Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 119852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
Feeling emboldened by Maddox’s words, I reach between my legs, spreading my lips so they can see even more. When they both groan in delight and reach for their dicks, I feel like a triumphant siren, luring not only one man to ruin, but two.
Riggs comes around the bed, pulling the chair from the corner closer to the bed before sitting down. He’s scooted down to the seat’s edge so that he’s slouching, with his legs spread out to relieve the tension he has to be feeling. He cups the bulge in his jeans and I lick my lips, wanting to see him, wanting to taste him the way he tasted me.
But behind me, I hear the crinkle of a wrapper and glance back. The thin cover of the condom does nothing to disguise what Maddox is about to fuck me with. He’s long, thick, and standing rock hard. He gives himself a stroke, hissing as he grips his base tightly. “You ready?” he asks, lining up at my entrance.
“Give me all you got,” I challenge. Is it stupid? Probably. But I’ve already fallen completely into recklessness, so what’s a little more?
I want to see what’s beyond reckless and I think Maddox can show me, a voice whispers.
I am not reckless. I am calculating and cold, cynical and jaded, and never do stupid shit just for myself. The things I do for myself are as equally well-thought-out and selected as everything else in my life—hairdresser, waxes, Pilates classes, salads, reading the business pages, listening to the gossip in the investment world. All good things that I do for myself, to better my daily life and my future.
But right now, my only thought is of pleasure, of staying in this not-so-mythical, blissed-out state of consciousness.
Maddox grips my hips in his hands, his fingertips digging into my skin as he slides into me, inch by glorious inch. When I think he must be balls-deep, somehow, there’s more, and still, I manage to take him. I’m already trembling as he’s fully seated in me, and he grinds his hips against my ass. “Fuck, you feel good, Princess.”
I like that pet name better than good girl, especially groaned out rough and guttural like that, and I smile at the compliment. I glance in the mirror again, finding Maddox with his head thrown back and his eyes closed like he’s focusing on the sensations of my walls surrounding him. I squeeze my internal muscles, massaging him, wanting him to lose control, wanting to torture him the way he’s already done me.
In response, he pulls back and then slams all the way back in, his hands holding me in place so I can’t rebound from the impact. I don’t know if it’s supposed to be a punishment or a reward, but it feels good.
He does it again and again and then starts pulling me onto him with each deep stroke, making me fuck him back. It quickly becomes rough and wild, and when his palm slaps down on my ass cheek, I’m not surprised. Hell, I think I was lifting my ass to ask for it. “Again,” I moan, and he obliges, raining smacks to one cheek, then the other. I don’t need to see my skin to know it’s red. I can feel the heat, feel the sting.
Riggs shifts in his chair, a low rumble in his chest. I’m ashamed to say I kinda forgot about him with the savage way Maddox is taking me, so I blink to clear my vision, forcing my eyes to focus on Riggs’s. “You like watching? That your thing?”
The small shake of his head is barely an answer, but the lift of his lips into a smirk feels dangerous. Like he’s warning me. “No, he gets to go first to get you ready for me. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Hurt me?
That should have every warning siren going off in my head. Maybe a few spinning red lights of alarm too. But something about the way he says it—soft, meaningful, vulnerable—makes me more curious than freaked out. And when he runs his hand up the somehow even thicker ridge in his jeans, my curiosity turns into perverse hunger. I want to see him, but before I can ask, Maddox wraps my hair in his fist, lifting my face to the mirror. “Watch yourself come for me again.”
I’m nowhere close to that. He feels amazing, but I don’t think I could come again if I wanted to. I don’t think I could even with one of the buzzing toys I bought from Samantha’s Bedroom Heaven business that promises an O in under a minute.
Like he can read my doubt on my face, Riggs leans forward to nuzzle at my exposed neck, laying hot, open-mouthed kisses at first, and then sucking sharply. Fuck, I should stop him. I cannot go into work tomorrow with a hickey like some dumbass teenager, but instead of ‘no’, what comes out is a whimper.