Page 72 of Swept Away
I rock my hips and grip the sheet in desperation as Carter is already in the shower.
“You liked his cock?”
I mumble a yes.
“And you like my cock too?”
I nod.
“Good. Would you like to be our woman?”
I say yes to that, too, although it’s somewhat difficult to imagine how that would work for us.
“We could have many nights like this,” he murmurs, nuzzling my neck. “Now you come from me,” he adds and runs his hand from my tits to my slit.
He grabs my chest hard and squeezes my nipples before running his fingers over my clit, teasing it until it hurts.
Soft pulsations swirl around him, while he enjoys my reaction to his body.
He grazes my shoulder and leaves marks on my skin, and then rams into me. It doesn’t matter.
All I feel is warmth and pleasure.
The more he does it, the more stirred up I am and eager to chase the peak.
His touch is harsh, and I want it harsher.
His thrusts are hard, and I want them harder.
Aware of what I need, he rocks his hips violently, giving me what I need. A pull of hair, a hand wrapped around my neck, fingers over my mouth as I cry out his name.
He likes it just as much, and we can’t stop going even further. I fight him, slamming my body against his and pretending to pull away from him. And he cuts my retreat and holds me strongly, fucking me like it’s the end.
“You’re fucking crazy,” I murmur, my breath shallow, ragged, a smile in my voice.
“So are you,” he says in an amused voice.
He locks me against him, and we do it again.
I'm trying to pull away, and he's forcing me to stay. My center throbbing like crazy.
He locks his arm around my neck, and his thrusts become a blur when my eyes roll in my head and my breaths come out more broken than before.
A faint scent of smoke comes from the window, making me crack an eye open and watch while a brutal orgasm zaps through me.
Propped against the windowsill, arms crossed over his chest, a towel wrapped around his hips, a cigarette to his lip, Carter watches us in silence.
It’s hard to say as faint light glows behind him, but the gleaming orange tip makes me think a knowing smile stretches around his cigarette.
17
GEMMA
The following week.
Wednesday
“Mew, mew…”
