The Man Who Has No Heart - Victoria Quinn Page 0,74
fish, and occasionally poultry. “Of course.” She turned back to me, her hands resting at her waist in front of me, behaving professionally even though no one could see us. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“Yes.” She was in a tight gray dress with heels, her hair pinned over one shoulder. I liked the way she looked no matter what she wore, but she looked more beautiful every time I saw her.
She waited for an answer.
“I want you to bend over my desk so I can fuck you.” I slid out of my jacket, letting it fall down my arms and to the floor. My hands went to my belt next, getting it loose so I could get to the button and zipper underneath.
She was still for a moment, her eyes slightly wide because she couldn’t believe the instruction that had just flown out of my mouth. Her breathing picked up right away, her lips slightly parted so she could get enough air into her lungs.
When my slacks were loose, I stepped over into her and kissed her hard, my hands immediately yanking up her dress and gripping her cheeks. My fingers kneaded the strong flesh as my lips devoured hers, so anxious to fuck her, as if I hadn’t had her last night.
She kissed me back, her hands moving to my chest outside my clothes. “What about Theresa?”
“I don’t give a shit about Theresa.” I pushed Cleo over the front of my desk, her perky ass gorgeous in the natural light. I pulled her pink thong over her ass and shoved myself inside her, flooded with her wetness.
A moan escaped, and she tried to silence it halfway through, like she’d already forgotten there was someone just outside the door.
My palms flattened against the desk as I leaned over her, bucking myself into her hard, driving my dick through her tightness, getting utterly lost in this gorgeous woman. My abs rubbed against her perky ass, and I moaned as I fucked her, my balls getting tight almost instantly. My hand tightened on her hair, and I turned her head so I could breathe against her cheek. “This is my office. I can fuck you whenever I goddamn well please.”
I leaned against my headboard with my hands spanning across her stomach and back. She was so petite in my grasp, her narrow waist so easy for me to squeeze and make my fingertips touch.
I watched her rise and fall slowly, lifting herself to the top of my dick before she pushed down again. A build-up of cream coated my base as she continued to slather my dick with it every time she moved. My head was tilted back so I could watch her face, the way she bit her bottom lip when my dick hit the right spot. Her nipples were sharp like the points of diamonds, the sexy curve of her tits so sexy.
I breathed hard as I watched her, not from exertion, just arousal. I’d already come once, and my own come had dripped onto my balls because we kept going, making my dick hard again within thirty seconds.
Her hands gripped my wrists then brought them to her tits because she liked the way I touched her, the way I squeezed her tits then flicked my thumb over the nipples. She moaned when she felt me, keeping her steady pace up and down my dick.
I closed my eyes for a moment, fighting the urge to come, fighting the tightness in my balls because I wanted to give her another load. My sex life had been so fucking stale before this. Even when those girls were in my bed, leaving their panties behind on purpose so I wouldn’t forget about them, they were nothing compared to the woman on top of me, the woman who had my soul wrapped around her finger.
Her hands went to my shoulders, and she leaned forward slightly, arching her back as she ground her clit against my pelvic bone. She moaned in my face as she came, not afraid to show me how she wanted to get off. Her tits rested in my palms as she grinded, her sexy moans echoing in my bedroom, erasing the memory of anyone who had ever been there before. She started to slow, catching her breath as her nails withdrew from my flesh.
My shoulders and back were always covered with little scratches. I spotted them in the mirror sometimes, and I liked the way they looked,