Page 90 of Crushing Clover

“No, Saint.”

He stalked out of the room as he zipped his pants and straightened his uniform.

“Did I just make an enemy for life?” I asked, not expecting Lucky to reply.

“Blowjobs don’t usually put people in the enemy for life category.”

“It wasn’t that great. I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

“You made the most tightly controlled man I’ve ever met come in your mouth when he really didn’t want to. You’re not doingtoo shabby.” He laughed and pulled me to my feet. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t for Lucky to pull me to him and kiss me deeply, not only uncaring about the fact that another man had come in my mouth but actively tasting him on my tongue.

“That was fucking hot.”

“Watching me give Saint a blowjob?”

“That. Bossing you around while you did it. Feeling like I had a bit of control over him, in the moment. Don’t ever tell him I said that, or he’ll kick my ass.”

“Why do you let them boss you around, anyway?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s always been that way, and it gets me off.”

“But sometimes you fantasize about being the boss.”

He gave me his charming, lopsided grin. “That’s what you’re for.” He grabbed my hair, making me protest as he pushed me toward the couch. “I like being the boss of this soft, squirmy little girl who’s obsessed with my cock.”

“Saint didn’t say you could have me. Aren’t you supposed to be working?”

“Saint didn’t say I couldn’t. This is one of those ask for forgiveness rather than permission situations.”

“Were you the one who used me in the middle of the night, last night?”

He shook his head. “With Saint in the room? Even I’m not that brave.”

I wanted to question him more, but he was turning me on my knees to face the couch. “But I’m sore!”

“Do you think my coaching lessons are free?”

“Your rates are exorbitant,” I complained as he leaned me over the couch.

“Be a good girl, or your panties are going right back in your mouth.”

“How did you know?”

“I’m like Sherlock at the scene of a crime. I know what I’m looking at.” He pointed at the sodden lump of underwear next to the couch. Before I could say anything else, he was sinking into my pussy. I was turned on, and more than a little slippery with the mess Rush had left.

He sighed with pleasure.

“Guys who don’t want to go second don’t know what they’re missing. I’ll take second or third any day.”

He pounded into me, not taking it slow, even though I was sore. My body accepted his invasion with disturbing abandon. I thought I’d never be able to catch up, but he reached around me to find my clit with the same unerring accuracy all three of them had. My clit was sore, though, and too sensitive, but didn’t take long to bring me from zero to sixty. Only moments later, I was fighting back my orgasm, not ready for it to be over so soon.

“That’s right beautiful, let me feel you squeezing my cock with this tight pussy. Fuck, I swear I could live inside you all day, every day.” His words were punctuated with snapping thrusts of his hips.

“Please, go slow,” I begged. I wanted him to slow down—to make it last.

“We have forty-five seconds before one of them barges in here to drag me back to work. Hurry up, or they’re going to catch us.” The feeling of doing something we weren’t supposed to only made it hotter.

“Fuck, you’re going to come so hard,” he predicted like some pornographic weatherman. “I can feel your pussy quivering around me. Don’t scream or Saint is going to be pissed.”

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