Page 28 of By Invitation Only
And then I fell.
I fell so far that I screamed my release. I screamed so loud that the neighbors probably thought we were in a competition.
My breathing was starting to return to normal when Booker rose and began to take the cuffs off my ankles.That was it? That wasn’t so bad. He removed the cuffs on my wrists, and I started to sit up.
“No,” he snapped.
“No?” I asked.
“Roll on your stomach.”
Oh!
I did without hesitation. We weren’t done. I could hear the rustle of what I assumed was a condom packet, and after a few seconds, I felt each shoe being removed from my feet. They thumped onto the hardwood floor, and then he was over me again. He grabbed one wrist at a time and hooked them back into the cuffs. Nudging my legs apart with his knees, his hand slid between my hips and the bed, and he pulled me up slightly. It was enough for him to slide in, and I moaned as he entered. It wasn’t a slow and steady ease in. It was an I’m-tired-of-fucking-around thrust.
My hips pressed into the bed as he slammed into me. He grabbed the chignon at the back of my nape and pulled. My head tilted back, and he continued to pull until my hair fell loose and draped around my shoulders. Bobby pins dropped around me, but I didn’t care that he’d just messed up my hair. It felt like pure bliss as he tugged harder.
Hips pumping.
Hair pulling.
The sounds of arousal filling the air.
“I can’t wait to smack your arse,” he groaned, thrusting into me over and over.
I moaned in response. I wasn’t sure I wanted him to smack my ass, but if it was anything like what we were currently in the middle of, I might be open to it. Then it occurred to me…
Ididtrust him.
After all those years of thinking he was a cocky attorney who wanted to make my cases hell, I realized that I would never look at Booker Jameson the same way. After tonight everything would change. Even if he continued to request a God awful amount of discovery, I knew I would comply in a heartbeat.
I was done for.
Completely and utterly submitted to this man and all it took was for his lips to touch mine.
He groaned, I moaned, and the harder he thrust, the closer I came to falling over the edge again.
“You feel so good,” he groaned.
“Yes!” I moaned. “Yes, right there!”
Oh God, I sounded like the women I could hear from my bedroom, but I didn’t care. With each drive, Booker hit that spot that made tingles race up my spine. It was about time I was the one on the receiving end of a good fucking. I’d heard too many nights of women getting what I didn’t have—what I fantasized about.
Booker yanked harder on my head, and my arms tightened against the restraints. I had nowhere to go as he pumped into me over and over.
“That’s it, gorgeous. Milk my dick.”
That was my second undoing. I came around his cock, his name slipping from my lips as I screamed again, and the pleasure raced through me like an electric current. He groaned again, this time following me over the edge into oblivion.
Booker rested on top of me as our breathing came down from its high. I was positive I never wanted to move.
We’d been laying in the bed for a few minutes when I finally asked, “What time is it?” There were no clocks around the room, and I didn’t have my cell phone. It felt odd not knowing what time of night it was.
“Not sure,” he answered.
I looked over at him beside me, seeing his arms crossed behind his head. “We should probably go so we know what time the party ends.”
“Want to leave me so soon?” He smirked.
