“I do, baby,” she says and kisses me. “I do.”
I can’t stop myself from asking anyway.“Do you hate me?”
“No,” she breathes in disbelief. “No, never, Christian, how can you think that?”
“I’ve hated myself for a long time over my mistakes.”
“They’re mistakes,” Lana says. “We hate them because we know better now. Because we hate that we didn’t know whatwe know now. You’re meant to hate mistakes, baby, it just means you’ve grown.”
I hold onto her and kiss her back. I kiss her deeper, slower, until I turn us over. “I love you,” I breathe on her lips.
“I know,” she whispers and I push into her. “I love you too.”
“Say that again,” I breathe shakily, deep inside of the love of my life with her limbs wrapped around my body.
“I love you.”
Thrust.
“I love you, Christian.”
Thrust.
“I love you.”
“I love you, Lana,” I moan against her lips.
“Yeah?” She chuckles breathlessly.
I smile. “Yeah.”
“Then be quiet and just kiss me, Christian,” she whispers, and I can never say no to her.
I go back to work with Lana today, but this time I’m on shift in the café.
Before opening, she taught me how to use the espresso machines and the strategic way she makes my latte. Then at around eight thirty, it was Lana who took me to the back office for what she called a‘get pumped up for work’quickie.
I can’t say no to her—especially not when she flashes me those dimples, bats her long, dark lashes, and brushes her lips over my jaw and neck. And that’s how weend up in Lana’s back office with me sitting back on her chair and her between my legs, her back toward me as she moves, up and down.
She’s insatiable today, but so am I.
“Christian,” she moans, dropping her hips harder and faster. “Oh god.”
“Fuck, baby, just like that.”
Lana’s breathing is sporadic and heavy, a soft whimper coming out as I move my hand from her waist to between her legs, circling her clit with my fingers.
Her back arches and she falls back against my chest. “Yes,” she breathes. “Yes,oh my god.”
“Lana!” A fist pounds on her door.
“Shit,” I hiss and try to pull her off me, but she doesn’t relent. She sits up and leans over her desk, bouncing up and down on my cock. “Lana, baby, we?—”
“Shhh.” She looks at me over her shoulder and smirks. “Be quiet. We aren’t finished here yet.”
“Fuuuuck,” I moan and my head falls back against the chair, and she keeps moving. My hands holding her waist tighten, and she moans softly. “Lana.”
“Shhh.”
