ARIA

I’m still trembling from the second orgasm when he pulls out abruptly, leaving me empty and gasping against the cold glass. My palms squeak as I try to push upright, thighs shaking, pussy clenching around nothing.

Dante’s hands grip my hips and flip me like I weigh nothing. Suddenly, I’m sitting on the edge of the desk, trench coat and shirt shoved open, breasts spilling out, legs spread wide by his rough palms, exposing every inch of my pussy, and suddenly he spits (hot, ...