Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 134961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 675(@200wpm)___ 540(@250wpm)___ 450(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 675(@200wpm)___ 540(@250wpm)___ 450(@300wpm)
"Freddie, " she whimpers, her head falling forward, her body shaking with pleasure. “You feel… Fuck, you fill me up so good.”
I snap my hips forward, filling her deeper, harder, swallowing her soft little cries with another firm slap to her arse.
"You take me so fucking well," I groan.
My hands move to her hips, and I tighten my grip on her as I maneuver her body; practically bouncing her on top of my cock. Her arse shakes with every thrust, and I watch - almost lost in a trance - as I increase my pace until it’s near enough relentless.
Her body molds itself against mine as I fuck her, my hips snapping brutally against the perky flesh of her round behind. Her fingers claw at the door, her thighs trembling, her breath coming in sharp gasps as pleasure overwhelms her.
She’s close. I can practically feel it.
"You better come for me again," I tell her, tightening my grip on her hips, my movements unrelenting. "You wanted to tease me - now be a good girl and fucking come."
I emphasise each word with a harsh, rough thrust of my hips, and with the final slap of skin against skin, she shatters.
A strangled moan rips from her throat as her body clenches and tightens, her thighs trembling violently as she comes, hard. Her orgasm milks me with devastating force, and I can only fuck her for a short while longer before I feel myself coming to the edge.
"Fuck," I growl, slamming into her one last time before letting myself go.
I bury my cock as deep as I can as I spill my release inside her. My own orgasm tears through me, leaving me wrecked, breathless and fucking destroyed.
The only sound in the room is our ragged breathing, the pounding of my heart, the way she softly whimpers my name; and I press a lingering kiss against the back of her shoulder, dragging my hands over her waist, grounding myself.
Despite myself, I can’t help but smirk, pressing another teasing kiss against the shell of her ear.
"Lesson learned, mon ange?" I tease.
I breathe her in, my forehead resting against the back of her shoulder, my hands still wrapped around her waist, grounding both of us.
She’s shaking, her breath uneven, her fingers still trembling against the door; but still, she lets out a breathless laugh at my question.
Fuck.
I let out a slow, measured exhale, trying to pull myself together. Because if I don’t, I’ll take her again - right here, right now, against this goddamn door, until she can’t stand, until she forgets her own name.
But for now?
For now, I need to take care of her.
I press one last kiss to the nape of her neck before I force myself to step back.
She whimpers softly at the loss of contact, but I shush her gently, fixing her dress before turning away.
The room is bare, disused and abandoned - but there, in the corner, a dusty shelf catches my eye.
I stride over, finding an old box of tissues buried amongst stacks of forgotten paperwork.
Grimacing, I rip off the first few layers, tossing them aside until I find a stack that’s clean and untouched. Then, I move back to her.
She hasn’t turned yet - still catching her breath, still leaning heavy against the door. I sink to my knees in front of her, smoothing a warm palm over her bare thigh, pressing a kiss to the sensitive skin.
Then, without a word, I clean her up, wiping between her legs, taking my time. I work over her carefully; my hands gentle but firm, making sure she’s comfortable before I finally, reluctantly, pull away.
She breathes deeply as she reaches down and pulls her panties back up, straightens her dress, and finally - finally - turns to face me.
I watch her closely.
She looks wrecked - in the best fucking way.
Her lips are red and swollen, her cheeks flushed, her pupils still blown wide with arousal.
And yet, beneath all of that, there’s something else.
Satisfaction. Contentment.
Good.
Still, I tilt my head, raising a brow as I step closer, brushing a knuckle against her jawline, tipping her chin up.
"You okay?"
She nods, but I don’t let her get away with that.
I smirk, dragging my thumb over her bottom lip, watching the way she shivers under my touch.
"Use your words, mon ange."
Her lips curve into a soft, slight smile.
"I’m okay," she says. She hesitates, pausing just slightly, and then, she corrects herself. "In fact, no - I’m more than okay."
I grin; a slow, wicked curl of my lips.
"Good," I tell her, leaning in and brushing my mouth over hers.
It’s a soft kiss. Surprisingly so.
A stark contrast to the way I just ruined her against the door.
I take my time, savouring her taste, dragging my fingers through her hair and smoothing the strands as best I can before I reluctantly pull away.