Page 89 of Damaged Mogul
My lips find hers, devouring her mouth in a passionate kiss.
She matches my ardor, tongue stroke for tongue stroke.
She slides against the countertop’s smooth surface as I move her up and down my hard cock.
My pace grows frantic as the pressure builds inside me.
She breaks the kiss and screams out my name as she comes apart in my arms, riding my cock.
“You’ve ruined me, Lily.” I’m not sure if it’s an accusation or statement.
I’m entangled in her enchanting web.
I pump into her once.
Twice.
Three times.
With one final thrust of my hips, I release my cum into her.
My climatic roar is so loud, I bet they hear me all the way down in the lobby.
Chapter 21
Lily
Ibite my cheek to stop from smiling.
Within twelve days of turning twenty-one—and within thirty-two hours of landing in LA—I’m officially a woman.
Sexy Gage Hollingsworth punched my V card.
He was the perfect man for missionBursting Lily’s Cherry.
Nads is going to die.
Gage made me feel so desired, and I wanted him so much, I didn’t care if it was going to hurt. The burning lust in his eyes was my undoing.
I’ve had it bad for him since the first time I laid eyes on him.
I wasn’t prepared for his massive cock. Long, thick, pulsing, and lined with veins. I guess I should’ve known from his impressive height, large hands, and long feet.
I’m not Lily the innocent virgin who’d never seen a cock in her life until an hour ago, but I’ve never gone all the way. The only other cock I’ve seen was half of Gage’s size, and the man it belonged to wasn’t a strapping hunk who stands at least six-four. Gage’s cock is so eye-popping huge, I’m surprised I didn’t run out of the bathroom when he dropped his boxer briefs.
Holy enormous appendage.
The first few thrusts were so painful, it was a struggle to breathe. It was like being impaled by a tree trunk, but in no time, pain gave into pleasure.
Ohmygod, sex is a beautiful thing.
After a shower in the luxurious spa-like bathroom, Gage and I are both draped in the hotel’s silky-soft white bathrobes, sitting at the round table in the living area, enjoying a lip-smacking meal.
“On a scale from one to ten, that was a solid seven,” I say, meeting wintergreen eyes.
His gaze drops to his sandwich before lifting to meet mine. His perplexed expression is priceless.
The midnight menu at the Pompadour is irreproachable. All the meals I’ve enjoyed since I arrived, have been. Gage recommended the lip-smacking pulled pork sandwich. It’s out of this world phenomenal. He’s devouring his second one. I’m still working on my first.
