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He hadn’t been wearing underwear.
I didn’t know what Quinn’s aversion to wearing underwear was, but the man hated them.
The only time he wore them was when he was forced to—i.e., working out or going somewhere that required him to be in them.
But now, under his dress uniform, I was unsurprised to see his cock pop up with nothing left to contain it.
I’d always loved his cock.
I’d only ever seen two in my life, his and my brother’s accidentally in a traumatizing event when I was thirteen that had us both walking into each other in the hallway when we thought we were alone.
But I knew Quinn’s to be perfect.
It was long and thick, perfectly veiny. The head was prominent. The tip a darker pink than the rest of him.
It was just… perfect.
And the things that perfect dick could do to me…
He caught his cock and pumped it twice, his eyes staying on me the entire time.
“You’re staring,” he snarled.
I was.
“I…” I shifted, my legs momentarily breaking apart, and I saw the moment he realized what he was doing to me.
It was hard to hide the evidence of arousal when it was coating my inner thighs.
And the stupid lights above the bed framed it almost indecently, allowing the glare to flicker off my arousal in an obscene way.
He snarled something under his breath before prowling to me.
I watched, heart in my throat, as he came my way.
“Are you sure this is a bad idea?” he asked as he pushed my legs apart and all but forced his way between them.
“Um,” I hesitated, wondering what it was that we’d been talking about.
Oh! The stupidness of this decision.
Sex always complicated things.
Right?
“Baby,” he said. “You’re not sounding very convincing.”
That was because his cock was now pressed up against my pussy.
I could feel the head dipping between my wet folds, coating the length of it in my arousal.
“I’m trying,” I panted. “But…”
But I couldn’t think straight.
Not with his cock delving between my pussy lips.
Not with the head of his cock running against my clit, making me think of nothing but the way he felt.
