They stumbled, entangled, toward the desk. It was a clumsy, desperate migration fueled by pure need. Xiaobao swept everything off the wooden surface with one frantic arm, papers and a tablet clattering to the floor.
She turned him, pressed him down onto the now-empty desk, the hard surface cool against his back. Without hesitation, she straddled him, her knees bracketing his hips, and leaned down to reclaim his mouth.
The kiss was fierce now, a raw exchange of desire. Xiaobao's lips were pliant and demanding, her teeth nipping at his lower lip before soothing it with her tongue. Jian Wei's hands roamed from her waist to her back, tracing the line of her spine, feeling the muscles tense and shift under his touch.
He could taste the faint sweetness of her lipstick, smell the clean, floral scent of her perfume mixed with the warmer, uniquely her scent that was driving him mad.
