Page 71 of Extradition (Mobsters + Billionaires 1)
“I dunno. Why does it embarrass you so much?”
He shuts his mouth as he shifts his weight to the side of his face, glaring at me. I stifle a groan when he pulls the globes of his ass apart with elegantly tapered fingers. Biting my knuckle, I admire his perfect hole on display just for me.
Slipping my phone out of my pocket, I snap a quick picture.
“What did you do? Did you take a picture of me like this?”
Ignoring his question, I grab his hips, kicking his feet out wide. I take another beat to enjoy him—fuck, he’s glorious—before thrusting into him. The side of his face makes a little squeaking noise on the slick wood surface, and he grunts but pushes back against me.
“You’re perfect, you know that?”
His pleased smile makes me want to fuck with him even more.
“And now, I can pull up a picture of my billionaire all bent over and waiting for me any time I want. Maybe with my next guy, I’ll put it up on the TV so we can both enjoy your hole while we fuck each other.”
His face flushes an even deeper shade of red, and he grits out, “Fuck. You.”
I slam into him again, causing the table to screech along the floor. He grunts as I bottom out, his fingers losing some of their grip.
“Spread ‘em wide, Rand. I need access to my hole.”
He glares when I take another picture, and I thrust into him again. Thrust, pulse. Thrust, pulse.
Rising on his tiptoes, he pushes against me in rhythm, rubbing his ass against me.
“Ooh, that’s my needy bitch. You need every inch of me you can get, don’t you?”
He whimpers and spreads himself wider for me.
“Tut, tut, Rand. Give me your words.”
“Y-yes. I need every inch. Please. Harder.”
“Then get up on your hands and brace yourself,” I growl. He loses his balance because I’m still hammering into him, but he finally manages to push up onto both hands, rocking back with each deep thrust. Leaning my weight onto him, I wrap one hand around his throat and the other around his desperate cock.
“Please. Please,” he begs in a high, suffocated pitch, pushing back, fucking himself on my cock.
I wish I had hours to do with him as I like, but a promise is a promise, and building security will be here in exactly seven minutes.
I apply light but firm pressure to the arteries in his neck as I squeeze and pull at his cock, thrusting into him. He pushes back against me, then forward into my hand, fast and hard. His breathing hitches and I loosen my grip on his neck for a few strokes to give him a nice headrush before increasing the pressure once more.
When his hips start to go off rhythm, I release his neck, pulling us upright and shoving us forward until his thighs press against the edge of the table.
“I gonna come,” he chokes out.
I clap my hand over his mouth, still thrusting. “Give me a few more seconds, baby. I know you can do it.”
He shakes his head, but the straining of his muscles tells me he’s trying so hard to hold back for me. Jesus, he’s going to be the death of me.
“Come, Rand.”
His strangled cry nearly sends me into the stratosphere, and every muscle in his body arches against me. He clenches hard, and I stroke him through the orgasm, savoring the sound of his cum splattering on the fancy conference table.
The muffled sound of his ecstasy, the heat of his skin against my clothes, the nearly painful grip of his ass pull the orgasm from my body. I pound into him until I spill my entire load, wishing I could see my cum leaking from his used hole.
Time is ticking, but I’m not finished with him yet. “Look at this mess you left on the table. People work here, for God’s sake. Lick it up.”
He seems willing but looks back when I don’t pull away. Still inside him, I tighten my grip on his hips and arch my brow. Breathing hard, he leans over, tightening around me.
