Never imagined the guy who delivers my inventory would have such a delicious cock

The café smelled like vanilla and freshly ground coffee beans, the usual morning calm before the rush. I was restocking cups when the backdoor buzzer rang—Luis, the inventory guy, here with our weekly delivery.

“Hey Fernanda,” he said, flashing that stupidly charming grin as he rolled in crates of milk and sugar. “You look… busy.”

I smirked, wiping sweat from my neck. “Always am when you show up.”

He laughed, but his eyes lingered—lower. “Need help with those?”

Before I could answer, his hands were on the boxes, muscles flexing under his tight shirt. Damn. Three months of him coming by, and I’d never really looked. But today? The way his jeans hugged his thighs, the way his biceps strained as he lifted—fuck.

I bit my lip. “You’re extra helpful today.”

He paused, catching my stare. “You’re extra distracted.”

A beat. Then his fingers brushed mine as he passed me a bag of beans. A spark. A slow smirk.

“You ever think about breaking rules, Fernanda?” His voice dropped, rough.

I should’ve laughed it off. But my pulse was already racing. “Depends. Which rules?”

He stepped closer. “The one where I don’t bend you over this counter and fuck you senseless.”

My breath hitched. “That’s definitely against policy.”

“Good.”

Then his mouth crashed into mine, hot and demanding. No sweet talk, no teasing—just pure, raw want. His tongue plunged deep, stealing my gasp as his hands gripped my hips, lifting me onto the counter. Bags of coffee tumbled to the floor.

“Fuck—Luis—” I moaned as his lips trailed down my neck, teeth scraping.

“You’ve been driving me crazy,” he growled, yanking my shorts down. “Every damn week, that smirk, those legs—Christ.” His fingers slid between my thighs, finding me soaked. “Knew you’d be like this.”

I arched into his touch. “N-not here—”

“Right here.” He unbuckled his jeans, his cock springing free—thick, veined, perfect. My mouth watered.

Then he was inside me in one brutal thrust, filling me so deep I saw stars. “Oh my God—!”

His grip on my hips was iron, slamming me onto him with every snap of his waist. The counter rattled, espresso cups clattering. I clawed at his shoulders, nails digging in as he fucked me harder, deeper, his breath hot against my ear.

“You like this? Getting ruined by the inventory guy?” He bit my earlobe. “Bet you never saw this coming.”

I couldn’t even answer—just moaned, my thighs shaking as he pounded into me. Every thrust hit that sweet spot, pleasure coiling tighter, tighter—

“Come for me,” he demanded.

And I shattered, crying out as my orgasm ripped through me. He followed with a groan, spilling deep inside me, his hips stuttering.

For a second, all I heard was our ragged breathing. Then he pulled out, tucking himself back in like nothing happened.

I was a mess—hair wild, lips swollen, shorts still around my ankles.

He smirked, tossing me a rag. “Same time next week?”

I laughed, breathless. “Definitely.”