Page 88 of Cava with My Colleague

“Like what?”

In answer, I push him gently backward until he’s lying on the bed. I straddle his hips, his erection straining through the fabric of his boxer-briefs and nestling between my legs.

“We can take turns,” I say. “I can show you what I like. You can show me what you want to try.”

His hands come up to grip my hips. “I don’t know what I want.”

“Then we’ll figure it out together.” I lean down, kiss him slowly. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“Then let me try something.” I sit back up, run my hands down his chest. “If you don’t like it, say stop. Okay?”

“Okay.”

I pull the band out of my hair and let it fall over my shoulder. “Remember when you pulled my hair?” I ask. “Outside my hotel room in Vienna?”

Carlos sits up, and I take his hand and, with my fingers over his, slide it against my scalp, feeling the strands between our fingers.

“I liked that, but there’s a technique to it. You don’t want to pull my head back on my neck, you want to pull against my scalp.”

His fingers curl automatically into my hair. I show him how to pull, the tug against my roots making heat bloom. “Yes.” He says it like a curse, low and raspy.

“Harder,” I whisper. “Pull my hair.”

He does—tentatively at first, then with more confidence when I gasp and arch into it. The pull sends sparks down my spine, making heat bloom across my skin.

“Like that?” he asks, voice rough.

“Harder.”

He tightens his grip, tugs sharply, and my head tilts back with a moan I can’t suppress.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “You like this.”

“I really like this.”

His other hand comes up to my hip, holding me in place while he controls the angle of my head with the grip in my hair. He pulls me down into a kiss that’s all heat and dominance and I’m already squirming against him, desperate for friction.

When he releases my hair, I’m breathing hard.

“Your turn,” I say.

“My turn for what?”

“What do you want to try?” I ask.

“I cannot think of anything else right now.” His hand tightens, and he says it like he means there’s nothing I want more instead of there’s nothing else I want to try.

Momentarily, I think, we’ll never have the chance to try if we don’t do it now.

Instead, I gently pull his wrist away from my hair and he lets go immediately. He watches me, eyes wide, while I get on my hands and knees next to him. I lower my chest, my nipples brushing against the sheets, my back arching, and Carlos’s eyes darken. I expect him to rush, to scramble, but instead he’s slow, painfully slow while he gets off the bed.

I turn my head to watch him strip off his underwear and then climb back onto the bed behind me. He kisses up my spine, and I feel his cockhead, warm and damp, against my inner thigh.

Then his hand is in my hair, pulling and turning my head to the side to meet his lips in a brutal kiss.

Fingers slip through my pussy, guiding him in, and from this angle he hits so deep. His grip tightens as he thrusts over and over again.