Page 21 of Jagger

Pushing them aside, my fingers meet her pussy lips in coaxing. They’re slick, like her panties, and the antsy motherfucker in my pants strains against its denim confines, begging to freed.

To be buried in that silken heat.

One digit, another. I slide them both inside, crooking rhythmically against her sweet spot, gaze rapt on how her face contorts with pleasure.

“Jag… Oh, God,” she pants, head lolling back. “Fuck, we—”

“Don’t tell me we can’t do this in here again. We already are. Just accept it and let me make you feel good.”

“You’re killing me…”

“Likewise, fucking likewise. How’s it feel, baby? Payback’s a bitch, isn’t it?” I coo, finger-fucking her without reserve.

Vida nods mindlessly, death-gripping the front edge of her desk. “I’m sorry, I’m s-sorry! I won’t do it a-again!”

“You’re damn right you won’t, ‘cause the next time I fuck you, it’s going to be in my bed, not that goddamn club. You hear me?”

Another nods in her breathless state, body locking up in my grasp. She’s sheer seconds from falling over the edge.

Literal seconds.

Walls clamping.

Her juices coating my fingers…

And that’s when I withdraw, letting her crash back down to reality. She whimpers at the loss, staring at me in disbelief, almost like I betrayed her.

I both hate it and love it.

Especially when her eyes widen all the more especially as I bring my fingers to my lips and lap up every bit of her taste.

“You’re a—”

“I’m off this weekend,” I cut her off, wedging my way back between her legs. “Let me spend more than fifteen minutes with you. We can do whatever you want—coffee, dinner, a movie. Anything.”

Vida stalls for a moment, head still spinning from such an abrupt come-down, but eventually I see that little smirk play on her lips. “I’d actually really like that. How about Friday night? Dinner? Maybe a movie after?”

Whatever you’d like, baby. Whatever you’d fucking like.

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