I moved in behind her, knees bracketing her mat as I rested my cock between her cheeks. Her soft gasp told me she’d felt every inch of it—hot, hard, and already leaking. My hands gripped her hips like they belonged there, guiding her back so I could slide between her slick heat.
She pretended to be startled, letting out a pitiful cry and fumbling her palms against the mat like she hadn’t been putting on a goddamn show.
“I thought you were working,” she said, breathless.
I leaned in close, dragging the head of my cock along the seam of her leggings. My dick jerked beneath my shorts.
“I came to make a coffee,” I growled. “But I was sabotaged by a dirty little slut.”
Her back arched—reflex.
Her body always gave her away.
“You think I don’t know what you’re doing?” I whispered against her spine, biting the words into her skin. “This wasn’t yoga. This was a fucking summons.”
She whimpered as I pulled back, only to watch her arse cradle my dick. It fit perfectly between her cheeks. My hands locked tighter around her hips.
“Tell me, baby,” I murmured, kissing the back of her neck. “Did you want to get fucked face down on this mat? Or were you just stretching for fitness?”
She didn’t answer—couldn’t.
Too busy trembling.
So I reached between her legs and rubbed the truth out of her.
“What are you on about?” she moaned.
But her hips—
Those sinful, traitorous hips—rolled back against me like she hadn’t just spent the last fifteen minutes air-humping the mat in Lycra.
Liar.
I gritted my teeth and ground my cock between her, going lower until I caught her pussy. It was just enough to make her sob.
“Oh, so now you’re innocent?” I murmured darkly. “Just doing your innocent little workout while your fiancé tries to concentrate in his office, yeah?”
Her fingers clenched the edge of the mat. My ring sparkled on her finger.
“This is fitness, not foreplay,” she snapped, breathless.
I grinned. “Really? Then explain why I could smell your pussy from six feet away.”
She shuddered. I slipped one hand from her hip and slipped it beneath her leggings to cup her cunt. Swollen. Soaked. Throbbing.
A landmine dressed in yoga pants.
“You were bent over,” I whispered, dragging my fingers up and down her slit, “tight little leggings jammed so far up your crack I thought you were trying to get fucked by the sun.”
She gasped as I pressed one finger into her slowly. “Tell me the truth, baby. Did you stretch because you wanted to feel healthy, or because you wanted to make me snap?”
“I—” she tried to lift her head, but I slapped her ass hard.
She moaned. Loud.
“Try again. And don’t lie to me. I’ve got a cock full of blood and a whole bottle of lube waiting on the table.”
A beat passed. Then another. Then she whispered—
