When her nipples pucker even more in response to the cool air pumping out of the air vent above our heads, I suck it into my mouth. As Isabelle’s moan causes precum to seep into the crotch of my pants, I circle my tongue around her nipple before grazing it with my teeth. Her body’s response to my touch is so addictive, I spend the next several minutes admiring her breasts. I nip on them, lick them, then blow hot air on them to encourage their razor-sharp appearance, then I drop my focus to the rest of her body.
I kiss her stomach, swivel my tongue around her belly button, then press a kiss to the fine seam running down the middle of her sheer panties. I palm my cock in an endeavor to calm it down when my name rips from Isabelle’s throat with a groggy moan. Her clit is throbbing with so much need that when I squash my lips with the damp material to kiss her pussy through her panties, the tip of my nose rubs against her clit. The briefest connection almost triggers an orgasm, and Isabelle is so desperate for it to reach fruition, she whines when my mouth continues its exploration of her body.
My lips lift against the silky-smooth skin on her inner right thigh when she weaves her fingers through my hair before she tugs me back toward her dripping sex.
“Patience, Isabelle,” I murmur on a growl, my patience as thinly stretched as hers.
I would answer her pleas if I hadn’t promised to devour every inch of her. With Isabelle’s heated gaze watching my every move, I bite, lick, and suck on the skin from her inner thigh to her right heel, then I do the same to her left side, except I go in the opposite direction.
I’m having so much fun tasting her, by the time I reach her delicious-smelling pussy, not an ounce of weight is felt on my shoulders, not even Isabelle’s leg I drape over my back so I can have unrestricted access to her heated core.
A growl rumbles in my chest when I drag the tip of my nose along the seam of her panties. “You smell so fucking good.”
So good, I can’t hold back for a second longer. I suck her clit into my mouth through her lace panties, moaning when it causes her legs to pull out from beneath her. After I ensure her she won’t ever fall on my watch, she moans through the sensation lighting up every inch of her.
Her husky grunts are as relentless as the strokes of my tongue when I coerce her back from the orgasmic ride my briefest touch instigated. I fuck her with my mouth, my dedicated attention heightened by the thought I can make her come within a nanosecond of placing my mouth on her.
I love how responsive her body is to my touch. It’s as addictive as the number of times my name spills from Isabelle’s throat as she shivers and shakes through a long, tremoring orgasm.
Once the shudders bristling every fine hair on her body subdue, I shred her panties from her body before doubling the movements of my mouth. I graze my teeth over the hood of her clit, poke my tongue inside her pussy, and use it to lap up every drop of goodness dripping out of her. I eat her without constraint, her taste alone so erotically satisfying my cock stops begging to be immersed in her wetness.
Before Isabelle, the needs of my bed companions were never thoroughly scrutinized. I don’t know of a single woman who left my apartment without being pleased, but I never set out to guarantee that streak would continue. I didn’t invite them to my apartment to please them. I wanted to get off.
I’m not facing the same set of notions now. I want to make Isabelle come. I want to hear my name leave her throat over and over and over again. And I look set to achieve that when the tightening of her muscles exposes how close she is to detonating for the second time.
As frantic “ohs” and meowed pleas spill from her lips, I go to town on her pussy. I lather it with my attention, the unyielding movements on my mouth only weakening when the most beautiful sight presents for the second time. Isabelle throws her head back against the door before bearing down on my mouth, the rock-and-roll routine of her hips catastrophic to my shrewdness.
I kiss her pussy until an overwhelming desire for her to sample how exquisite she tastes sees me standing to my feet and sealing my mouth over hers. She freezes for the quickest second when the ardent flavor of her arousal awakens her taste buds, but in less than a second, she discovers what I unearthed the moment I peered down at her at my feet.
She’s a weakness for all of humankind. She laps up the residue of her climax off my lips before returning my kiss with so much intensity, the shimmers I plan to become accustomed to within a detrimentally short period of time revitalize the lusty hue of her skin. She’s close to orgasming again but needs a little more stimulation.
More than happy to help her with that, I shift my focus from her mouth to her breasts. I’ve only just drawn the pert bud between my lips when Isabelle groans a moan I haven’t heard the past thirty minutes. It isn’t brimming with lusty petitions. It’s strangled with worry and perhaps even a little bit of remorse.
Incapable of ignoring the hesitance of a woman, I pull back from her rosy nipple before raising my eyes to her face. I realize my endeavor to wipe the riled expression off my face failed when Isabelle mutters, “I want this.” After ensuring I can’t miss the absolute honesty in her eyes, she nudges her head to the far side of the room. “I just don’t want it recorded.”
When I follow the direction of her nudge, I curse my stupidity to hell. I forgot about the cameras I implemented to ensure incidents like today weren’t a commonality. Usually, thefts in establishments like this occur behind the scenes. They don’t blatantly steal in public. Well, they didn’t.
I drift my eyes back to Isabelle when she asks, “Can you get Hugo to turn the camera off?” When her voice exposes her suggestion centers more around the hope of us finishing our misdemeanor than not having it recorded for the world to see, I realize I’ll need more than a sturdy desk to devour her as she deserves.
“I could…” I pause to add tension. It does that and so much more when my tongue delves out to wet my lips. I can taste Isabelle on my mouth. It has me hard again instantly and confident we need to take this elsewhere. “But I want to fuck you in a bed because once I’m done with you, you’ll no longer have the ability to walk straight.”
A haughtiness I haven’t experienced since the first million ticked over in my bank account fills me when Isabelle’s cheeks inflame at the end of my reply. She wants the same things I do, and the knowledge has me putting actions in place to ensure it can happen sooner rather than later.
After winking at Isabelle, doubling the redness on her cheeks, I remove my cell phone from my pocket, then dial a frequently called number.
Hugo answers a second later. “Boss.”
I can’t tell if the humor in his voice is complements of my fiery pulse racing down the line or something funny Hunter said in the background, but since I don’t have time to waste, I get down to business. “Hugo, I need you to wipe the images off the camera in the manager’s office at 57 for the last hour.”
Nothing against Hunter, he is my head of security for a reason, but I’d rather Hugo remove the footage from the cameras because the reason I hired him assures me he won’t be tempted to sneak a peek. I can’t vouch the same for Hunter. His antics the past couple of months could keep Keke’s entire payroll afloat if he were willing to pay for the privilege.
“Are you talking about the cameras we disabled when Layla bolted before you could fire her?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer him. “Because if you are, they’re already disabled. I turned them off the instant I knew Isabelle was with you. No one wants to watch their boss get freaky, not even Hunter, and we both know how much of an interest he’s had in voyeurism the past couple of months.”
I shouldn’t smile at his theatrics. However, I do.
“Thanks, Hugo.”
I steal his ability to nosedive my mood by disconnecting his call, then I return my cell phone to my pocket. Any concerns about a wailing libido are lost when my fingertip briefly graces the damp material in my pocket. I unknowingly slipped Isabelle’s panties into my pocket after tugging them off her body. My recent fascination for collecting her racy undergarments is not lost on me when I head to the bathroom so I can prepare her for an hour’s drive back toMummo Kotiwithout needing to return her panties.
