Page 119 of For the Plot
I hook her legs over my shoulders and pull her hips to the edge, diving into her like a man who’s been dying of thirst and finally found water. She cries out, her back arching, hands clawing at the marble as I lick, suck, and tease every inch of her pussy.
“God, Reece—fuck. Yes?—”
I reach up, pinching one nipple through the fabric of her dress while my tongue flicks her clit over and over. She’s close. I can feel it. Her thighs clench around my head, her hips grinding against my mouth.
“You gonna come, sweetheart?” I murmur, voice soaked with filth.
“Yes. Fuck, yes?—”
“Then give it to me.”
She comes with a scream, her body trembling, her moans raw and beautiful. I stand, wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, and stare down at her wrecked, glorious form. Then I lift her again, this time carrying her to the bedroom.
I strip as she watches, wide-eyed, lips parted. When I crawl over her, I pin her wrists above her head with one hand and slide the other down her thigh, over her hip, between her legs.
“Still mine?” I ask.
She nods frantically. “Yes.”
“Say it.”
“I’m yours.”
I slam into her in one deep, punishing thrust and her cry breaks open in the air between us.
“Fuck, Reece?—”
“You take me so good,” I growl, pounding into her as her wrists strain against my hold. “This pussy was made for me.”
“Yes, yes, yes?—”
“You’re gonna come for me again,” I whisper against her mouth, “because I fucking said so.”
I angle my hips and hit that spot deep inside her that makes her scream. She breaks. Writhing. Shaking. Coming around me like a wave crashing through her. She collapses on my chest, trembling, her cheek pressed to my skin, both of us panting in silence.
But I’m not done. Not even close. My hands trail down her back, slow, reverent, until they find her hips. I roll her off me gently and sit up, brushing her hair back from her face as I watch her try to catch her breath.
“Did I break you already?”
She huffs a laugh. “Almost.”
“Almost isn’t enough.”
Her brows lift. I lean in, my mouth brushing her jaw as I speak. “I want you ruined, Skye. So sore you feel me for days. So thoroughly satisfied and spent you can’t even speak my name without your voice cracking.”
She moans, biting her lip. I shift her under me and slide my hand between her thighs. Still wet. Still ready.
“You know what I fantasize about?”
She shakes her head slowly.
“I think about pulling you into my office in the middle of the day, bending you over my desk, and making you come with my fingers while I whisper everything I’m going to do to you later.”
Her thighs tremble.
“I want to make you sit through meetings with my cum dripping down your legs.”
She gasps, and I feel her clench around nothing.
