I Stopped Simping and the Heroines Lost Their Minds

Elena grabbed his shirt and pulled his mouth back down.

The kiss was rougher this time. Arthur caught her around the waist and hauled her against him, but the stiff, half-torn corset kept getting caught between them.

Elena swore against his mouth. She grabbed the damaged front of the waist piece herself and tore it the rest of the way open, shoving the thick fabric aside so her bare chest pressed against his shirt.

Arthur dragged his hands up her back, backing her further onto the desk. He reached blindly behind her to clear some space, his hand coming down toward a tray of glass slides.

Elena caught his wrist instantly. ”Not that.”

Arthur looked at her.

”That’s three hours of work, Vance,” Elena said.

Arthur glanced at the wrecked desk. ”You’re worried about the notes now?”

”Shut up.”

”We’re going to break something,” Arthur said. He grabbed her hips and pulled her off the edge of the desk.

Elena kept hold of his shirt as he pulled her away from the desk. Instead of letting go, she walked him backward until his calves hit the chair, shoved both hands against his shoulders, and dropped him into it.

Then she stepped between his knees and looked down at him. She leaned in and dragged her hands slowly down his chest, deliberately letting her hip brush against his erection. Arthur’s hands tightened instinctively on her thighs.

Elena looked down at his fingers digging into her thighs. She did it again, harder this time, and watched his jaw tighten.

That was enough for Arthur. He gripped her waist, stood up, and drove her backward. Elena stumbled, her back hitting the edge of a tall wooden shelving unit.

Arthur didn’t give her space to recover. He pinned her there, his hands sliding up into her messy hair, pulling her head back just enough to expose her throat.

Elena looked up at him, still breathing hard. ”That all you’ve got?”

Arthur let out a harsh laugh. ”You really don’t know when to stop.”

”You haven’t made me.”

Arthur spun her around, pressing her front against the shelves, and brought his hand down hard on her ass.

Elena gasped and went still for a second.

Then she pushed her hips straight back into him.

Arthur let his hands rest on her hips. ”Seriously?”

”What?” Elena asked, her voice entirely too innocent.

He grabbed her waist and pulled her away from the shelves before they knocked a row of containment crystals onto the floor. Arthur kicked loose parchment out of the way, stepped on the silver headpiece, and sent it skidding under the desk. Elena bumped a brass crystal stand with her hip and swore as she caught it one-handed before it tipped over.

Footsteps came down the corridor again.

This time, Elena heard it first. Instead of freezing, she leaned her back against Arthur’s chest, reached between her own legs, and started touching herself again. She lowered her voice to a filthy whisper, right over her shoulder into his ear.

Arthur caught her wrist. ”You’re enjoying this way too much.”

”Quiet,” she whispered back, grinding her ass back against his crotch as the footsteps passed outside.

Arthur turned her around, hoisted her up, and sat her down on the edge of the desk again. He unbuckled his trousers and freed himself, shoving her thighs wider apart.

Elena immediately took advantage of it. She hooked her legs around his waist, caught both shoulders, and pulled him the rest of the way against her before he could set the pace himself.

Arthur groaned as she took him in. Elena just smiled.

Elena deliberately kept things slow, watching Arthur’s face the entire time. At one point she even tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear like they weren’t half naked on top of a wrecked lab desk.

”You’re impossible,” Arthur ground out, gripping her hips.

Elena smirked. ”You came back voluntarily.”

”Yeah. My mistake.”

Arthur tightened his grip on her thighs and stopped letting her drag it out. The slow teasing disappeared fast after that.

Elena’s smug look disappeared. Her hands grabbed his shoulders and she tried to keep talking anyway.

”Arthur, you... you think you can just—fuck!”

Whatever she had been about to say disappeared with the rest of the sentence. Her nails dug into his back and she stopped trying to look clever for him.

Arthur didn’t give her time to recover. He kept fucking her through it, his own breathing tearing out of his throat until he finally lost his grip and finished deep inside her, his forehead dropping against her shoulder.

Neither of them moved immediately.

For once, Elena didn’t have anything smart to say.

Arthur eventually pulled back and looked around.

The lab was a disaster. The black robe was hanging off one of Elena’s arms, the corset was ruined, and her hair was a tangled mess. The floor was littered with expensive silk, scattered notes, and discarded gloves.

Elena followed his gaze. She stared at the wreckage of her workspace for a long, quiet moment.

”You’re helping me clean this,” she said.

Arthur stepped back and fixed his clothes. ”Absolutely not.”

Elena gave him a look.

Arthur sighed, running a hand through his hair. ”Fine.”

They started putting the lab back together. Arthur gathered the papers while Elena rescued the equipment they’d nearly knocked over and shoved the ruined costume pieces into a pile. Arthur found the silver headpiece under the desk and dropped it onto Elena’s head. It sat crooked.

”Fuck off,” Elena told him, swatting his hand away.

Arthur laughed and kissed the side of her head anyway.

Arthur picked up his bag and headed for the door.

”Hati,” Elena said behind him.

Arthur stopped with his hand on the doorknob.

Elena was already sorting the surviving notes back into piles. The crooked silver headpiece was still sitting on her hair.

”I still need the sample.”

Arthur stared at her for a second.

”You’re unbelievable.”

Elena didn’t even look up. ”Don’t forget it.”