Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
He fills me again and again. We’re in total rhythm. Our bodies sync, and I reach my arms above my head as he takes me.
“God, I’m going to fill you, baby,” he whispers, growling as he goes faster. I’m right with him, my core throbbing and on the edge of breaking into a million little pieces. “I’m going to make you my good little slut. I’m going to fill you to the brim, baby. Tell me you want it.”
“I want it,” I moan. “Fuck me, Adriano. I want it so badly. I want to be good.”
“You need it, you eager, messy girl. You’re so fucking greedy for my dick. You can’t help yourself. Lying there on my couch, taking my fucking cock, beautiful and depraved. You’re my sin now, Lucy. Every inch of you is ruin and sex and perfection.”
“God, keep going, don’t you fucking stop.”
It’s madness, mindless and stupid madness, and I don’t care. This is what I wanted. Total silence, except for his breath, his words, the sound of his cock pounding into me again and again. That’s all I could ever hope for in this world, and he’s giving me more than I ever thought possible. We build and build together until I can’t take it anymore. I’m stretched to my limit. I’m at my absolute apex.
“Go ahead, baby,” he whispers to me. “Get a little messy.”
My trigger pulls, and I shatter in a wave of bliss.
It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I come and come, and he fucks me through it, animalistic and primal. I feel him stiffen, and he’s coming too. For several magical, incredible, perfect seconds, I float suspended in the air in total, absolute, pristine silence.
Incredible.
Then I come crashing down. I gasp for air as he growls in my ear, grunting as he finishes between my legs. Some voice wonders birth control? But screw that voice. I grin stupidly as he slides himself out, staring at me with open astonishment.
“Fuck, Lucy,” he says and pulls me into his lap. “This is not how I expected my night to go.”
“Better than paperwork?” I say dully, curling up against him.
“Much, much better.”
We stay like that for a little while. Slowly, reality begins to assert itself. I try to stave it off for as long as I can, but I feel him dripping down my thigh, and I’m very aware that I just had unprotected sex with my future husband.
And I’m not sure he even knows it was me.
There’s a loud knock at the door. I yelp and sit up straight, my heart suddenly pounding. I’m half naked, and I have to adjust myself, covering my boobs and yanking down my dress.
Adriano pats my leg and kisses my cheek. “Stay,” he commands before getting up, putting on his pants, and heading out into the hall.
I hear a man’s voice. “Problem downstairs. Some pills—” The door shuts again, and I’m alone.
I sit there and stare around me.
Then the voice I constantly try to suppress comes back.
You’re alone in his office, you stupid fucking girl! Look around while you can!
I know I shouldn’t. That was just the best sex of my life by far. I was almost like a miracle, the way he fucks me into purring submission.
But I am still the daughter of my house, and my grandmother’s voice is so deeply ingrained in me that I can’t ignore it.
Not even when I really, really want to.
I get up and walk swiftly over to his desk. My heart’s racing like crazy. He could come back at any moment, and I won’t know how to explain this.
I look around. He wasn’t kidding about the paperwork. From what I can tell, it’s just legitimate business stuff: receipts and invoices for new glasses. I’m about to rip open his drawers when I look at his computer screen.
And stop dead.
Holy shit.
They’re security camera feeds. Six boxes show different angles of the action downstairs. My god, there’s a lot of action. The images keep changing, and I realize there must be dozens of cameras capturing every single lurid detail. Some are zoomed in on specific people, and facial recognition software displays their names and known addresses in the bottom right corner. I nearly yelp when I realize one of the women fucking at least four different men is actually the head of another wealthy Main Line family. She’s friends with my grandmother and at least sixty years old. My god, she’s in good shape.
But what really shakes me is the little indicator in the left corner.
Everything is being recorded.
All the sex, all the depravity, all their faces and their identities. The masks don’t seem to be doing all that much, either. The software works despite them.
Adriano’s getting it all.
Hours and hours of material on the most prominent people in the city. All their sins, all their kinks.