Page 5 of Sinful Affair

Pushing the door to the ladies’ restroom open, I see her standing at the mirror, slightly bent over the sink as she reapplies her red lipstick.

Slowly walking in, I scope the room but we’re alone.

One step, two steps, three steps and I am behind her, hand snaking around her waist as I push her ass into my evident bulge. My lips press into her neck and a shaky breath passes her lips.

“You’re married,” she whispers.

“I know,” I groan, my fingers playing with the hem of her little skirt, lifting it up her thighs and she gasps.

“We shouldn’t…”

“We shouldn’t…” I repeat and I step back just as she turns around, fingers curled around the countertop, eyes wild as they devour me.

Silence crackles between us and the tension continues to grow.

“Do you still think she isn’t deserving?” I ask, hand rubbing across my mouth, covering my lips that I am so desperate to put onto hers.

“I know she isn’t.”

“Then fuck it,” I growl, hands cupping her face as I tilt her lips up towards me and our lips graze, tongues dancing and I can’t stop. Even if I wanted to.

CHAPTER THREE

BELLA

“Do you still think she isn’t deserving?” he asks, his hand rubbing across his mouth and all I want to do is have his lips on mine.

“I know she isn’t,” I just about manage, my breath shaky and every fibre of me is burning with want and need.

“Then fuck it,” he growls, hands cupping my face and he slants me up to face him as our lips brush and our tongues dance and I know I am done for.

He pushes me onto the countertop, my legs opening as he stands between them, hands still clasped around my face, our kiss hot and heavy and messy.

My hands move to the nape of his neck, tugging on his hair and I am needy for him. He groans as his fingers skim down the side of my body and dance across my thighs before they deep between them.

“These tights are no good,” he pants, skimming his fingers a little higher as he rubs my pussy through the material.

“Take them off,” I whisper, too much alcohol swimming in my veins to even know what is morally right.

None of this is morally right.

But he rips them at the crutch, before his fingers are rubbing over my pantie covered clit.

“Oh shit,” I moan, pulling his lips to mine as he teases me.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he hums breaking the kiss as he looks between us.

“Fuck me, Henry; I need you,” I whisper as his fingers slip into the side of my panties and glide into my cunt. “Oh,” my head tips back.

“Shit you feel so good,” he groans as his lips dust up the column of my neck, nipping at my hot and sensitive skin. The pad of his thumb brushes over my clit as I shudder into him, his fingers fucking me slow.

“Then fuck me,” I pant, my eyes steadying on him.

Fumbling with his shirt buttons, I undo them one by one before pushing it off his shoulders, my mouth edging forward as I place messy kisses over his chest, licking his tanned skin and I am addicted to him.

I shove his shirt into my bag, hiding the evidence of our affair from the restroom.

Next is his belt, unbuckling it and undoing his trouser buttons, but before I can push them down, he stops me and marvels at me, as if he can’t believe this is happening as his fingers stroke my g-spot.