Page 21 of Trusting the Fall

“Oh, fuck.” She rests her head against mine.

“Already, Bombshell?” I tease. “Poor baby. Did you feel so desperate this week without my help?”

She nods, making my chest puff with pride and I quicken my pace, adding another finger and fucking into her with wild abandon.

I kiss along her jaw before meeting her lips again and sucking her bottom lip into my mouth.

“One more, and then I need to fuck you. Need to feel this pussy choking my cock.” She flutters around my fingers, clamping down on the digits.

“That’s it, Bombshell. Come for me.” I pull her down harder on my body and thrust my cock against her. The lace of her panties causes a frustrating friction, and I’m left even more desperate as I feel a hint of her piercing glide along my shaft.

I need the soft skin of her body against mine, her limbs wrapped around me, suffocating me.

“Look at me,” I say.

Her eyes fly open at my command, locking on mine. My fingers push deeper into her pussy while my cock stays pinned against her clit.

“You’re gonna give me all those beautiful orgasms tonight, Bombshell. Show me how desperate you’ve been all week. Knowing it was only me who could get you there. You’re gonna show me how good I am to you by letting me wear your cum on my face, fingers and cock, like a fucking brand. Isn’t that right?”

She nods, her breath sawing in and out, crazed moans igniting her way to oblivion.

“That’s right. Because who owns this pussy?” She whimpers and closes her eyes. “Eyes on me,” I grit, and she opens them once more, a hint of vulnerability showing with the desire. “Who owns this pussy?” I ask again.

“You,” she whispers.

“That’s right. And who owns me?” I ask, matching the weakening of her walls with my own.

“I do,” she says right before she throws her head back, pulsing around my fingers and coating me once more.

Yeah, she does.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]; [email protected]

Subject: Parlour Tricks Beauty - Walls and Ceilings

Hi Guys,

Walls and ceilings have now been completed and are ready for the painters.

I’ve asked the tilers to work on the bathrooms this week as well before the salon goes on seven day lockdown to allow the lime wash stain to cure.

Thanks,

Westley

9

Witheverypainfulinhale,I can see the sweat coating my chest as it glistens in the afternoon sun.

“I thought yoga was supposed to be relaxing, you crazy person.”

Holding an arm across her chest in a stretch, Lex sits cross-legged and laughs.

I spy her through one eye as she tips her head back and pulls the spring air surrounding us into her lungs, a smile of contentment washing over her.

“Don’t you feel better, though?” she says. “All that pent-up energy has been pushed out into the universe to make room for the good juju.”

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