Sarah shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes from the war inside her heart.
"I… I can't… I shouldn't…"
But her pussy was soaking wet now, the heat of her arousal betraying every lie her lips tried to form.
Ross's mouth returned to her breasts, sucking and biting her nipples as his fingers slid lower, parting her folds, spreading her open for him.
Sarah gasped, her legs trembling as the desk beneath her creaked.
There was no escape. Not from Ross. Not from her own body.
Ross finally let Sarah's nipple slip free from his mouth, a wet trail left glistening as he leaned back.
His hands didn't stop their work though—his palms engulfed her breasts, kneading and squeezing as though he was molding them into his possession.
Sometimes he crushed the soft mounds together hard enough to make Sarah gasp, and then he would switch to feather-light touches, caressing and teasing, drawing shivers across her skin.
