You let Yvette take charge. (of your dick)

That was all she needed.

Her fingers work your belt with ruthless efficiency, nails scraping your hips as she yanks your pants down. No teasing, her mouth engulfs you in a heartbeat, lips sealing tight, tongue already working the underside. Fuck. She takes you deep immediately, throat fluttering around the head before pulling back to wetly sigh around your rapidly inflating cock.

You exhale through your teeth, your fingers soon find themselves tangled in her hair. Not guiding, just holding her in place. The security monitors reflects her bobbing head, the wet sounds obscenely loud in the quiet lobby.

"Griggs—" you manage.

She hums around you, the vibration making your thighs tense. "Eight minutes," she murmurs against your skin before swallowing you again, deeper this time. The risk of getting caught only makes her suck harder.

She takes a deep breath and dives down to take you in again, throat working greedily. You keep your grip light in her hair. Just enough to feel the rhythm of her mouth, not to push. Not yet. The wet heat of her lips, the scrape of her teeth when she pulls back to flick her tongue over the tip... it borders on pain, but she knows exactly how much pressure to use.

A soft moan escapes her as you throb against her tongue, and the sound shoots straight to your cock. You want to grab her head, fuck that pretty mouth until she chokes... but no. You let her set the pace, even as your hips twitch in restraint.

She glances up, dark eyelashes fluttering, lips swollen and slick. “Five minutes,” she murmurs, breath hot against your skin. Then she dives back down, hollowing her cheeks, until the head of your cock nudges the back of her throat. Her fingers tightens hard... and you stifle a groan. The monitors flicker nearby, still broadcasting empty hallways, for now.

Every second ticking closer to discovery only makes her bolder, sloppier. A thin string of spit drips from her chin as she pulls off just long enough to whisper, “Fuck, you taste good,” before taking you once more.

The slick, rhythmic 'pop' of her lips releasing your cock just to plunge back down again echoes in the quiet room. Every time she takes you deep, the tightness of her throat makes a filthy, wet noise. Like a kiss, but obscene, raw. Her eyelashes flutters as she adjusts, her nose pressing into your pelvis as she swallows around you, the muscles of her throat working in ****, greedy pulses.

A taut string of spit connects her bottom lip to your shaft as she pulls back slightly, panting. Her lips swollen, glossy with saliva, and when she exhales, the heat of her breath sends a shiver up your spine.

"Yvette—" you growl, fingers flexing in her hair.

She smirks, eyes flicking up to meet yours before she slides her tongue along the underside, slow and deliberate. Then, without warning, she swallows you all the way down again, her throat convulsing, her moan vibrating through you. The wet 'gulp' of her taking you deeper. She pulls herself off your cock with a wet sigh.

"Fuck my face, you know you want to."

Then she dives down until her lips are touching your balls once again. Fuck. it's too much.

Your grip tightens. Her hands claws at your thighs, urging you on. The security monitors remained blank, but neither of you care anymore. Not with her throat squeezing around you like a vise.

Your fingers grip her hair as the tension coils to the breaking point, then snaps. A raw groan tears from your throat as you smash her head against your crotch, until you're wedged firmly in her throat. You pulse again and again, thick ropes shooting deep, directly into her stomach. Yvette doesn’t flinch, doesn’t pull back. Her throat works desperately, swallowing every hot, throbbing spurt, her lips sealed tight around the base of your cock.

She hums desperately around you, the vibration making your hips jerk, and only sucks harder, swallowing every last drop. The wet, greedy gulps are obscene, her tongue pressing up against your shaft as if chasing the taste. Even when you soften slightly, she keeps you buried, her nose pressed to your skin, breath ragged through flared nostrils.

Only when you’re completely spent does she finally pull back with a slick *pop*, lips still wrapped around the tip to suck gently, teasing out the last shuddering aftershocks. A slow, satisfied swallow, then she looks up, lashes damp, mouth glistening.

“Fuck,” she breathes, tongue darting out to catch a stray drop. “Knew you’d taste even better down my throat.”