Free Desk Job (London Menage Book 2) by Lily Harlem

more. “That’s it.”
    He reached up and caught my breast in a gentle hold.
    I clamped my free hand over his and arched my spine. “Don’t stop.”
    It was almost there. My climax about to tumble out of me. The soft sound of his fingers working with my moisture filtered upward, he was going steady and firm, each massaging stroke of my internal hot spot combined with the wicked way he was treating my clit.
    “I’m coming.” I tightened my grip on his hair. “Oh … fuck.”
    For a few sweeter than sweet seconds, I hung in the balance, knowing that an orgasm was about to consume me, overwhelm me.
    Andre stayed with me, pushing it higher, making it more exquisite.
    Suddenly it spilled over, washing through my body and tensing every muscle. Electric currents of bliss traveled over my skin, clamped my pussy around his fingers and made my clit a buzz of pleasure.
    I curled my toes, yanked his hair and wriggled my hips, I wanted more but at the same time it was too much.
    “Oh God…” I moaned, opening my eyes and watching as his nose butted into my pubic hair. “Fuck…”
    He lifted his face and studied me. His mouth and chin were shiny and his cheeks red.
    “Andre…” I said, panting. “That…”
    “That hit the spot?”
    “Just a bit.” I pulled at his hair, reached for his upper arm and yanked that too. “Come here.”
    He slipped his fingers from my pussy and crawled upward.
    I was throbbing and wet for him and pressed myself against his boxers. “I think it’s your turn.”
    “I hope so.” He kissed me, feeding me my own flavor. “But hang on.”
    He lifted up and twisted to the side, reached for the bedside locker.
    The flash of a red condom wrapper caught my eye then he sat back and removed his boxers.
    Fuck.
    He had one seriously gorgeous cock. Circumcised, dead straight and with one long vein standing proud on the underside. His pubic hair, like his body hair, was light brown though thick and leading up to his navel in a fanned shape.
    Rolling the condom down his cock, he appeared tense, his breaths fast and deep.
    I couldn’t wait to feel him inside me, be surrounded by him, full of him. Impatient, I sat and kissed the ball of his shoulder, slid my hand around his waist. He was so hot and solid and smelled of pure man.
    He caught my mouth in another one of his intense kisses and forced me to lie back.
    Again I spread my legs, and this time his cock nudged my damp entrance. I wrapped my legs around the backs of his legs, urged him to push into me.
    He did, first an inch then more and more.
    I held my breath as he stretched me wide, filling me up.
    He broke the kiss and stared down at me.
    I kept my lips parted, looked back up at him. At this moment in time, Andre was my world, my everything. He was part of me, he held me, invaded me. It was everything I’d hoped it would be.
    “Ah, Jesus, you’re … so tight.” He frowned and entered me to the hilt, his balls pressing up against my ass.
    “Oh…” I curled my toes, clenched my fists. “Yes…”
    He touched the tip of his nose to mine and scooped his arm beneath my shoulders, holding me closer still.
    “Fuck me,” I whispered.
    “No, I’ll make love to you.” He pulled his cock almost out, then eased back in.
    My already sensitive G-spot sent a zing of pleasure around my body. I gasped.
    “You okay?” he asked.
    “Never … better.”
    “Glad to hear it.” He rubbed his groin up against my clit.
    Again I groaned. I’d just orgasmed but another could develop pretty damn quickly if he kept doing that. “More.”
    He kind of chuckled but it was strained. Then he pulled out and smoothed back in, catching all the right places in me and on me.
    I held him tighter, pressed my face against the side of his neck and bucked my hips to meet his.
    He set up a steady rhythm. I matched it by moving with him.
    Soon our sweat had made our chests slick, the air was hot with our breath and climax was the only goal.
    “Fuck, I can’t last,”