#clawenweek2017

It was the average stuff: ‘I need just a good fuck and I can bet you can help’, going back to Owen’s place and practically stripping down to their socks. And that’s when two hyper-focuses started to occur. The first was on the large assortment of freckles parading from the top of his left pec to the bottom of his right hip. It seemed like nothing at all, just a few dots scattered about, but Claire couldn’t help but line them up in the perfect order for a constellation. She mapped it all out, the dots connecting to one another with her fingers.

When her fingers gingerly traces their way down his torso, he chuckled, not for a moment stopping her. When she finally reached the last one, she looked up to Owen - his eyes hungry and wanting. His lips were on hers in a heartbeat silencing anything else they could have said; instead, it became their bodies thriving in the hold of the other. He took her up into his arms, taking her onto his bed.

And that’s when the second and most frustrating, time consuming fixation began. His fucking cock. She had felt it press against her belly first, begging at Owen’s boxers for its release. Claire reached inside the band of his boxers, feeling the length of him. He hissed as Claire’s thumb ran over his tip, feeling the liquid of his pre-cum spill out. Claire was going to ask if he was alright when Owen kissed her sharply, making it impossible to say a word and give into lust.

When Owen sheathed his cock with the condom, they were both stripped out of their underwear, Owen on top of her with slow and wandering kisses lacing her lips and neck. Before she could even have a second thought, Owen was inside of her. Claire moaned, her hand wrapping around his back and clutching into him tightly. Everytime he would move and fit deeper inside of her, Claire was left moaning, pulling him in tighter with her legs.

When it was all said and done, Owen had fallen asleep beside her, but Claire couldn’t help but feel the wonderful and mind-blowing pressure of his cock inside of her. Caire bit her lip, remembering how his chest heaved in his pleasure, the littered freckles kept her sane for a moment longer before his cock was her fixation again. Claire didn’t sleep when Owen had started, her mind racing with a mountain of different things. When she thought she was fine, she got up, changing quickly into her clothes - the ever present absence of Owen inside of her made her hate the fact that she was standing. She just had to leave...otherwise she wouldn’t want to leave. She got all her things and left. When she went to bed that night….she held her legs together, curling herself up and urging herself not to touch herself at the thought of him.

It had been a few weeks and Claire couldn’t help but still think of him. How big he was, how thick he was, how he fit inside of her and had her begging for him whenever he would move out and cry out his name when he fit back inside of her. Groaning, Claire put her head on her desk. She knew why her brain was doing this - today of all days. It was because she had a stupid meeting with Owen, whom she had not even seen since that night. Claire had done a fantastic job of avoiding Owen at all costs; when she could, she’d send someone else in her stead to see him, send him memos and notes, anything to not see him and think of it.

But this is the moment she couldn’t get out of, a meeting she couldn’t pass on to someone else. Claire had been trying to sort out her brain, but it was all about that stupid appendage that had her moaning. She didn’t hear the door open or someone walk in because she was startled by someone clearing their throat.

“Am I interrupting something?” he asked. Claire shot up and saw Owen standing by the door.

“No!” she said quickly and far too defensively. “Not at all. Please come sit,” she cleared her throat and offered him a chair. Her eyes lingered on his crotch before she shot them down to her desk. She rambled about what they needed to discuss, the issues that he had with the cages and the paddocks for the raptors. It was going well and fine, Owen pointing out things, making his complaints is the order that Claire liked - she even smiled when she saw the formal way he did so. Her mind, however, was fixed on the seam of his pants and the strain it took to contain something more.

“Is something wrong?” Owen interrupted himself. Claire’s attention came back to his contorted face.

“Hm?”

“You’re biting your nail. You never bite your nails,” he revealed and Claire realised how desperately her desires had her - chewing on her thumb nail just to ease or give way to her desires, she wasn’t quite sure.

“Ah, no. Just something on my mind.” she waved it off. God, she needed to get over this, she needed to stop focusing on how that row of freckles lead straight to the miracle that he held within his trousers. Claire stood, going to her door. Owen stood up, following her with cautious steps.

“Hey, I just wanted to say, things don't have to be so awkward between us after that night. I know you've been feeling embarrassed or something. Like, really, there's no need. I mean -”

“Please stop talking,” she warned him. Without questioning herself, she turned the lock and started back towards Owen.

“I don't understand why you're getting like -” he started before Claire silenced him with her lips crashing straight against his. When she pulled away, Owen looked down at her with stunned eyes. “okay, I'm confused now,” he remarked.

“Shut up,” Claire murmured before kissing him once more. Owen responded, stripping her out of her blazer and taking off his jacket. But she noticed the hesitant way his hands didn’t quite grip her or move her. He finally tugged away, leaving Claire feeling torn between silencing him once more and to stop herself from this endeavour. She bit at her lip - containing the desires she held.

“Okay, wait, you’ve gotta tell me what’s going on,” he inquired, hands lightly skimming her arms. She sighed, leaning her head against his chest before pushing back, and moving hair from her face. Now she was feeling embarrassed. She literally just threw herself at him without a second word. Claire should have known it was just a one night stand for him - that's all it was supposed to be!

“I have been avoiding you but not because I’m embarrassed of that night. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about your dick for weeks and it’s becoming a problem,” she confessed in a laugh.

“Sorry about that?” he apologised, not knowing what else to say.

“No, no,” she resigned. “I’m sorry that was ridiculous and stupid and I just needed to get laid or something,” she laughed, trying to make light of it. Sighing, she stepped back, but was caught up Owen’s hand. He pulled her into his chest, kissing her with eager lips.

“If you stay quiet enough, you’ll be getting laid right here, right now,” he said in a hushed voice, thick and rasping. Claire whimpered as his whispered breathe chilled at her neck. She felt her knees want to give way, but Owen pulled her in at her waist, pushing her up and onto her own desk. Owen pushed Claire’s skirt up around her waist, and Claire unbuttoned his shirt, pushing it up and over his shoulders, throwing it aside.

Owen let his lips suck at her neck, his hands slipping up her thighs, sliding over her skin over and over again before his fingers laced over the band of her underwear. Tossing them aside, Claire suddenly felt him go down, his stubble scraping across her inner thigh. Claire knew that Zara was going to be out for a few hours, her wedding coming up and last minute planning kept her away from work, which never bothered Claire. It didn’t bother her right at this moment.

Owen’s face between her legs licked and sucked on her lower lips, his tongue teasing at her clit, and his hands keeping her legs open. She whispered rapidly, unable to keep her voice low and the only thing she could was talk so fast. Owen smiled against the inside of her legs, his skill leaving her heaving a little more. Her hips bucked against his face, trying to aid in her coming orgasm. Owen stilled her, his hand moving from her thighs to her breast, kneading at her and stroking past her nipples.

When she finally comes, her legs tightened around his head, hand tangled in his hair. She threw her head back, bucking sharply as he was still riding her out of this orgasm. She breathes hard as she rests back on her elbows, her desk more of a mess than she realised. But she didn’t even care - that orgasm was amazing.

“Oh, god,” she breathed. Owen chuckled, running his hand over his face, cleaning himself.

“Sorry, we never got to that last time and I really wanted to see what you tasted like,” he winked and Claire shook her head, rolling her eyes at him.

“Why do you have to be good with all of this?” she asked.

“Practise?” he replied, that same cocky grin as always. He pulled her forwards on the desk, her hips positioned just a little more forward, his own hips taken just to hers once more.

“You’re an idiot,” she said, unbuttoning her shirt and taking it off, she watched as Owen unbuckled his pants. “Condom?” she asked. Owen stopped, his hands pressed either side of her legs.

“Ah, fuck,” he cursed. Claire put her hands either side of his face, tilting his chin up to her.

“Pill. Clean though?” she asked and Owen smiled, nodding eagerly.

“Why do you always run your hands down my chest?” he laughed, Claire’s fingers absently tracing their way down his torso again. She pointed it out to him, the lining freckles that created a galaxy across his chest. He smiles, kissing her swiftly, but with a tenderness he had never shown before. When you’re fucking someone, when you’re caught in the heat of it all, kisses tend not to be tender, lingering and wanting like this. Claire whimpers, falling into the charm of his lips and feeling him slide inside her.

Her head falls back and Owen chuckled, hearing her moan a little too loudly. Owen kissed his way up her neck, hand running up her chest and underneath her bra to play with her nipple. Owen moved almost completely out of her, making her whimper and he knew it would happen. When he thrust back inside of her, Claire clutched into his back. Biting into his shoulder, her hands roamed down and gripped around his ass. Owen gave a hearty, guttural moan that had Claire bucking against him.

“So, what you were saying was...you’ve wanted to fuck me for over a month,” he grunted, pushing himself into her harder. Claire moaned over his shoulder, clutching onto him tighter, barely even on the table as their rhythms matched up.

“Why do you have to keep talking? You’re making it harder to deny,” she remarked, her breath turning into a soft laugh.

“Then don’t deny it,” Owen said, kissing at her shoulder.

“Shut up,” Claire moaned, her leg shaking in his hand. She knew she was going to come sooner than she even expected.

“Come on, admit it,” he said, pulling her into his hips again and

“Don’t tease me,” she cried a little. Owen kissed at her neck, small pecks and tender lips to coax her into a lovely, blissful moment.

“No, I plan on fucking you.” And he was doing a marvelous job of it. Owen put her back onto the table, laying her all the way down until his hand came to the other side. Above her head, Claire hung one hand onto the desk as the other scraped up Owen’s back, his own hand next to hers was urging his body forward, pushing him into her like he had done so long ago.

All she could feel was the way his toned body felt against hers, the way his stomach felt against her, his chest hair rubbing against her exposed nipple - and of course his cock. His length was pressing deep inside of her, whenever he would move out, she could feel the absence and moan when he was gone. Within a few more minutes, Claire bit into Owen’s shoulder to stifle her moan. She crashed back onto the desk.

Owen’s pace slowed down, letting her ride out her orgasm within her own pace. As Claire’s breath became less laboured, she felt Owen lift her up from the middle of her back. Taking them back into the office chair Owen once sat in, he took a seat with Claire sitting perfectly on his lap.

“I wanna watch you,” he said. It was a simple request and Claire was suddenly taken back the intimacy of it all. He had never asked, never seemed to want anything more than sex - but this was intimacy, this could be something more...and she wanted it.

Claire pushed his shoulders back into the chair, using his shoulders to help her with her motions, gliding up and down, rubbing against him with everything she needed. When Owen threw his head back, it made Claire whimper, tilting his head forward. “You wanted to watch,” she said slowly. “So watch.” Her voice was barely a whisper as she unclasped her bra, threw it aside and took his hands into her own. Placing the calloused fingers over the sensitive skin, Claire rose up and down once more, making sure Owen was watching her every move.

Claire felt her body trembling, Owen’s hands bound tightly into her hips, helping her with every thrust they could manage. Claire’s forehead rested against Owen’s, their eyes locked in an intoxicating intimacy. When Claire felt the pressure building at the bottom of her stomach, she started her pace faster, which caused Owen to do the same, his eyes became darker as they stared at her. It wasn’t climbing - it was sudden and earth shattering. Claire fell against Owen, holding him firmly as his pace rolled in tight waves and he stilled. She felt the warmth of him wash over her and they were both collapsed against each other.

Owen’s mouth clasped around her nipple, her moans an effort to breathe. Claire laced kisses over the side of his head, stealing ones on his lips and eagerly feeling the small rolls of his hips. Claire sighed, moving back to look at Owen, his breathing just a little more shaken then she expected. Claire ran her hand up the side of his neck, leaning down to kiss him. Once more, they were tender, but it was Claire this time, wanting to just kiss him over and over again.

It took them a few moments to finally get changed again. Owen was lucky, he only had a shirt and jacket missing - Claire was a complete mess. She wasn’t complaining about how she got there, just the fact that it was all over the place; the only thing she seemed to be wearing was her skirt and heels.

When Claire was all back in order, she turned to Owen, and he helped her get back to a presentable manner. When she put her hair up, Owen spun her around, kissing her swiftly and she fell straight back into his charms.

“God I missed this,” she murmured against his lips. He kissed her again.

“We should do this again sometime,” he smiled, tucking his hands back into his pockets.

“Maybe not in my office,” she shrugged.

“I don’t know. We could defile a whole bunch of places in here,” he said with that cocky smile. Claire scoffed.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen. Too many meetings in here for me to feel comfortable,” she said, raising her brow. Owen nodded.

“Alright, fine. But when you’re thinking about my dick next, let me know and I’ll come running,” he bit at his lip, before going back to her door and unlocking it.