Page 87 of Cava with My Colleague

“Yeah.”

“And last night⁠—”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re leaving⁠—”

“I know.” I take a step toward him. “I know all of it. But right now, can we just⁠—”

He closes the distance between us and kisses me. Hard. Desperate. Like he’s trying to say everything he can’t put into words.

I kiss him back with the same urgency, my hands fisting in his shirt, pulling him closer. He walks me backward until my legs hit the bed and we tumble onto it together.

Everything is hot and fast. The late afternoon sun streaming through the window makes Carlos’s skin glow, and soon we’re both in our underwear, panting and grinding against each other.

Carlos’s hips move fast and hard, his erection right where I need it. His hand is on my breast, and when we’re breathing too hard to kiss anymore, his breath is hot on my forehead.

The moment I have the realization that I could come like this, Carlos pulls back with a curse. His fingers hook my black lace panties and yank them down my legs. He shoves his way between my legs, tossing my thigh over his shoulder and plunging his fingers inside me.

I jolt, groaning his name.

“I want to taste it this time,” he says, before putting his hot mouth on my pussy.

My hips rise off the bed, but Carlos presses back, firm and relentless. His fingers have found the exact right spot, and he sucks my clit, hard. It doesn’t take long at all before I’m coming and grinding against his face while his hands pump, pump, pump.

He eases off carefully and I wipe sweat off my brow, panting, while he crawls up to me.

“Well.” I swallow. “You didn’t need instructions for that one.”

Carlos presses his lips together, smirking, pleased. “I did some research.”

“Oh you did? When? We’ve barely been apart today.”

“On the train.”

I lift my head. “You were looking at porn on the train?”

“Research,” he insists.

I laugh, falling back on the bed. My heart rate is finally slowing down to normal, but then Carlos ramps it back up again.

“I also looked into how to use a riding crop.” His eyes are so serious, watching me.

“Damnit. I didn’t bring it.”

“Next time,” he says, and presses a kiss to my temple.

I turn to face him, curling my hands up below my chin. “Did you research that because you know I like it, or because it interests you?”

He mirrors me. His eyes are dark brown, framed by heavy, beautiful lashes. “I have never tried it. But I have thought about it since that day.”

“If you didn’t know how to do it until you researched it, how did you imagine it happening?” I ask.

He closes his eyes, and I can tell he’s thinking about it, not shutting me out, in the way he hums and looks pensive. “I thought about the anticipation of it. You wanting something, and waiting for it, and knowing that it was me who was going to give it to you.”

I squeeze my thighs together.

“We can do that in other ways,” I tell him. “There are other things I like.”