Page 123
Or…
I slid out of my pants, stepping free of them, leaving nothing but the lacy panties. The air-conditioned office air hit my bare thighs, and my pierced nipples hardened against the thin fabric of my shirt, the silver barbells pressing through the cotton. A soft moan slipped out just from the thought of his face when he walked in, those blue eyes going dark, that jaw ticking.
I reached up and rolled one barbell between my fingers.
God, I have it bad.
Cool metal brushed my outer thighs as I climbed up onto the desk next to the Cup. A shiver shot straight up my spine. One hand drifted between my legs, fingers slipping beneath the sheer fabric to tease along my slit. Monroe wasn’t even in the room, and I was already soaked.
Already aching.
I raised my phone.
Biting my lip, pebbled nipples visible through the white fabric, my free hand pulling the hem high enough to tease what I was hiding. The camera shutter sound filled the office.
The cold wood of his desk top bit into my knees and elbows as I lay across it, ass arched enough to be seen in the next shot. I buried my fingers between my legs. The Cup’s polished silver reflected a blurred version of what I was doing.
More camera shutter sounds echoed off the walls.
I hit send. The little whoosh my phone made as it delivered my message caused my inner walls to clench around nothing.
Me:
The Cup came… here’s some pics so you can too.
I climbed off and leaned back against the desk’s edge, pulse hammering between my legs. Fuck, my sheer panties were embarrassingly soaked. I pressed my thighs together. The anticipation was killing me, coiling low in my stomach.
He’s going to lose his mind.
Five minutes. That was all it took before footsteps thudded hard down the hall and the door flew open.
A cotton towel was slung low on his hips, water still tracing paths down his chest, that dark trail of hair disappearing beneath the terrycloth. His eyes were locked onto me, and I didn’t dare move.
“Graciella. What the fuck are you doing to me?”
Same as you’re doing to me.
He crossed the room in two strides, dropping his phone and the towel in a single motion. I had exactly one second to appreciate how thick and hard he was before his hands found my hips and he yanked me flush against him.
His mouth crashed into mine, kissing me like he was starving. Our tongues tangled, and he fisted my hair, tilting my head to give him more access. My nipples scraped against his chest through the thin shirt, and the sensation shot straight down my spine.
I moaned into his mouth.
He broke the kiss, our chests heaving in sync.
“You fingered my pussy in my office,” he said, low and rough, digging his hands into my ass. He pulled back just enough to look at me. “I about came the second I saw them.”
“That was the point,” I said, grinding against him without fully meaning to. Loving how he pulsed hot and thick against my belly.
He pushed me back onto the desk, the cool wood surface hitting the backs of my thighs as he gripped my panties.
“Hey, I like—”
The fabric tore.
“Monroe!”
“I’ll buy you the whole fucking store.” His eyes dragged up my body, like he was memorizing every curve. “Later, though, because, right now…” He pressed my thighs apart, the air hitting my exposed pussy. “I want to see how wet you are.”
