Yes, he is supposed to kinda

Greg lingered in the office, chest heaving as Noelle's footsteps receded into the corridor's hush.

Lamplight spilled across the desk, catching the yellow streaks on contract pages, pulling him back to the stack of legalese that had sparked this frenzy.

The remote nestled in his pocket, heated from his clenched hand, pulsed like a heartbeat against his thigh.

Beneath his trousers, faint red smears from her lips itched against his skin, a secret map of what he'd wrought.

Minutes ticked by before the door swung open again.

Noelle stepped in, her cheeks flushed under fresh powder, eyes sharpened with liner, lips gleaming a deeper crimson than before.

The faint scent of mint trailed her, mingling with the room's stale coffee air.

She paused in the doorway, one hand on her hip, the other brushing a stray blonde wave from her face.

"Now," her voice rolled low, like velvet dragged over gravel, "where were we?"

A grin split her lips, quick and sharp, before she closed the gap in three strides.

Her fingers hooked his collar, yanking him forward into a kiss that scorched, her mouth crashing against his with a hunger that stole his breath in an instant.

Lips parted under the pressure, soft and insistent, as her tongue darted out first, teasing the seam of his mouth before pushing deeper, coiling around his own in a deliberate dance that sent sparks racing down his spine.

He tasted the faint mint lingering from her rinse, mixed with the warmth of her breath, each twist and flick building a rhythm that pulled him under, her tongue exploring every corner, tracing the edges of his teeth, then retreating just enough to lure him forward.

Her free hand slid up his chest, nails scraping lightly over his shirt, while the other tightened on his collar, holding him captive as the kiss intensified, her lips sucking gently on his lower one, nipping with a playful bite that drew a muffled groan from his throat.

Saliva mingled, slick and hot, as she tilted her head for a better angle, her tongue plunging again, swirling in lazy circles that mirrored the grind of her hips below.

Those hips rocked forward, curves pressing up to his body with unyielding pressure, her breasts pressing firmly against his chest through the thin fabric of her blouse, nipples hardening into points that he felt even through layers.

Fabric whispered as she shifted, her skirt riding higher with each subtle thrust, thighs clenching around his sides just enough to trap him, her core aligning with the growing bulge in his pants, rubbing in slow, torturous strokes that made his pulse thunder.

The friction built heat between them, her movements precise, teasing the length of his erection with the soft give of her body, each grind coaxing it harder, fuller, until the strain against his zipper bordered on ache.

She drew back with a gasp, tongue darting out to trace her lower lip, savouring the gloss.

"Your mouth tastes even better," she murmured, voice husky, eyes locked on his.

"We've got those reviews to finish," she added, but her tone carried no rush, lingering like smoke in the dim office air.

Instead, she nudged him toward her chair, guiding him down with a firm hand on his shoulder, the cool press of her palm seeping through his shirt.

The chair's leather groaned as he dropped into it, the seat dipping and hugging his ass.

Then she settled onto his lap, her skirt hiking up in a slow rustle, fabric bunching at her thighs as they straddled his, warm and strong, clamping just enough to hold him in place.

Noelle's backside, plush yet firm, ground down in deliberate circles, the soft give of her flesh rubbing against the bulge beneath her, each rotation building friction that throbbed through his trousers, coaxing his arousal to swell harder with every pass.

She leaned forward to flip open a contract, the pages fanning out with a sharp snap, Noelle's breath warm on his neck, carrying hints of mint and desire as it ghosted across his skin, raising goosebumps in its wake.

Noelle's finger traced a clause on the paper, nail tapping the ink as she murmured about hidden loopholes, her voice steady and precise, dissecting the wording—"See here, this ambiguity in the indemnity section could bury us in court if we're not careful"—even as her hips rolled in a languid arc, pressing back with insistent pressure that made his breath hitch, the seam of her skirt whispering against his pants.

Papers rustled under Noelle's fingers, crinkling as she turned to another page.

She highlighted a red flag with a quick underline, explaining the risk in crisp detail—"This non-compete is toothless without a geographic limit; it'd crumble under scrutiny"—

Noeel’s words flowed unbroken while her free hand slipped back, brushing his thigh in feather-light strokes. Nails grazed the inner seam of his trousers, inching higher with each sentence, close enough to skim the edge of his zipper but pulling away just as tension peaked.

Noelle shifted her weight, thighs flexing to deepen the grind.

Her vagina though clothed aligned perfectly over his erection, rocking in subtle waves that sent sparks shooting up his spine.

The motion jolted through his core as she leaned closer to the desk, breasts brushing his arm through her blouse.

Another clause caught Noelle’s eye, and she pointed it out, voice dropping to a husky whisper—"Watch for these **** majeure exemptions; they're overly broad, leaving too much to chance"—

As her hand ventured bolder, fingertips danced along his belt line.

They dipped under the hem of his shirt to trace bare skin, nails scraping lightly in teasing patterns that mirrored the circles of her hips.

Heat built between them until his pulse hammered in his ears, every explanation laced with torment that blurred the lines between work and want.