Page 47 of Fly Boy
“You’re killing me,” he murmurs, his forehead leaning against mine.
“I thought you said you were going to fuck me hard and fast?”
“You really are a fucking brat, aren’t you?”
A raw scream rips from me as he slams inside, his thrusts punishing as he gives me exactly that. My leg slips, loosely winding around his, but he grabs my thigh, pushing it back, his fingers biting into my skin as he surges forward. His hand moves to my stomach, just above my pubic bone and presses down. I gasp, the sensation intense as he continues to thrust, my pussy tightening as he shifts his hold enough to slide his thumb to my clit.
“Wyatt,” I pant, my back bowing off the bed when he bottoms out. “Fuck.”
He stares down at me, his blue eyes bright and unblinking as he drags his gaze to where we’re connected. Fucking me in quick bursts of his hips, his thumb matches his tempo, the sound of our bodies coming together, along with my growing moans, filling the room.
I barely contain a sob as he pulls out completely, gripping my hips and flipping me onto my front, tugging me up onto my knees.
“On all fours,” he says, his voice rough as he parts my legs, sliding his cock upward. I tense when it prods my asshole, his sardonic laugh sending chills up my spine. “Has anyone had you here before?”
He rubs his cock on my hole again, the damn thing twitching against it.
“No,” I moan, burying my flaming face into his sheets.
“Damn. If only we had more time.”
I’m about to speak when he surges back inside, cutting off my words with a scream. The angle’s different from when I was on my back, his grip on my hips bruising as he uses me to fuckagainst him. His cock pushes deeper, hitting spots that make me see stars, the addedtap, tap, tapof his balls when his hips meet my ass.
“I’m so close,” I whimper, sweat drenching my back, the finish line in sight.
Except Wyatt doesn’t want me to cross it as he’s manhandling me again. I’m on top, sinking down, my body exhausted as I sag forward, my hands clutching his chest. Tears sting my eyes as I’m denied my orgasm. “Wyatt…”
“You’ll come when I say you can.” He’s doing everything, pumping upward, grinding me down hard, making my body sing the tune he wants. “So fucking sexy. I could watch your cunt stretch around my cock all night.”
My eyes close, a strangled cry escaping my throat as I give myself over to the pleasure of Wyatt, while the headboard bangs against the wall with each thrust. When I open my eyes again, he’s looking at me, his gaze shadowed with desire.
He sits up and bands his arms around my back, taking my mouth in a blistering kiss. Sucking his lower lip between my teeth, I bite down, and he groans, making my toes curl when he hits that spot inside me. And then it’s game over.
“Wyatt,” I shout as blinding pleasure rockets throughout my body. I swear I black out. I can’t breathe. I no longer think I’m on this planet until Wyatt grunts out something unintelligible, his face pressing into my neck as he shudders, filling the condom with his release and my name on his lips.
My body is slick with sweat, his is too, as he lies back and I collapse on top of him. We breathe in short, shallow bursts as we come down from the most unbelievable high I’ve ever experienced.
Slowly, the ability to breathe and think returns, my heart speeding up as the realization of what we’ve just done hits me like a ton of bricks.
I just fucked my dad’s employee.
And I want to do it again.
Chapter Seventeen
I’m waiting for theregret to come. I’ve been waiting all night, yet there isn’t any. I still wait as I watch her sleep, lying on her front, completely naked, save for the comforter draped across her back, stopping at her hips. Pippa’s eyelashes rest against the tops of her cheeks, her mouth parted slightly, her breaths steady.
The rising sun filters through my curtains, casting her in a soft glow, and my fingers itch to trail over her skin, to touch her again before I wake up and realize this is a dream. Because as soon as she leaves my house, that’s all it will be.
My hand lifts on its own, freezing when she stirs as piano keys twinkling from somewhere in my room start to play. I look around, confused as to what the noise is, when Pippa snaps upright, joining in on the search.
Noticing her phone on my nightstand, plugged in at the wall, she snatches it just as something sounding like a trumpet blasts from the speakers. I stare at her, disoriented, as recognition smacks into me.
“Is that ‘The Final Bell’ fromRocky?”
Wincing, she nods as she turns off the song. “Sorry, I forgot my alarm was set.” Tucking the phone under her pillow, she stretches for the top of the duvet, tugging it up and hiding her body from me as she settles back down.
I lean onto my elbow, looking down at her, amusement making my lips twitch. “Why do you have the song from arguably the greatest movie of all time set as your alarm?”
