Page 64 of Married With Malice

No matter what else is going on between us, there’s always something sinfully primitive about the way we want each other.

In the midst of enhancing Luca’s office, I think of the pink stuffed pig dressed like an elf. It was one of my favorite and ugliest acquisitions. I must have left it in the living room.

The heels of my boots click rapidly on the floor as I trek to the living room, snatch the pink elf pig, and start back to Luca’s office. Halfway down the hall, I decide to part with my panties, rolling them down in haste and kicking them to a corner.

Luca is still behind his desk but now he’s also on the phone. He’s not saying much and his eyes follow me as I scour the area for the perfect home for the pig elf.

While I’m searching, the temperature in here begins to feel a little warm.

The best way to solve this problem is by removing my red cashmere sweater.

Since I’m quite aware just how fabulous my boobs look in the red and black lace bra underneath, the bra can stay.

Luca’s chair creaks. “I know. It’s been way too long since we talked.”

The chair creaks again as he stands. I can’t think of a better spot for the pig elf than on the floor right in front of his desk.

With my back to him, I bend at the waist, showing off both my impressive flexibility and the fact that I’m bare beneath my short black pleated skirt.

“That’s a great idea,” Luca says. “Tell me more.”

His conversation doesn’t sound like mafia business. Far too polite. Anyone might be on the other end. He could be talking to the King of England for all I care.

Still bent at the waist, I take my time posing the pig elf on the floor and listen to Luca prowling around to this side of the desk. He stops when he’s directly behind me. Only the pig elf gets to witness my smile of victory.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Luca says into the phone and brushes up against my ass.

Moving inch by inch, I straighten up. His arm circles my waist from behind, molding our bodies together. With a roll of his hips, he shows off his thick erection and slides his hand down the front of my skirt, cupping between my legs.

I arch my back to meet his touch. A soft sound of pleasure vibrates in my throat as his fingers explore. He’s teasing, stroking lightly through the pleated folds of the fabric, driving me crazy with the methodical torment.

It’s not enough. My breath sticks and my hips bend on an eager quest for more of him.

“That’s great to hear.” Luca’s voice remains casual, betraying no hint that I’m grinding into his stiff cock as he fingers me through my skirt.

The scent of the wintry outdoors clings to him; clean and woodsy and mixed with his cologne. The more I breathe him in, the higher my arousal spikes.

Another minute of getting rubbed this way and I’ll come. I don’t want to come yet.

He should need to work harder for it.

“What’s in store for you next?” Luca asks his mystery caller as his hand travels under my skirt.

Two of his strong fingers slide into me. His thumb presses to add more friction. Fireworks dance in front of my eyes. No matter what my mind commands, my body doesn’t agree to hold out for longer.

I’m sinking into the warmth of his broad chest, held up only by his hand as I ride out the oncoming blitz. A flashback to our first steamy encounter in Key West makes me wish for a mirror.

I want to see him. I want to seeus.

The sound of Luca’s voice reaches my ears as if I’m listening from underwater. He’s still on the phone and asking about ‘the season’.

The season of what?

Doesn’t matter. I’m crumbling and I’m trembling as an internal fuse burns. My teeth sink into my lower lip to stifle any noise.

I’m still on the downslope of that high when Luca flips me around and bends me over the desk. My limbs, tingly and rubbery, have no problem cooperating.

Right in front of my nose there are stapled legal-sized papers full of dense paragraphs. Looks boring.

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