#ryansitkowski

"Just a little longer," Ryan presses a kiss into your hair, ignoring the pout on your lips. You look as bored as you feel, you'd gotten over your excitement from the free food and glasses of eggnog early on. "You know this one is important. They wanted us all here to celebrate."

"Do you realize they've played the same song five times now?" You grumble, the light glinting off your black nails as you start to sip from your cup. They keep playing music from the different bands from their label instead of Christmas carols. "Whoever did their playlist apparently really likes hearing you scream in the background. Here I thought I was the only one who got to hear you scream."

Ryan pinkens slightly, but no one seemed to hear your comment. There's a large crowd, so many people a person is easily lost in the group, so it's loud with the chatter and music. "(Y/N)."

"Don't you think we'd have more fun somewhere else?" You say suddenly, getting an idea. You send him a sly look beneath your long lashes, your lips curving. You can think of ten different things you could be doing --- specifically to the good looking man at your side. "I mean, we could still technically be at the party."

Your boyfriend looks down at you, recognizing your tone. So you want to sneak off somewhere and have a little fun? He's not exactly opposed, the party is in full swing, half of his band is talking to their producer, so everyone is pretty preoccupied. .

Still, there's not exactly a lot of places the two of you can go, it might not be a good idea. "Maybe here isn't the best place," he hedges, green eyes flicking across the room. He shifts slightly from where he leans back against one of the tables, hearing you sigh indignantly.

Fine.

You finish off your drink before setting your cup down, straightening and stepping out from beneath his arm. Your smooth your fingers down your dress, brushing any wrinkles out of the black material; you tried to dress really nice today for his party, right down to your black stilettos that always make your legs look fantastic, the diamonds glinting in your ears a perfect addition to set off the darkness of your outfit.

You only wish Ryan appreciated the effort, he said you looked nice but you weren't content with that! He could have said you looked beautiful, or sexy, or told you all the things he'd like to do to you once he got you out of that dress, but no, just "you look nice, let's go, we're already late."

Ugh.

Your eyes flick about the room, and eventually you spy Vinny, standing rather off to himself, looking at his phone. He looks as bored as you feel, so at least there's one person who'll understand your plight. Someone steps up to Ryan, talking and distracting him for a moment, so you take the opportunity  to escape, trotting over to the youngest member of the band.

"Hey, Vin," you sigh, tugging one of the metal chairs out from beneath the round table and sitting down in it with a flounce. You prop your chin on your hand, your painted eyes flicking up to his where he looks surprised. "Are you as bored as I am?"

"Uh," Vinny shifts a little, clicking the screen of his phone before looking at you. "I mean, it's a work party, so..."

"So it's supposed to be boring? Right. They couldn't even have some champagne or liquor to keep the poor unfortunate souls from losing interest," you complain, leaning back in your chair. You gesture at Vinny to join you at the table, and after a moment he does, albeit reluctantly; he knows you're Ryan's girlfriend, he's met you plenty of times, but he doesn't think he's ever had a conversation with you where it's just explicitly the two of you --- although he can't really think that, the entire room is packed with people.

"Most of the guys don't drink."

"Sure, but what about the rest of us?" You roll your eyes, shifting in your seat again. You want your boyfriend to agree to leave so you can go have some fun, even if the two of you only make it to the car. You can usually get Ryan to bend to your will, he's such a passive person, if not a perfectionist when it counts. You just get frustrated that he always wants to play by the rules, that he's not spontaneous.

You want to have some fun, make memories, and this is so not up to your standards! There's not even any games! No "pin the eyebrow on the lead singer," or "how many guitarists does it take to change a lightbulb." Just boring speeches by old white men and the occasional eyeball from the security who aren't checking you out but are more likely wondering what you're going to steal.

Come on, does it really look like there's room in this dress that you could hide something? It's pretty tight as it is, you doubt you could hide an award down the front. Someone would definitely question the bulge --- although these days, maybe not.

"Where's Ryan?"

"Over there talking to that short guy."

"Uh. Ricky?"

"Yeah," you frown, tapping your nails impatiently on the white tablecloth. Why is it always white? It stains so easily, you'd think they'd go for a different color. Red, considering the occasion, would have been a much better choice.

Hmm.

You wonder how you can seduce Ryan at his work party. Maybe flash him a little, cross your legs so he can catch a peek, something to motivate him to leave! Maybe he doesn't really like how you look tonight, what if he dislikes your dress, is that why he's not interested? If he didn't like your outfit he should have said so!

Hmph.

Wait... you suddenly have an idea!

You purse your lips before grabbing a napkin off the table, grabbing one of the pens from the cup in the middle you assume has a logical reason for being there. You scribble something on the napkin before folding it in half, abruptly offering it to Vinny from between your fingers. "Be a pal and give this to Ryan for me, would you?"

"Uh, you want me to give him a napkin?" Vinny blinks, reluctantly taking it.

"Yes. And unless you want your ears to turn red, don't read it either," You wink at him, amused as he immediately turns a bright shade of red as you rise from the table. You tug a little at the hem of your dress as it rides up, but you don't mind it short, you like showing off your legs. "Thanks, Vinny."

"Uh. No problem."

~~~~~~~~~~

Ryan can't believe he's doing this.

He can't believe you did that to Vinny! The poor kid looked incredibly uncomfortable as he shuffled up to Ryan, handing him a folded napkin like it was burning his flesh. He mumbled something your boyfriend couldn't hear before disappearing off into the crowd, and Ryan had flipped the napkin open curiously.

Meet you in you-know-who's office if you want to have a real party.

Considering there's only one person you dislike the most at the label company and you know where their office is, he knows exactly where you are. He sighs as he takes the elevator, leaning back on his heels as it slowly goes a few floors up. The doors ding, revealing a red-carpeted hallway, the walls lined with pictures of bands and performers, records and stars telling of their music.

He exhales heavily as he starts down them, seeing the door at the very end closed, the frosted glass hiding the interior. He glances around nervously, but everyone is downstairs, so he's not really worried that anyone will see him. He gives it a moment before he opens the door, nearly rolling his eyes.

"(Y/N)."

"Took you long enough," you sigh, sitting in his producers chair, your feet propped up on his desk as you twist one of his hats around in your delicate fingeres. "I've been in here for a few minutes, I almost thought you weren't coming."

"You really sent Vinny to be your messenger? He'll be scarred." Ryan chuckles, amused as he glances at your relaxed pose; man, his producer would have a heart attack if he saw either of you in here right now.

"Oh, it's good for him! Besides, I didn't write anything bad on the napkin, I just made him think I did," you chuckle, carelessly tossing the hat away. The office is dark, you hadn't bothered to turn on any lights, hadn't wanted any extra attention after all, but there's just enough light to see by thanks to what's filtering through the blinds. "And it worked, didn't it? No one will notice that we're gone."

"We have a speech in like twenty minutes."

"Guess we better make the most of our time then, hmm?" You drop your feet off the desk, quickly standing as he shuts the door firmly behind him, flicking the lock just in case. He would be mortified if someone walked in on the two of you, he'd never live it down.

You grin as you near him, your fingers curling in his collar as you force him to take a step back into the door, pleased that you have him all to yourself. He's just yours right now, you don't have to share his attention with anyone else. You take a moment to glance him over, from his dark hair to the button up shirt he wore tonight, admiring the handsome man who somehow decided dating you was a good idea. He looks so good, just like he always does.

You love the scent of his cologne, it's familiar and comforting. You like how his eyes crinkle in the corners when he smiles at you, the deep rumble of his laugh when you catch him off guard with a smart comment. You adore this man, everything about him, from his kisses to his voice to his pretty eyes and his gorgeous... everything.

He's perfect.

Your eyes flick to his and you give him a coy smile, your talented fingers already working on the buttons of his shirt. Ryans hand rises to cup your cheek, tilting your chin gently so his lips can find yours and slow the pace. You feel so soft and warm against him, so eager for his touch, that he can't help but pull you closer, his tongue parting your lips to hungrily take control.

Ryan would never do this with anyone else, but there's a level of trust between the two of you he's never had before. He knows you're doing this for fun, to keep your love life interesting, not because you're going to blast social media about it later or tell all your friends. Everything he's ever told you has never gone anywhere else, and it makes caring about you all that much easier.

You giggle as he urges you to step back, only a few feet until you feel the producers desk against your thighs. You shift, easily lifting yourself up onto the rough surface, Ryan's lips still glued to yours as you both fight for dominance over the kiss --- he's always so quiet and laidback, no one would ever expect him to always want to be in control when in bed. You don't mind it of course, you like a man who knows what he wants.

Your thighs part as you tug him closer, already urging his shirt off his shoulders, cold fingers pulling impatiently on the black t remaining until you manage to wiggle it off of him as well. You can feel your tight dress ride up against your hips, your eyes roving the tattoos that decorate his skin --- you like them so much, they fit him perfectly, and god why is it guys are always so much hotter when they're inked?

Ryan's fingers slip up to your shoulders, tugging at the black straps there holding your dress up. You shrug them off, hearing rather than feeling him jerk on the zipper roughly, dragging it down your back and letting the cool air rush against your skin until you shiver. His lips are already on your throat, feathering kisses and nips across your sensitive neck as his hips push into yours, your thighs rising higher on his waist.

You hastily put one hand back to hold you up, biting your lip as your fingers curl into his thick black hair. You've never had sex on someone else's desk before, so this is going to be a nice experience. His fingers curl around your waist, gliding up to tug on the top of your dress, dragging it down until it's bunching at your hips. Your thighs tighten slightly against his torso, and you have no idea how turned on he is right now --- you're always so spontaneous, ready to get into some kind of trouble and drag him with you, but it's always worth it.

He sighs softly as your hips shift tantalizingly against his again, causing his jeans to grow increasingly uncomfortable. He wishes he had hours to kiss every inch of your skin, to show you how much he wants you with his lips, but there's just not the time --- he'll have to wait until he gets you back to your apartment. He pulls you tighter against him, making sure you can feel just exactly what you're doing to him, and you don't even have to try!

His fingers twitch at the thought of touching you, and he knows you're rubbing your chest against his enticingly, your fingers stroking through his black hair as he nibbles and kisses at your throat, just how he knows always gets you in the mood. He can tell by the way you're shifting you like it, the thin material of your panties all that's keeping him from your heat.

His fingers glide up your side, leaving goosebumps in their wake as they shamelessly cup your breast, giving a firm squeeze. You moan softly in his ear, your skin flushing just at the thought of what you're going to do to him.

When your mischevious eyes flick to his, his grip on you flexes, recognizing the gleam. You're in the mood to cause as much trouble for him as possible, and he doesn't have the mind to tell you no, either. So when you shift, urge him to take a step back so you can get to your feet, he lets you turn him around. His thighs press against the back of the desk as you drop to your knees, his eyes shamelessly focusing on the lovely pair of tits you have as you tug his jeans down his hips.

This is why he loves you.

Well, not this specifically, but the rest of you.

Okay, that's --- no, that's not what he means. He hasn't told you how he feels yet, and obviously, if he states it like that you'll blow him off and roll your eyes. He means he just... well, you're spontaneous where he's a stick in the mud, you make him want to be adventurous, get out of his comfort zone more often. He would never do something like this with someone else, he wouldn't have the guts.

You just... you just seem to bring out the best in him, and he doesn't want to live without your coy giggles or that look in your eye when you're about to start trouble. He's head over heels for you and he thinks he was from the very beginning. According to the guys, he's never looked at anyone like he does you, although he doesn't know what look they're talking about. He just knows you're the only woman in the world for him.

It's why ---- oh, fuck, that feels good.

Your fingers are curled around the base of his cock, your lips parted as you slowly begin to lick your way down his shaft. You're gazing up at him, and he knows you'd be smirking if you could. You pride yourself on your skills, and he's never once had any reason to doubt you, this is no exception.

"Fuck..." Ryan groans softly as your mouth envelopes his throbbing length, warm and wet and so very inviting. His tattooed fingers thoughtlessly tangle into your hair, curling through the soft locks as he tilts his head back slightly, eyes closing. His free hand curves against the edge of the desk, holding tight as you begin to work him over, your tongue grazing the underside of his cock, making its way all the way to his tip before starting again.

You like it when Ryan swears, it's how you know you're getting to him. He can be so uptight sometimes, but usually a good blowjob makes him putty, it's his weakness, you've learned. It's also how you get him to agree with you or convince him that you're right, he's very swayable when he's relaxed.

Your lips take more of his cock between them, hearing that deep rumble of pleasure start in his chest as your fingers curl around his thigh. You're sucking with just enough pressure, bobbing your head, his shaft pillowed by your hot, damp tongue that he thinks is made of magic. You hum softly when he groans again, pleased before you reluctantly pull back, not wanting to take it too far, after all. You still want your fun.

"Isn't this a lovely party?" you purr as your fingers lightly caress his shaft, your tongue flicking against his head teasingly. "We should come back next year."

"Mmm-hmm," Ryan doesn't care about the party at this point, Freddy Krueger could show up and terrorize everyone and he'd ignore the screams. His eyes are for you only, on the gleam of your painted lips, your eyes, that chest just demanding attention his fingers are itching to give.

He can't stand it.

His cock is throbbing, aching in your talented fingers are you caress and tease his head with your tongue, torturing him slowly. His brain has switched gears, he just wants you, on this desk, your thighs tight around his hips as you hold onto the table for dear life.

When he urges you to your feet, when his hands clasp your cheeks so he can kiss you, you don't argue. One of the things you adore about Ryan, is that he makes every moment count. From the first time you slept together to even now, you don't feel like it's just a fuck to him, it's... different, with him. The way he wants to kiss you, show you affection even when you're getting rough with each other, you like that. He has his own way about him that you're not sure you'll ever have with anyone else, and you're not sure you want too.

You've not been together too long of a time, but so far it's been your favorite relationship.

You can't help but smirk as you feel the desk behind you again, Ryan's lips eager on yours as his hands close around your hips, lifting you just enough to shift you onto the desk. Your thighs open for him, letting him return between them without hesitation as your tongue traces his. All you can smell is his cologne, feel the rough brush of his stubble against your jaw, the warmth of his arms as they close around you. He's holding you to him, taking just a minute to kiss you, not rushing to the finish line like everyone else.

Another reason you're a little concerned you're going to fall for this guy.

You shift where you sit, feeling his warm hands coast up your bare thighs, urging your dress around your waist and out of his way. Your fingers curl instinctively at the corner of the desk as he works the thin material keeping him from having his way with you off, and you lift your legs just enough to let it disappear into the floor --- you hope you don't forget those in his producer's office.

"Ryan," you sigh impatiently as you tug on his hips, urging him higher between your thighs. Your hand cups his cock as you feather kisses down his jaw, hearing his intake of breath. You're not sure how long you've been gone from the party, but you figure you better speed this along before someone starts missing the rockstar.

You lean back, letting your elbow bend to better hold your weight, Ryan's lean frame over yours. He takes only a brief moment to nuzzle your breasts before you feel the head of his cock at your heat. He strokes your damp folds with his length, bumping your clit teasingly as his tongue languidly circles your breast. Your teeth dig into your lower lip as you watch him, squirming against his teasing cock.

"Ryan," you whine. You need to move this along, despite the fact you're enjoying yourself. The attention to your chest feels good, he always has a tendency to kiss and suck and lick and just generally give your tits plenty of the appreciation they deserve, but you feel like you deserve the whole package right now too! You're impatient for his cock.

You feel him smile against your heated skin, and you groan as he suddenly pushes his hips forward, easing the head of his throbbing cock inside of you. Your head falls back in pleasure as he slowly enters you, thighs widening to accommodate.

Ryan exhales heavily as your heat closes around him, hugging and squeezing every ridge of his hardness as he pushes deeper. His eyes are on your face, admiring the gleam on your parted lips as your hips meet, bringing the two of you as close as you could possibly be. His arms lips beneath your lower back, pulling you flush against him, hearing your light gasp with satisfaction. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as your arms curve around his neck, and you moan as he begins moving, thrusting inside of you forcefully enough to move the desk.

You can't help but kiss his neck, his jaw, his lips --- whatever you can reach. You can feel his muscles beneath your fingertips as they draw down his back, clasping his hips and urging him to fuck you as hard as he can. You love it when he does, when he just bends you over and you fuck the daylights out of each other --- the back of the sofa, on the kitchen counter, there was one time at band camp...

"Fuck, you feel amazing," you breathe, feeling a rush of heat throughout your body. Your knuckles are almost white where they grip the shaking desk, absently hearing items start to roll-off or clatter to the floor --- well that sounded like it broke.

You hook one leg tight against his lower back, spreading the other further apart. You shudder as his angle changes slightly, his cock easily gliding between your wet folds; he groans when you wiggle your hips, when you squeeze his length and murmur hotly in his ear what you're going to do to him the moment you two get home --- you have a feeling you'll be leaving the party early after this.

Ryan is going to have a heart attack, he just knows it. His heart races as he listens to your whispers and taunts, your fingers stroking down his damp skin. Fucking you on a desk in his boss' office, your dress tangled at your waist, displaying your delectable body --- he didn't realize it was on his bucket list until now.  Your tits bounce with every hard thrust, and he can tell you're trying not to be loud, considering the environment, but there's no one on this floor, everyone's downstairs, and --- he wants you loud.

"Ungh, fuck, Ryan!"

There you go.

He smirks as he grinds his hips into yours, forcing you hard against the desk as his fingers suddenly pinch your clit. He feels you jerk beneath him, thighs squeezing hard around his waist as you tense abruptly. There's a rush of electricity through your veins so abrupt you're caught off guard, your skin flushing as you bury your face against his neck helplessly.

You're soaking his cock at this point, that felt so good. You love it when he's rough, when he takes control, when he doesn't ask but just does. He knows what your limits are, how much you can take, and you welcome the surprise when he's ready to take control. You don't mind being the instigator of course, but...

"I love your cock," you whimper as his hips buck harder into yours, clenching your fingers so tightly they start to ache against the smooth wood below you. He's holding you so tightly against it him you might as well be in his lap, his hands cupping your ass and squeezing. He can feel you shudder in his arms, you're panting, one hand clinging to him as your head tilts back once more.

He can tell you're on the verge of cumming, you're squeezing him, pressing your lips hard against his shoulder. He nudges you, urging you to lie back against the desk, knowing your arm is shaking with trying to hold yourself up at this angle.

He tugs you roughly to the edge of the desk, bracing his arms on either side of you as he kisses you, his fingers caressing up your trembling thighs as his cock enters you over and over. There's a roaring in his ears as you fuck, he can barely hear your panting breaths, the sounds of your body meeting, the shaking, and the jingling of what remained of the items on the desk.

Your fingers dig into his bare sides, pulling him hard against you where he leans over you. Your nails skim his flesh as you kiss him, your tongue parting his lips and desperately finding his own. He's cupping your breast, pinching and rolling your sensitive nipple between his fingers while your cling to him. There's a deep throbbing inside of you, on the cusp of taking over, of throwing you into the chaotic pleasure you crave. The harder he thrusts inside of you, the better it feels, and you find your back arching off the desk as he finds your swollen clit, your body going rigid beneath his.

Ryan's thrusts are relentless, even when your back arches and you threaten to cum on his producer's desk. He loves the sharp feel of your nails digging into his skin, the sheen of sweat on your chest he can just barely see in the darkness of the room. His arm thoughtlessly sweeps to the side as he moves a stack of papers out of his way, barely hearing them scatter to the floor so he can have more room.

Why is that so hot?

Your body clenches around his, hugging tight to his heavenly cock. The desk is wanting to creak beneath the two of you, and you're so tense, on the edge, on the precipice of pleasure --- you just need a push, a nudge, a bump ---!

The closer you draw to your own pleasure, the closer Ryan is getting to his. He lets his eyes close for a brief moment, enjoying the feel of your bodies together. Being with you feels so good, so right, he never wants to not be with you. Sometimes he finds it hard to believe that you enjoy being with him so much, but when you're together like this, even after a fight --- there's nowhere else he'd rather be.

Your fingers slip to the nape of his neck, caressing through his dark hair and causing him to shudder. He has no idea how much fun you have with him, when you can get him out of his comfort zone, that is. This is probably one of your best ideas to date, plus you're also riding high on the mess you've made of this desk and its contents --- you're going to have to start doing this more often.

"We should," Ryan agrees with a rasp, and you realize you must have said that out loud. You give a breathless laugh that ends on a moan, your nails abruptly digging into him as he finally gives you that nudge you'd been dying for. His lips find yours, stifling your moan of pleasure as you cum beneath him, that heat inside of you finally exploding into fireworks that take over.

Ryan rides it out with you, unable to hold back a moment longer. He presses his forehead against yours with a gasp, his fingers clenching against the desk as he groans and shudders.

Fuck.

Best Christmas party ever.

"I don't think I mind coming to work events anymore," you manage after a moment, brushing errant strands of hair out of your eyes as they slowly find his. You're still gently caressing the nape of his neck, and it's such a soothing, comforting feeling. He presses a kiss against your neck before lifting up, arching a black brow.

"I thought you hated them."

"You made me change my mind," you give him a half-smile, content. If it wasn't for the fact that a desk isn't comfortable to lay on, you'd never want to move! You wish the two of you could stay in this moment forever, just enjoy yourselves, well, more.

Just wait till you get him home.

~~~~~~~

You hastily smooth your dress down your thighs as the two of you leave the elevator heading for the party, realizing that you're nearly late for his so important speech. You make sure that your hair is back into place after the mess he made out of it, your dress is zipped, and you think you're good! He looks fine of course, except his hair is a little messy, but you like the look on him so you're not going to mention it.

You smile warmly at him as his fingers curl through yours, squeezing. You lean into him as you both make it to the hallway where you can see the Christmas party in full swing, everyone pretending to have a good time. You know you're definitely not as bored as you were earlier, that's for sure.

"I don't think we missed your speech," you murmur as you stop in the door, seeing the makeshift stage is still empty and it doesn't look like anyone's buzzing around waiting for some grand announcement.

"Oh good," Ryan looks relieved. "Chris won't murder me then for skipping out."

"Mmmhmm," you smooth at the collar of his shirt absently, your eyes flicking up. "Oh, look."

Ryan glances up, noticing the mistletoe hanging above his head. "Haven't you had enough of me, already?"

"Oh, I could never have too much of you," you chuckle, tugging on the front of his t shirt and drawing him to you. You grin up at him, glad that you're wearing heels as you look at him expectantly for a kiss. "You wouldn't tell me no, would you?"

"No."

"Ryan."

He chuckles, and his fingers rise, tilting your chin a little more before he kisses you. You lean into him, tightening your grip on his shirt as you deepen the kiss, absently listening to the chatter of the crowd and the vague sound of Christmas music. It's such a perfect moment, kissing your boyfriend beneath the twinkling lights, the soft music, the warm smell of cookies and his cologne.

You couldn't wish for a better Christmas.

Also wait.