Page 8 of Fast and Dirty

“What?” I demand as my pussy throws a tantrum in my panties. “What would you do?”

“Everything you wanted!” He finally explodes. “I’d take you in every savage, dirty way possible! I would ravage the fuck out of you like I might never get another chance! Fuck!” He steps away as if he’s afraid being too close to my space will bringalong the world exploding. Clearly, he’s feeling like he’s just made an epic fuckup as a professional and is probably terrified I’m going to give him a shitty Yelp review stating sexual harassment, but that couldn’t be the farthest thing from my mind right now as I dash over to him, closing the few feet of distance to not even a hair. Throwing my arms around his neck, I crash my lips down on his.

He makes a surprised grunt that vibrates against my lips, and it quickly turns to a sensual groan. His arms go around me as his lips attack mine in return. His mouth mauls and works at mine, devouring and dominating as much as he can and the thrill that barrels through my body tells me this is already worth whatever shame I might feel later.

He pulls away only enough to speak. “What the fuck is happening?”

I don’t think he really cares about the answer, as he crushes his mouth against mine again. He pulls me in tighter, lifting me off the floor and taking my breath away.

“Do it,” I murmur against his lips.

“What?”

“Do everything you just said.”

4

WEST

Agoddamn princess just threw herself into my arms and is seducing me. Who the fuck spiked my coffee with hallucinogenics? This seriously can’t be real.

But something in me snapped when she came out of the office, looking dejected for the first time during this whole ordeal.

Up until then, she’d been rolling with every punch, but the light mist in her eyes and the set of her shoulders revealed vulnerability beneath her armor. Pair that with my greasy handprint on her otherwise pristine white dress, and I was a goner. She looked every bit the fairytale princess my mom used to read to me about growing up - only, a disheveled version that makes me think of Cinderella long after the clock struck midnight. It’s hot as fuck, and my libido seems to have teamed up with some dormant, white-knight instinct, making me want to slay any dragon for her, even just in the form of telling her someone gives a fuck. I hated that she had no one here for her and that it was dulling that bright light she’d been projecting.

And now, her intoxicating perfume is heightened by her pheromones and enveloping me in a mystical haze of lust as her sweet lips tantalize mine. Our tongues slide together, and I canalready feel the first sign of precum beading at the tip of my cock.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to take advantage of you,” I say against her mouth, making one last noble attempt.

She leans her head back to look at me. “How in the hell would you be doing that? I’m not drunk.”

“No,” I pant. “But you’re in an emotional state, and - ,”

“And I haven’t had a man crave me like you just claimed to, ever, in my life,” she cuts me off, cupping my face in her delicate hands. “Tell me you really meant all you just said and it wasn’t some pity bullshit you were spewing or I will fucking lose my mind.” The lust threatens to leave her eyes and make way for panic.

I’m quick to put a stop to it, not letting myself think better of it. “Fuck yeah, I meant it,” I rasp, before going in and attacking her mouth with mine again.

“Then don’t add rejecting me to my shitty day because of some kind of moral code,” she whispers fiercely as her fingers slide from my face, down my neck, and to the buttons of my shirt where she pops the first one open. “I’m willing. And if it makes you feel better, pretend I’m taking advantage of you.”

“Oh fuck yeah, take advantage of me,” I moan, feeling helpless to resist. Reaching for my shirt, I help her finish the task by ripping it open, buttons flying and pinging off metal surfaces. She pushes it down my shoulders and breaks the kiss long enough to look me up and down.

“Oh my god, you have tattoos,” she muses on a heavy breath.

“That a good thing?” the question is muffled with my mouth ravaging her neck.

“Oh God, yes.” She moans, and I don’t care if it’s from the tats or what I’m doing to her. “Fuck, that makes me hot.”

I run my tongue up the side of her neck and revel in the helpless whimper it elicits before nipping at her delicate jaw. Her dress swishes and bunches between us and I reach down and grab a fistful of all the lacey, gauzy material. With both hands, Ifrantically gather it, reeling it up so that I can get my hand underneath to find out what’s in store for me.

My fingers quickly find damp lace between her toned thighs and I yank it to the side to find a bare pussy, slick with her sweet arousal.

“Oh god, oh fuck,” she keens, and immediately starts rolling her hips, seeking out a closer connection with my hand.

“That for me, princess?” I pull her into me tighter, my hand pumping slow but deftly against her sex. “Are you all hot and wet just for me?”

“Yes, ever since you picked me up.” The words escape her throat on a hoarse cry.

“Fuck yeah it is,” my voice rumbles from the base of my throat as I push two fingers inside her. This ismyfucking fairy tale. The one where the princess gives herself to the heroic knight who saved her on the side of the road, and not the pussy of a prince who wouldn’t give her any more than mediocre intercourse on a set of thousand-dollar sheets.

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