Rohit cupped her chin and leaned in to kiss her.
Aisha turned her face away at the last second, a small, almost shy smile curving her lips.
Instead of letting him claim her mouth, she rose, turned her back to him, and braced her hands on the desk.
Looking over her shoulder, her eyes soft despite the heat, she reached between her thighs, took his still-hard cock, and guided the slick head through her wet folds until it rested right at her entrance.
She pushed back just enough to let the tip sink in — slow, deliberate, almost reverent — waiting for him.
Rohit gripped her hips gently at first, then thrust upward in one smooth motion, burying himself to the hilt.
Aisha's breath left her in a sharp, broken moan that trembled with something more than just pleasure.
"Ahh—fuck…"
She adjusted, planting her hands on the armrests of the chair for leverage, and began to ride him in reverse.
At first her movements were slow and careful.
