Theme #54 React
Title: Insatiable
Chapter Title: Pushing
Theme: 54 React
Rating: NC-17
Length: 2,466 words
Disclaimer: I own nothing, really.
AN: This is for my more mature rated Pepperony100 prompts. It will be an connected story done in one shots.
Summary: Pepper wears a skirt shorter than her normal conservative knee length and Tony had a boring day at the office… add some of that sexual tension and you get pushing.
She had sauntered into his office in the usual brisk manner, one only she could ever do in the shoes she wore on a daily basis. Today the shoes were a simple black slip on number, five inch stilleto heels as always. His brown, almost black gaze slowly travel long shapely legs that extend upwards, a brow arching as his gaze does not met the usual sensible fabric of a knee length skirt, instead a view of her thigh is granted him, and finally his eyes are greeted by a flarred black fabric just short of the middle of her thighs.
The woman was practically all legs.
He imagined what it would be like to have those legs around his waist, he was willing to bet they were strong legs, and that walking in those deadly shoes helped keep them that way along with undoubtly a morning jog and maybe yoga. Would she actually be the yoga type? He hoped so, there was so many possiblities when it came to having a woman who was a yoga freak. But a part of him knew he’d probably never find out, Tony Stark hated disappointment.
He resigned himself to taking in the rest of her outfit, a simple white dress shirt, two three buttons undone completed it. Simple, yet classy earrings and her hair pulled back in a split-second messy bun. He liked her hair like that, almost as well as he enjoyed it down in loose cascading curls. Unforunately he got to see the messy bun more often. A shame really.
“You wanted to see me?” Pepper Potts stood poised, Blackberry ready. But what her boss could want at the last of the day was beyond her, not surprizing however.
“Yes. Yes I did.” Quickly Tony pulled himself back from the thoughts whirling about his mind, and let his eyes meet hers, “I wanted to clear my schedule for tomorrow, it’s Friday and I’m thinking about riding out to see that Wine place I was thinking of buying over the spring. You remember it don’t you Miss Potts?” He stood, dressed in gray slacks and a silver hued dress shirt, the tie and suit jacket housed over his desk chair.
“Yes, the Mali Vineyard. It was a very lovely place.” She smiled, remembering when they had paused there on a trip back from some business in San Francisco.
He watched the way her eyes took him in, studying him with her usual careful eye and always with something else hidden behind it, something they were both aware of. In fact it filled the room any time they were alone together for too long, like now, “And clear yours as well. I’d like you to accompany me.” He leaned back against his desk, next to her, his eyes taking in the line of her frame, the curves she managed to have despite her very slender appearance.
Pepper felt his eyes on her, but she did her best to ignore them, a very difficult task, “I will call them and make sure they know we’re coming. I’m sure the owners will be pleased, they’ve been…”The look in his eyes made the rest of the words catch in her throat, suddenly she understood the feeling a gazelle got when a lion stared it down at the watering hole. Taking a deep breath she forced herself to finish the sentence, “looking to sell for a while now.” She needed to leave now, “Will that be all Mr. Stark?”
He knew she knew how he was looking at her, he looked at her like that a lot. Especially since the Firemen’s Benefit and the press conference. He enjoyed the effect it had on her, how the last words she spoke came out uncertain, just short of a whisper and that her skin flushed slightly. The tension was killing him, but he could tell she was having a harder time than he was. A true first.
Slowly he stood from leaning on his desk and slid behind her, trapping the her between him and the desk. His hand slides across her wrist and slowly pries the blackberry from her hand and sets it carefully on his desk, “Don’t forget to breathe.” Her all but growls at her, and he knows this is a little fast, but it’s been a boring day and that skirt had pushed that last nerve.
He wanted to see just how far he could get with what had popped into his mind the moment she had walked through the door. It was a very naughty idea to be sure, one he had thought about more than once, he could probably bet he had thought of it at least three times before. But it was this moment, completely out of the blue that he decided was the perfect time to try it.
He was standing behind her, she could feel his breath on the back of her neck, she could feel the heat of his eyes going over parts of her she wouldn’t mind if he touched. A part of her screamed to run, but her legs just wouldn’t move and if they did she was all to sure she wouldn’t get far. It was one of those moments, there had been quite a few but none that felt like this. This she could feel was going to go some where, but where was in the end she knew in his control, this time.
Pepper let a shaky breath release as his calloused hand skimmed the hem of her skirt. Inwardly she cursed laundry day, she didn’t like wearing this skirt it was… too short to be anywhere near him and this just simply proved it.
A sure chuckle slowly left his lips as he danced his lips near her ear, “I’m not going to harm you Miss Potts. Relax.” He lets his lips linger just behind her ear, pressing gently against the sensitive skin there, the tip of his tongue slipping out briefly. He smirks at her reaction as she shivers and then her slowly lifts his mouth from touching her skin to hover there, his warm scotch tainted breath breezing softly across the now slightly damp patch of skin.
She shivers again, her mind whirling with alarms, panic and confusion. She holds on to her senses trying to think straight, she fights strong. She takes a shuddering breath as his left hand slowly snakes across her middle and his fingers splay across her stomach, holding her in place. Her lips part to protest, but all words are lost at the sensation of her skirt being pulled up slightly by his right hand. She feels like she’s about to stumble forward and she does, his hand about her middle steadying her as her petite fingers grip solidly at his desk.
He lets himself press against her, not enough to fully trap her against his desk, but enough so he can enjoy the sensation of her small but shapely behind pressing against his front. He wonders how much control she has exactly, if she has as much as he does. He figures while he has her here, like this he might as well test the theory. He drags her skirt up a little more, his hand pressing against her tight as he drags upwards he enjoys the face she’s the sort of woman who rarely wears any sort of hose. He enjoys his bare hand against the naked flesh of her upper thigh.
Shifting his stance slightly, Tony injects his knee between hers, forcing her long legs to part slightly. He resists the urge to pull her skirt up to belt about her waist, he decides to leave some decency to her, he was really pushing the limits as it was and he fully intended to push further. He lets his hand travel towards the space now available between her thighs. He caresses the soft skin there for a moment or two, his lips once again finding her neck.
Despite all her efforts in control Pepper shivers at his touch at the knowledge of where this is leading too. It excites a part of her, it causes her to swallow any words of protest, as any sort of rational thought is better off forgotten now. And as his hand presses against the junction of her body, against her underwear she just simply bites her lower lip and grips the desk more, her knuckles beginning to turn white already.
He lets his hand linger against her most intimate part, unsurprised that her underwear is as conservative as she is. Not what is considered granny underwear no, but modest. Decent. Everything he, Tony Stark is not. He presses a little harder, noting her fight still there. This was going to be like pulling teeth. But in the end he was very certain he’d get what he wanted. For a moment his thumb is the only thing that moves, it gently rubs the place where her leg connects to the rest of her.
He’s teasing her, or waiting for whatever he considers the right moment. She knows what’s coming, but she just doesn’t when, so there’s no point in preparing. And finally when she almost can’t take it anymore she feels his hand move and press more firmly against her and she loses the hold of her lower lip between her teeth and a rush of air exits her mouth in almost silence. But she knows, she’s certain that this isn’t it, not yet. It’s only the beginning.
It’s not enough he decides. He wants to feel her. Every tremor, every ounce of that tension as he pushes her towards that edge he doubts many men have pushed her to, or pushed her to properly. He lifts his hand from her a moment and almost laughs at the eager movements of her hips. He wondered just how much of her wanted this, or how honest she was to herself. Her need, her want was always like a two ton brick every time there was a moment of hesitation between them. But now, in this moment hesitation, no and escape was futile.
His hand yanks the front of her skirt up. Screw decency. The gasp that leaves her lips excites him. She wavers a bit on her heels and he moves more against her, giving her something to lean on as she practically death grips his desk, “Hold on tight.” He mutters the words heavily in her ear. His tone free of any thickness. He knew he had better control and now he could prove it.
The words cause her eyes to flutter closed, she bites her lower lip again as his hand snakes down the front of her panties. His fingers waste little time in diving into her wet folds. She lets go of her lower lip, teeth clench and she hisses as those large calloused fingers probe deeper until finally she has no choice but to carefully spread her legs a little more on her own to accomidate the wideth of his hand. It doesn’t take him long to find his rhythm. And somehow he keeps her from moving her hips, and it’s then she decides he is evil.
He loves how ease she reacts to him, how willing she’s turned out to be. His fingers glide easily in and out, over and back. He slips one and then a second inside of her, and tightens his hold on her middle quickly at the sudden tremoring of her legs. Once she’s secure against him and he notes her fingers are almost permentantly attached to his desk does he allow the hand at her middle to slip slowly downwards over her flat stomach over her navel and then down her thigh.
He holds her in a cradle of his arms as she uses the desk for leverage. His righth and leaves her a moment, fingers wet as his other hand pushes her underwear aside to access where his other hand had once been. He notes the growing tightness of her body, the wetter she’s become. He quickly lets his left hand return to the ministrations his right had been doing. His right index and middle finger finding that little nub of pleasure and pressing at it.
She almost jumps out of his arms. She having a helluva time holding herself up and she wonders how long it will take her to walk when it’s all over and done… she wonders if she’ll get the chance to walk away or if this is merely round one. Finally the moan she’s been holding at bay betrays her and she grinds against his hands as his rhythm picks up. It’s like he knows how close she is, and then it happens. She bends, her head flying to rest on his shoulder, eyes rolling back.
Even though he’s brought her, he doesn’t stop just yet. He keeps going until her legs are almost ready to collapse, until her entire frame is convulsing and shuddering. Only then does he slowly withdraw his hands, his left returning to hold her at her middle while he adjust her clothing back properly with his right, “ Can you stand on your own yet?”
She tries to speak, but can’t, so instead she nods.
“Hm. I doubt it.” He chuckles lightly and slowly pries her hands from his desk, amazed there’s not a permenant imprint of her fingers there. Carefully and gently he leads her over to the leather sofa against the floor to ceiling windows of his office and slowly helps her sit and then straights his own clothes, but not before bringing his fingers up to his mouth and nose. First he inhales her scent and then he tastes it, “Mm. Vanilla.” The word leaves his lips in a groan before he turns to back to his desk and dones his tie and jacket, “Have a good evening. Tomorrow at eight Pepper, now don’t forget.”
She watches him leave, her lips still parted slightly. It’s at least five minutes before she can gather her wits to stand up straight and two more before she feels she can actually put one foot in front of the other without tripping, stumbling or anything else similar. Snatching her Blackberry from his desk she quickly heads out of his office and to her own, grabbing her purse and then off to the elevator.
Her mind looses track of time as the events of that moment replay over and over in her head as she drives home. And that night when she turns over to goto sleep she swears, no, she knows she can still feel his hands on her and when she finally falls asleep all she dreams of is that and nothing more.