Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
When he finally lets me breathe, my lips are tingling and my heart thudding so loud I’m sure he can hear it.
“Someone’s feeling territorial,” I gasp as he guides me backward toward a sleek leather sofa.
The heat in his eyes as we move makes me feel like prey, but in the best possible way.
“Can you blame me?” My skirt is fully up around my hips now and my black lace panties bare to the conditioned air in the apartment. “After watching you seduce another woman with that little pout of yours, seconds before you tell me that you’re doing your best to get excited about eating pussy?”
My jaw drops as I exhale a laugh, my own pussy already aching for him. “I wasn’t seducing anyone! Take that back.”
“I will not.” He turns me suddenly, pressing me face-down over the arm of the sofa, making my breath rush out with an “oof” as I catch myself on the cool leather. A beat later my skirt is shoved up to my ribs. “Perhaps I need to remind you who you belong to. For now.”
The ‘for now’ sends a complicated mix of emotions through my chest, but they’re all overwhelmed by the desire pulsing between my legs as he rubs me through the soaked crotch of my panties.
“And who’s this for?” he asks, in a knowing way that makes it obvious he knows exactly who it’s for.
“You don’t have to invent excuses to fuck me,” I remind him, pushing back against his fingers. “If you can’t wait to be inside me, just say so.”
“Brat.” He rewards me with a sharp smack to my ass that makes me gasp and my pussy throb. “Always have to have the last word.”
“You like it,” I say as he jerks my panties to one side and glides a single finger through my slick, swollen folds. I add as my lashes flutter, “You like it a lot.”
“I do.” His voice is low, gravelly.
Just the sound of it is enough to make my nipples tight as he drags my panties down.
They catch on my thighs, and he roughly knees my legs wider, summoning a hungry sound from low in my chest. It echoes in the quiet air between us, igniting a heat that spreads like wildfire. Soon his hands are everywhere, jerking my tank top down to bare my breasts, somehow managing to tease my nipples even as he drags his zipper down, freeing his cock.
I feel it bob free, hot and heavy against my inner thigh and shudder with the force of how much I want him.
“I like a lot of things about you,” he murmurs, teeth dragging over the skin on my shoulder. “That’s the problem.”
My heart stutters in my chest, a dangerous, hopeful beating that threatens to unravel all my plans to hold this man at an emotional distance. But before I can fully process his admission, let alone how I feel about it, he glides two fingers inside me from behind, sending electricity rocketing across my skin.
I gasp, my head falling back as I call his name. Instantly his mouth is on my neck, whispering filthy things into my ear as he works me with his hand. This isn’t teasing or foreplay, this is a demand that I submit, that I give him the orgasm he’s calling forth like a necromancer bringing someone back from the dead.
I feel like I’m back from the dead with him, my long dry spell and all the disappointing lovers of the past few years forgotten as he reminds me why sex is the best thing ever.
Especially sex with him…
“Please…” The word escapes in a breathy moan, my hips rocking urgently against his hand, seeking more friction, more pressure, more of him. My skin feels too tight, my body coiled like a spring, ready to snap at any moment. But I don’t want to come on his hand. “I need your cock.”
“My cock?” His voice is rough, and it sends a fresh wave of heat rushing from my pussy to coat his fingers. He leans over me, his chest pressing against my back, the fabric of his suit a little scratchy, foreign and erotic against my bare skin. “Because you love cock, in general? And mine in particular?”
“Yes,” I manage, my head spinning. I claw my hands into the crevice between the cushions, fighting the orgasm threatening to overpower me. “I love your cock, and I want to come on it. Please.”
“I love it when you beg, brat,” he murmurs, his free hand tangling in my hair. He pulls my head back, forcing me to arch against him, my body bowing under his control. “I love it when you’re so desperate that all your pride goes up in smoke.”
“Please,” I beg again, whimpering now.
His grip is firm, unyielding, as he holds me in my bowed position beneath him, sending a thrill of submission racing through me. I’m completely at his mercy, and I fucking love it. I love being his brat and his good girl, the woman putting him through his paces and the slut who arches against his cock, shamelessly begging for him to take her like he means it.