Page 93 of Eat Slay Love

The force of it made the framed artwork rattle.

“Tell me you love it.”

She loudly moaned. “I love it!”

“Tell me you fucking need it.”

“I need it!”

The air ran thick with the scent of our sweat and lust, our bodies moving in a rhythm that neither of us could control anymore.

“Damn it!” I couldn’t believe how amazing her pussy was.

It was in that moment when I realized I would probably end up being an American—getting citizenship in this godforsaken country just to have her pussy.

It made me so lustful and angry, I sneered, “I’ll fuck you on every wall of every city I take you to. Paris, Manhattan, LA, London, fucking Moscow—you’re mine in all of them.”

Her fingers curled into fists against the wall. “Oh! Oh!”

“Yes. I like that.”

"Oh God!”

“Are you close to cumming?”

“Yes.”

“Then, beg for it.”

“Please!”

“Beg me to fuck you harder.”

“H-harder!!”

The plea was desperate, rippling from her throat like a fallen angel's prayer.

I growled, my need to satisfy her overpowering anything else.

I pounded my cock into her.

"Oh God, Fabien!"

"Say it again."

"Fabien!"

"That's it,chérie. Cum for me.”

And she fell apart.

And then, I lost it too.

We came together.

Hot.

Wet.

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