Page 101 of Throttle

Ugh. He feels too good.

I’m powerless around him and would easily crumble. My feelings for him are so intense that a mere touch could ignite me into flames. The connection between us is so strong. A unique and irreplaceable sensation.

“And this skirt. How you tease me. How I find it impossible to stop imagining my cock deep inside you while you wear this tiny thing.” His warm breaths pierce my skin.

I smile. “Throttle. We can’t do this here. I should get back.” Even though I love teasing him.

His touch grazes my dampness before he thrusts two fingers inside me.

I cry out. Almost scream, but I bite my lip.

“You’re soaked for me.”

“Because I want you and need you so badly, Throttle.” I press into him, riding his hand, and I’m on the verge of another magical orgasm.

There’s a quick chill of air when he flaps my skirt up, bunching it in his fist as I continue to grind.

I thrust to him while holding onto the shelving for support.

Yes! Yes!

He drops his jeans, freeing his massive penis and my tongue goes across my lips, hungry, thirsty for more.

“You know the rules. I want you to come on my dick. Not my hand.” He secures my head in his palm for safety and lifts my thigh, keeping it raised. He moves in, fire surrounding us, and in one quick motion, his cock is inside me.

Stars—stars fill my vision, blurring it with pure bliss. This is an addiction I can never escape.

“I will never get enough of this pussy, Tequila. Jesus Christ, you feel so fucking good, babe.”

I grab his hair, my head tilts back, and I release a suppressed scream. So I thought. The shelf shakes with every thrust, and when he raises my leg higher for a deeper angle, I can't control myself. I explode. And so does Throttle. It's like he deliberately waited for our bodies to come together, resulting in a more passionate moment, and I've never experienced it to this extent.

With heavy breathing and our foreheads touching, I realize we had sex in the supply room, small enough to be called a closet, at my job. At his club.

“Do you think they heard us?” I ask.

“They heard. There’s no way they didn’t.” He grins.

How mortifying.

Throttle backs away, fixing my skirt, and kisses my forehead. “Ready?”

“For getting fired? Yeah. I suppose. Oh, and I have your cum dripping out of me.”

“Fuck. I love how that sounds coming from your pretty mouth.” He kisses me again. “Chain will not fire you.”

“I just left the bar and had sex in his storage room. I’m for sure getting canned.”

“One.” Throttle kisses my cheek. “He won’t fire you. You would have to mess up severely. And two.” He lays another to the side of neck. “I’ll just say it was my fault, dragging you in here against your will.”

“Yes. Because it sounded like it happened that way.”

He smiles, showing off his one-sided dimple. “Come on. Let’s go.”

Hand in hand, we step out and declare our official status as a couple, causing applause and whistling to break out. My face is burning, and I turn and bury my head into Throttle's powerful chest.

Every club member, including the random customer sitting at the bar, is smiling and clapping.

I peak over Throttle’s shoulder, and Tank’s by the pool table, sounding out a two-finger mouth whistle.

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