When her breathing evened out a little, Trevor began to move—slow, deep rolls of his hips at first, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in. Each thrust drew a fresh moan from her, the sound music to his ears. He gradually picked up the pace, one hand slipping around to rub her clit in firm circles while he fucked her over the desk.
The office filled with the rhythmic slap of skin on skin, her wet sounds, and their shared heavy breathing. Miss Bella pushed back to meet his thrusts, her earlier shyness melting away as pleasure took over.
"Trevor… harder," she gasped after a particularly deep stroke. "Please… I can take it."
He grinned against her shoulder and gave her exactly what she asked for—snapping his hips faster, driving into her with more force. The desk creaked under them, papers scattering, but neither cared. Trevor's hand kept working her clit, feeling her get wetter and tighter around him.
