Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 33433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
"You are not spanking me, Harlan."
"Watch me," I growl, flipping her onto her stomach over a podium sitting on a raised dais in the corner.
"Harlan!" she screeches, trying to buck out of my hold, but there's no chance of that happening. I pin her easily, ripping her shorts down her legs. Even though she's fighting me, she can't hide the way she pushes her ass back against me, like she's begging me to slap it already.
My hand lands against one round cheek.
"You asshole!" she shouts.
"That was for being so fucking perfect," I growl, planting my lips against her ear. And then I smack her ass again, harder this time. "That one was for making my dick this hard in a goddamn leotard."
She moans, pushing back against me again.
"And this one…" I rub her cheek before I slap it again. "Is for the hell I'm going to catch from Tye, Briggs, and my team for the rest of my goddamn life."
"You love it," she gasps.
She's right. I do. And I love the way she's face down over this podium even more.
I yank her leotard to the side, praying to God there are no cameras in here. If there are, I'm going to be bribing the security crew to destroy the tape before the morning is over.
"Harlan," she moans when I run my knuckle across her drenched folds.
"You want me to eat you?" I ask, parting her slit to play with her swollen clit. Christ, she's so ready for me, she's already soaking my hand.
"No. I want you inside me."
How the fuck I'm supposed to manage that in a tutu and a leotard, I have no idea, but I'm nothing if not inventive. I kick my way free of the tutu, then step back, practically ripping my way free of the leotard.
It's around my knees when I push my way into her, watching the way she stretches around my cock.
"Jesus. I could watch this forever, Sophie," I groan. "You're so pretty when you're stretched around me."
"Harlan, please," she whimpers.
I fuck her hard, the podium rattling under her with every thrust. My hand fists in her hair, yanking her head up, so her back bows and her tits are crushed against the wood, her face angled toward mine. I want to watch her face when I make her lose it.
Her eyes are wild, her lips parted, her breath coming in helpless little moans. I feel every one of them in my bones.
"Look at you," I tell her, my voice rough. "You love getting fucked on stage like this."
She doesn't deny it. She can't.
She's too busy trying to take every inch I give her, her hips rocking back to meet mine, greedy for every thrust.
I catch a glimpse of us in a mirror she has set up near the door—her bent over, the pink of her leotard bright against my skin, my cock driving into her over and over, harder each time.
I don't know how I'm going to survive this. I don't even care if I do. I just want to keep fucking her like this until the world stops spinning.
"You want to come for me, baby?" I ask, my teeth at her ear.
She shudders so hard it nearly throws us both off the podium. "Please," she chokes out. "Please, Harlan."
I reach around her, finding her clit slippery and swollen. I rub it in tight, hard circles, loving the way she goes still—a dancer's stillness, all muscle and control—so she can feel every second of it.
"Don't you dare come without my say-so," I tell her, tightening my grip in her hair. "You hold it. You fucking hold it, ballerina."
She makes a guttural, desperate sound. Her thighs quake against the podium, and I can feel her pussy fluttering, desperate for permission. I slow down, grinding deep, making her feel every vein, every inch.
She sobs, biting her own arm to keep from screaming.
"Fuck, you feel that?" I groan, thrusting slow and hard as she arches and writhes. "Your cunt is milking my cock, Sophie. You're so ready for it. You want to come, baby?"
She tries to nod, but I hold her still.
"Not yet. You hold it for me. Just like that. Don't you fucking dare finish until I say."
She's shaking, her hands clutching the edge of the podium so tight her knuckles are white. I keep the pressure on her clit constant, never letting her lose the edge.
She's a mess, moaning my name, her hips stuttering as she tries to obey.
"Good girl," I whisper, biting her ear. "Now."
She detonates, her whole body bucking as she screams my name, coming so hard she nearly throws us both to the floor.
The force of it rips me in half. I slam into her, losing every ounce of control, and let myself go, pumping her full.
We collapse onto the podium, her face pressed to the cool wood, my chest covering her back, both of us panting like we just ran a marathon.