He pressed his open mouth directly against the soaked lace of her panties — no more teasing, no more skirting the edges.
The taste hit him first. Thick. Warm. Salt-sweet musk flooding my tongue through wet cotton. My jaw had been aching for minutes but I didn't care.
His cock was so hard against his zipper it had its own pulse — throbbing in time with hers, leaking enough pre-cum that he could feel the wet spot spreading across the front of his slacks like shame he was proud of.
Somewhere above them, her father was laughing. Faint through six floors of concrete. Gerald Ashworth, celebrating the deal with his son-in-law.
Her husband.
Six floors up. Drinking to their cleverness. Toasting the merger that would make them both richer. Probably slapping Dominic on the back right now. Dominic probably in his thoughts saying something about how lucky he was to have married such a "sharp, dependable girl."
