Page 56 of The Woman in the Garage

That was all he needed.

His hands went to my hips, turning me away from him, then pressing his hand to the center of my back, pushing until I went down on my forearms on the desk, ass out for him.

I heard him draw in a steadying breath as he lifted my skirt again, tucking it around my waist. He went for my panties next, drawing them over my ass, then slipping them down my legs.

I stepped obediently out of them as he moved in closer, his fingers splaying my ass cheeks before one moved between, two fingers thrusting inside me again.

“Still fucking dripping for me,” he said, his voice thick with his own need.

His wallet hit the desk next to me. He fished in it one-handed as his other fingers kept thrusting inside me.

Finding the foil, he left the wallet beside me.

I heard the jingle of his belt as he worked it free, then the lowering of his zipper.

My walls clenched around his fingers, getting that rumble out of him again. Only then, it was starting to sound more like a growl.

There was the whoosh as his pants fell, then the crinkle of the foil.

I was seconds away from turning, from finally getting to see his need.

But then he was pressing a hand into the small of my back as his cock teased between my lips. He stroked me for a long moment, teasing the head of his cock over my clit, then tapping it until I was squirming, until I was whimpering and grabbing the edge of the desk.

When I was sure I couldn’t take the torment for another moment, he slid his cock back down my cleft and thrust deep inside me.

The feel of him—so welcome, so needed—had me momentarily forgetting where we were.

At work.

With my employees just a few dozen feet away.

The moan welled up from somewhere deep, the sound filling the small office.

“Shh, baby,” Santo reminded me, stilling when he was in to the base. “Or I won’t be able to keep fucking you,” he said, brushing my hair to the side so he could see my face. “You want me to fuck you, right?” he asked.

“Yes,” I whimpered as his fingers slid down my sides, then around me, his hands grabbing my breasts just as he started to move in me, slipping almost completely out.

My walls instinctively tightened around him, holding on. That little growl escaped him again as his fingers found my nipples, twisting them to the point of pain, which somehow only made my desire grow.

Just as slowly as he withdrew, he slid back in, dragging a little whimper out of me. But this time, I kept my lips pressed tightly together.

He kept that pace for a few aching moments before he finally lost his grip on his control.

His hands left my breasts, grabbing my hips instead, using them to drag me back against him each time he thrust forward, making me take every thick inch of him.

His movements were just hard at first, unhurried but exquisite.

It wasn’t long, though, before we were both too needy, too desperate for release to take it slow.

He was fucking me then—deep and fast, driving me quickly toward that edge.

I forgot all about being quiet then. I was too far gone. Too wrapped up in him, in the feelings he was creating inside me.

He sent me teetering on that edge.

I sucked in a deep breath to cry out my release as I started to fall.

Santo’s hand slapped over my mouth just in time, muffling my cries as the orgasm crashed through me over and over again.

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