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“Not in the storage room,” he said, obviously knowing more about that than I did.
“We can’t…”
“Sure we can,” he said, turning away and pulling me behind him.
Honestly, I didn’t even try to resist. I knew I should have, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I was beyond turned on and it had everything to do with trying to resist him. I just didn’t have any defenses left.
Shane went inside the storage room, pulling me in, then somehow simultaneously slamming the door and shoving me back against it. I didn’t even have time to register the impact of my body on the solid door before his lips crushed into mine. His arms went onto the door at the sides of my head, caging me in. My arms went around his center, pulling him flush against me, moaning against his lips when I realized he wasn’t lying about being hard; his cock was pressing urgently into my lower stomach.
His tongue moved in to toy with mine as his hands slid down the door until they planted beside my hips, sinking in hard there for a second before sliding around and grabbing my ass hard. Before I realized his intention, he was pulling me off my feet by my ass, making me wrap my legs around his center instinctively. His hands stayed planted there as my arms went around his neck as he turned us. It was a novelty to be carried. I wasn’t a big girl by any stretch of the word, but I was tall and a healthy weight for my height, not the kind of girl a guy ever wanted to haul around. But Shane, being the giant wall of muscle he was, didn’t seem to be bothered in the least as he easily moved us across the room, turned us again, and then we were going down, Shane sitting with me straddling him.
I pulled up, brows drawn together. “Why is there a couch in the stock room?” I asked with a confused smile.
“Fee redecorates a lot,” Shane said, voice sex-rough. “Convenient for us,” he said, hands moving around from my back and up my stomach, slipping under the hem of my shirt and stroking over the skin that seemed to come alive under his touch. His fingers toyed with the lower edge of my bra for an excruciating moment before moving upward and cupping over my breasts, squeezing hard, making me let out a low moan as my hips jerked against him, begging for relief. His fingers grabbed the cups and yanked them down, his palms covering my exposed breasts, his fingers rolling my nipples into hardened points.
Then, well, there was no going back.
I leaned forward, arching my back so he could continue his sweet torment to my breasts as I took his lips in mine and let my hips lower down and grind against him, his hard cock gliding over my greedy pussy, slowly driving me upward.
The thick material of both our jeans, though, was preventing any kind of completion, just building to the painful need for release. Shane’s hands left my breasts for a moment, but only because he was snagging the material of my shirt and yanking it upward and off me. There wasn’t even a hint of hesitation as his hands went around my back and released the clasps of my bra, baring me to him completely.
“Fuck,” he said, shaking his head with a small smile. Then his hands went to my ribs and pulled me forward by them, his lips closing around one of my nipples, making my sex clench hard and a rush of wet to soak my panties. Then his teeth nipped into it, making my head fall back on a loud moan. I pushed my hips forward again, trying to ease the ache, and letting out a grumble that made Shane’s chest rumble as he chuckled. He moved across my chest for a moment, lavishing over the other nipple, before raising his head and watching me for a second with heavy eyes. “Had about enough?” he asked oddly, making my brows draw together before his hands moved over to the fly of my jeans, freeing the button and zip. “Ready to stop playing around?” he clarified just a second before his hand slipped inside my pants and panties, wasting no time with more teasing. Thank God, because I was pretty sure I would combust if he did. “Fucking soaked,” he groaned, sliding his finger up my pussy and finding my clit easily.
“No, don’t,” I whimpered when his finger left my clit and slid lower.
“Shh,” he demanded softly, his fingers stroking up my lips, all my nerve endings feeling more sensitive than they ever had before.
“You said you were going to stop playing around,” I said, my hands digging so hard into his shoulders that I was sure there would be crescent-shaped bruises there from my nails for days.
