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I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve never been as hard-up as I have been lately. Except I know what’s wrong with me—pregnancy. Not that it’s wrong, but my body and emotions are still a big bag of crazy. I never know what’s going to happen next.
I’ll take sudden ravenous horniness for five hundred.
I shut my computer down, then grab my bag and stand up. “I’m ready.”
He grins at me and grabs a handful of my ass, guiding me to my door. “Good girl.”
I fight back a whimper and take a breath. I just need to make it out of the office.
He wraps his large hand around mine and leads me to the door, pulling it open and flicking off the lights as we leave. At this point, everyone in the office knows we’re together and obviously having a baby. I’m grateful to work for a company supportive of that. Not only are our coworkers happy for us, we both get paid leave. Miles gets a couple months of paid paternity leave, and I get four months of paid maternity leave. Since I’m an independent contractor and my hours vary from week to week, it’s only about seventy-five percent of what my salary would probably work out to be normally, but that’s still amazing compared to what a lot of women get. Plus, I’ll likely still continue working on contracts for AB Construction and a couple of other small businesses I work with while on maternity leave.
A couple of people say hi as we make our way out of the building, briefly distracting me from the heat coursing through my body. My vagina, however, is not distracted, and the second I’m seated in the car, I look pleadingly at Miles.
He lets out a deep laugh, then squeezes my thigh.Not helping.
“Easy, baby. Give me a few minutes.” When I don’t say anything or move, he reaches over and buckles my seatbelt for me, tucking it under my bump. “To get what you want, be a good girl.”
Well, I’m horny and want to be a brat, so I cross my arms over my chest and look out the window. Again, he laughs.Asshole.
He pulls out of the parking lot and drives down the road, taking a few turns I’m not expecting until we get to the end of a quiet, empty street. It’s a nice enough neighborhood, but there are no houses at the far end of the street. He parks the car and undoes his seatbelt, then mine. Leaning over, he kisses my neck, then drags his lips up to my ear, kissing the spot just below it as his hand comes to my thigh. “Still mad at me?”
I make some kind of noise that’s supposed to tell him I’m not. As long as he’s touching me, I’m perfect. Almost. His fingers have a bit farther to go.
He must get the message because he shoves my skirt up and yanks my underwear down to my knees.
I choke on a moan, my brain finally jumping in.
“Wait. Stop.”
His eyes widen and he stops moving, his fingers perilously close to my clit.
“Why? Are you okay?”
“What if I get there for the appointment and they know? Or I smell like sex?”
He chuckles. “Baby, it’ll be better if we do this and then you clean up because you already smell like sex.” He kisses my neck again. “I could tell as soon as I walked into the office.”
Oh god.
I groan, melting into the seat. “Touch me. Now. Please.”
“Finally.” He drags his fingers up my wet center and I whimper at the feeling. He swirls his fingers over my clit, then he pushes one finger inside me and another, rubbing my clit with his thumb. I fumble for the button and recline my seat a bit, giving him a better angle.
I am loud and unashamed as he ravages my pussy and my clit, giving me everything I need and more.
“That’s right. Say my name. Tell me who owns this pussy.”
“You do. Miles. Oh…”
I dig my fingers into his arm as I ride his hand, taking everything he gives me and begging for more.
“You’re beautiful, Ames. My perfect, good girl. Come all over my hand.”
He adjusts the position of his fingers inside me, and a second later, I lose it, shuddering and clenching around his fingers as I come, no doubt making a mess of my clothes and his seat, but I don’t care. I needed that so badly.
When I’m finished, he pulls his fingers away and makes a point of licking them off. My heart pounds as I watch him, already coming up with a plan to repay the favor later. I truly love getting him off as much as I love getting off.
He grabs a package of baby wipes from the backseat and pulls a couple out, carefully cleaning me up before pulling my underwear back up, fixing my skirt, and buckling me up again.
