Irene was sitting on the edge of the massive oak desk, legs spread, her emerald green silk dress pulled up and rumpled to her waist.
Her olive-green hair, released from its usual chignon, fell in damp strands over her bare and pale shoulders. Her gray eyes shone with intense light, pupils dilated, as she stared straight into Kaiser's eyes. Her skin glistened with a thin film of sweat at the base of her neck and between her breasts.
Kaiser stood between her thighs, torso bare. His mid-length silver hair, usually silky, clung slightly to his forehead and temples from sweat. His pants were lowered just enough.
He held her firmly by the hips, powerful fingers digging into her pale flesh, and pounded her without gentleness, each deep and regular thrust making the heavy desk tremble and its wood creak. Stacks of parchments slid, a silver inkwell wobbled, threatening to spill its black contents, but neither paid attention. The air was heavy with the smell of sweat, hot wax, and sex.
