Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 164910 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 825(@200wpm)___ 660(@250wpm)___ 550(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164910 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 825(@200wpm)___ 660(@250wpm)___ 550(@300wpm)
Adjusting to him, I breathe as he continues to suck on my lobe, my jaw, my neck…
“You ready?” he asks.
Fuck yes.
He slides all the way in, and I forget to breathe for a second as I take him. Slow but steady, he pulls out and thrusts back in, increasing his speed. In moments, he’s riding me. I clench the pillows, hanging on as he fills me over and over again, the discomfort turning into pleasure as I start to feel him hit just where I love.
In a minute, I’m thrusting back into him. “Oh, fuck,” I moan.
I learned quickly that I don’t ejaculate when I come this way, and Dallas has stamina. If he lasts long enough, I can come multiple times.
Leaning down, he kisses me, still rolling his hips. The sweat on his chest glides against the sweat on my back.
“God,” he whispers in my ear. “I want to come inside of you so badly.”
And I’m taken back to the one time I let him before.
“I fucking hate you for this.” He trembles behind me, pressing me to the outside wall of Mariette’s. “No one feels like you.”
We were so caught up that night, we didn’t have a rubber and didn’t want to wait.
I’m clean, so he must’ve been, too. At least back then.
I’m not letting him take off the condom now, though. He can go fuck himself.
He hisses, riding me hard, and I watch him in the mirror. One arm, steel-rod straight, holding him up as he grips my waist with the other hand, pumping his cock, and I’m mesmerized. His tight abs. The slopes and curves of his flexed arms. The sweat wetting his hair, which bobs over his eyes as he rides me. His open mouth draws in hard breaths.
My orgasm builds, taunting the edges of my body—my arms, my legs, the hair on the back of my neck—and I almost smile, it feels so good. Curling my fists into the pillows, I tense everything and hold my breath, squeezing my eyes shut as it explodes, washing over every inch of my skin.
“Ah.” But I can’t do anything more than that, my whole body soaking up the adrenaline and release.
I don’t realize I’m reaching back to his neck and holding him to my body until I let my forehead fall to the bed. His cock throbs inside me.
Turning my eyes to the mirror, I see him staring down at me, watching me.
Goddammit. I’d almost forgotten how good that felt. It’s not the same as spilling cum. It takes over everything.
Before the orgasm has left my body, he pulls out and turns me over. I flip, lying on my back, tugging the comforter, and pulling it over my groin.
But he yanks it out of my hand, uncovering me again as he comes down on me. Nestling between my legs, he kisses me, moving from my mouth to my forehead to my neck, chest, and stomach. Holding his head to my body, I let the chills spread over my skin.
Fuck. My eyes sting, and I can’t take in a full breath. I wish he’d stop. I can’t take it. “What are you doing?” I murmur.
He rises up, pushing my knees open. “I’m doing it again,” he whispers, sliding back inside of me. “And again—until you say my name.”
I’m not calling him Dallas in bed. We’re not making love.
“By all means…” He stretches me again, and I force deep breaths in. “I can keep coming like this. You can’t.
“But I do have all night, Mr. Ames.” He smiles down at me, making my stomach flip. “I might like this curfew, after all.”
Shit.
One arm out to his side and another next to my head, he pumps his cock in me, thrusting deep and fast. I plant my hands behind me, using the headboard for leverage, and watch him. His abs flex as he rolls his hips, his brow pinching together and his mouth falling open in pleasure.
He pushes my chin back, taking my eyes off of him as he breathes into my neck. “Oh, God,” he groans. “Callum.”
Circling my hand around the back of his neck, I hold him to me. “Good boy.”
He pumps deeper, and I blink long and hard, moaning. This is what he is. A fucking servant. Grabbing the headboard, he increases speed, gazing down at me.
My second orgasm builds. “Next time you’re in my fucking house, I’ll have you arrested.”
I’d like that to be true, and maybe it is.
He just breathes out a laugh. “After I give you my dick that you love, of course.”
Of course.
God, I fucking hate him.
* * *
—
Hot water cascades down my face, sweat and the stench from the Wolfe Room spilling down the drain. I can barely keep my eyes open, but I know I can’t sleep. Every muscle—even ones I forgot I had—aches and burns, but I don’t care. I enjoyed that more than anything in a long time. Sophia gets to retreat into her delusional world for a sliver of happiness; I don’t see why I can’t do the same.