“You locked the door, right?” Graves asked. The last thing he wanted was for some Shadow to wander in here unannounced and see their second in command fucking their boss.
Oz could see the door from here. The deadbolt was engaged in the correct position to indicate that it was locked. No one could get in without keys, and the only ones with the keys to Graves’ office were the two of them.
“Affirmative, sir,” he said.
“Good. I really need this…”
Everything that could go wrong lately was going wrong. Shadow Company was facing scrutiny over their actions in Las Almas. Shepherd had fucked him over, throwing Graves completely under a bus by pretending Shadow Company had gone rogue and weren’t acting on his direct orders and pulling a large chunk of their funding on the way out, forcing them to find it from other backers. Worse, Graves had to personally notify the families of several of his men that they weren’t coming home thanks to Soap and Ghost, and to someone who cared about every employee on his payroll, Graves was most angry about that above all.
He just needed a few minutes to stop thinking about things so he could process everything that was going wrong. Oz was more than happy to help him with that.
Oz pulled Graves’ pants down his thighs, exposing him to the cold air of the room. He wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked it, spreading precum down his shaft, making it slicker with each pass of his hand. Graves pressed his hips back against the bulge in the front of Oz’s pants and whimpered.
“C’mon, Oz,” he panted. His Texan accent almost sounded thicker the more he pleaded. “I need you to put it in!”
“Patience, boss,” Oz said before flipping Graves over and lifting him onto the desk and coaxing him onto his back.
He pinned him by his hips, pulling his pants down further until they were bunched up around his ankles, his boots preventing him from pulling them off further. Graves was staring at the ceiling, eyes focused on the fan above his desk as he tried to steady his breathing. One of Oz’s hands entwined with his, the other wrapping around his thigh, pulling it back to make room for him between them.
Oz kissed the inside of his thigh, along bite marks and bruises in varying stages of healing, his beard tickling the sensitive skin there. He sank his teeth in, leaving another bruise among the crowd as evidence of what they’d done that night. Graves hissed and a hand fell to the back of his head, running through his hair as he gave his approval.
“Fuck,” Graves sighed. He kept his gaze centered on the fan as a tongue dragged from his balls to his tip. “Fffuck,” he moaned, his thigh muscles tightening reflexively.
Oz teased the tip with his tongue before swallowing the head. Graves clamped a hand over his mouth to muffle a sob, his head hitting the desk as it fell backwards. Oz’s mouth sank down until he could feel the tip at the back of his throat and then kept swallowing until he was gagging on it.
Oz let go of Graves’ hand, undoing his own pants and freeing his cock while he continued to eat his boss’s. He felt around the side of the desk until his fingers touched the handle of a drawer and pulled it out. He rifled through it, feeling around inside until Graves took pity on him and helped him find what he was feeling around for, pulling out the bottle of lube he kept in there for situations like this.
“I should give you a fucking raise,” Graves said before moaning at the way his tongue felt as it dragged up the side of his dick.
His dick fell out of Oz’s mouth with an obscene pop and felt heavy without his mouth supporting it. Oz grabbed his legs, hoisting them against his shoulders, ankles still tangled in his pants legs as he readjusted them. Graves whimpered at the cold air on his spit-slickened member, his head falling back and hitting the desk once more when two of Oz’s lube-soaked fingers sank into his ass up to his knuckles.
“Oh fuck…” he groaned, his back arching against the desk. He fell back down with a thud, his breath heavy as Oz scissored him open.
“Think you can take all of me?” Oz asked.
He licked Graves’ cock, which was rock hard and standing at attention. Both of Graves’ hands went to the back of his head and tried to force his mouth back down on him. He let out a sob when Oz resisted, instead pressing a kiss to his hip.
“Patience, boss,” Oz said.
He inserted another finger into Graves, pushing his fingers in deeper. His other hand went between his own thighs, spreading lube on his cock as he stroked himself. He felt a soft, squishy spot inside of Graves and pressed on it, causing tears to slide down his face as he bucked off the desk and pressed harder into his hand.
“Just put it in!” Graves pleaded.
“You’re not ready. It’ll probably hurt,” Oz insisted.
“I don’t care!” he said.
Oz pushed his legs up and back, taking advantage of his flexibility as he stood up, his cock dripping with lube and precum. “Suit yourself,” he shrugged. “But I don’t want to hear a word about how much it hurts to sit tomorrow.”
He wiped the excess lube on his hand onto Graves’ thigh and replaced his fingers with the tip of his cock. Graves inhaled sharply as he braced his hands on the edges of the desk. He was pretty sure he was laying on a laptop and he hoped he didn’t crush it. Fucking on top of a computer probably voided the warranty.
Oz thrust in, taking no care to go slow and sinking all the way to the hilt. Graves moaned so loud that he prayed there was no one outside the door right now to hear it. Oz laughed and shushed him.
“Remember when Velikan broke the lock because he heard you screaming and thought I was hurting you?” Oz asked.
“Oh my god, please don’t remind me of that right now…”
Velikan was the reason he’d changed the lock from a simple one to a deadbolt. Once he got into the room and realized Graves wasn’t being tortured, they couldn’t get him to leave because he decided he wanted to help his boss get off.
“What’s the matter? I thought you had fun,” Oz teased. He started rocking his hips against him, forcing a gasp from Graves’ throat at how hard he thrust back in. “I never knew Velikan gave such good head…between the both of us, we had you squirming in no time.”
“Fuck…” Graves gasped. The stretch of something so large in his unprepared hole burned, but not enough to make him regret it. He tried to spread his legs wider, but the pants tangled up around his ankles made it harder.
“You look so pretty like this, impaled on my cock,” Oz said. Graves clenched tightly around him, the pressure on his dick feeling so amazing as he thrust into him, striking his prostate with precision on every thrust. “You look so fucked out right now.”
Graves lost focus on the ceiling fan, his eyes half lidded as he became focused more on the pressure inside of him, Oz’s rough hands pushing his legs back, and that laptop digging into his back. His cock was brushing against his abs as it fell heavy onto his stomach, painfully neglected by Oz in favor of wrecking his pretty little hole.
“What did you do before I got here whenever you needed to blow off some stress?” Oz asked. He was panting from the exertion, motivated by the soft moans and gasps he was forcing out of Graves’ vocal cords.
“I just used my hand,” Graves replied.
“Wasn’t as good as this, was it?” He punctuated his sentence with a hard thrust into his prostate and bladder, the sudden sharp pressure on both making Graves jump.
“No,” he shook his head and realized it was flopping back and forth as though he had no muscle strength in his neck. “It really wasn’t.”
“Aww, you’re crying,” Oz said affectionately as more tears fell down his face.
“I’m not crying…my eyes are just getting a little…drippy…” Graves insisted.
Graves was so glad he found Oz. He couldn’t have asked for a better employee. Not only was he loyal to a T and the only person he could trust with helping him run the company, but he had such a nice cock. Oz battered his prostate like Velikan smashing down his office door, making his groin feel hot and his stomach tighten as the pleasure shot through his spine and all the way up to his brain. It was the only thing his brain could comprehend right now, all other thoughts long since gone, and he even stopped noticing the laptop digging into his back so much.
“You’re amazing,” Graves said.
Oz took one of his hands in his and gave it a squeeze. “Not as amazing as you, boss.”
“Fuck…” Graves gasped. Oz realized he was close and picked up the pace. “Fuck…” Graves said as his legs started trembling and his muscles contracted.
He screamed out Oz’s name as he came all over his stomach, his tears becoming harder as it became increasingly more difficult to deny the fact that he was crying. Oz pounded his prostate through his orgasm, watching him squirm as it became too much, but his grip on his legs stopped him from pushing him away. Graves sobbed as he was overstimulated while Oz kept up with his hard thrusting until he gasped and tried to force his cock in as deep as he could go, making sure to cum so deep inside of Graves that he’d be leaking on his drive home that night.
“Fuck,” Oz said with a gasp. “I love the way your eyes roll into the back of your head like that when you cum.”
Graves moaned, his leg periodically twitching from the aftershocks of an orgasm. He realized his eyes were still rolled into the back of his head and focused them again, trying to look at the ceiling fan and only seeing Oz on top him. One of his hands cupped Oz’s face, his beard scratching his palm.
“I didn’t even have to touch you this time,” Oz said with a smirk.
“I’m gonna need you to spend the night at my house so we can do this again all night,” Graves said. His voice sounded exhausted as his body was completely fucked out and had barely any strength left to function.
“Was that a serious offer?” Oz asked.
Graves fell back against the desk, his arm flopping to the side as he lost what strength he had. “Yeah,” he nodded. “I have a guest room…but we probably won’t need it.”
Oz gave him a moment to relax, his fingers grazing his jaw and chest as he waited for his breathing to level. He saw the corner of a laptop poking out from under him and pulled it out, setting it aside and giving Graves some relief from the metal stabbing him in the back as he laid there. He tipped his head down, licking Graves’ cum off his abs, smiling when he felt him twitching under him from how his beard felt against his sensitive skin as he cleaned up the mess they made.
“So…” Oz said as he loosely wrapped a hand around Graves’ throat and brushed his pulse point with his thumb. “About that raise?”
Graves chuckled as he finally caught his breath. One hand was on the back of Oz’s head as he pulled him in for a kiss. He could taste himself in Oz’s mouth, along with the taste of the beer they’d both shared before things got heated. He gasped as he came up for air and groaned when Oz dragged his tongue up his throat.
“I think we can work something out,” he promised.