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“You are the devil.” I wrapped my arms around his neck, and he pressed his cock against my wet lips.

“You like that?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Good, cause I’m gonna fuck you so hard the entire house is going to hear you scream.”

“You’d better not,” I said.

“Stop me.” He turned his attention to my pants and took his time unbuttoning them, then lowering the zipper. The rush of air that poured in sent a chill up my body. He lifted me up so he could pull my pants down. He tugged on one leg, then the other while he stroked his cock through his jeans. I watched it eagerly, trying to make out the contour, the shape of the head and the outline of the foreskin.

He wrapped his arms around my back, pulled me off the counter into a standing position, and yanked my panties down. “You’re not going to tear them?” I asked.

“I can if you want me to.” He ducked down and held them up. “What’s that?” He pointed at a stain near the crotch and reached down to swipe his index finger in between my lips.

I shuddered, and my head rolled back.

“Are you wet?” He threw my panties behind him and began worshipping me with his lips. He had a way of pulling the skin up and driving his teeth in just long enough to give me a sharp jolt. He took his time, focusing on my lower neck, then chest and down towards my breasts.

He reached up, unhooked my bra, and let it fall limp. It was just getting in the way of his mouth and his roaming fingers. They left a cold burn behind when they circled my areola, and his tongue moving over my nipples compounded the effect.

The second he drove his finger through, my breath caught in my throat, and I never recovered. My body begged to take him in, to feel that touch that filled me up to completion. Without it, I felt empty. He reminded me of that by drawing the moment out as long as he could, teasing every part of my body until he knew I couldn’t take it any longer.

His finger twisted, coursing through, reaching deeper and deeper, but it wasn’t enough, nowhere near. I needed something thick and substantial, and a firm hand to drive it through. He knew that, and that something built up inside me, but he didn’t care.

It was all about my reaction, getting into my head, and making sure that I wanted it. He had to know for certain. He pushed his finger in deep and bit his bottom lip. “It’s so tight,” he said, groaning.

He pulled his pants down and kicked them aside. There was something telling about the motion, as if pressure had been building up inside of him for years, and he was finally getting a chance to relieve it. His cock was a sure sign of his pent-up sexual frustration. The head was bright red, standing at attention. I could tell that he’d been holding off on this moment for quite some time.

I wrapped my hands around his neck and crashed our lips together. When he pulled back, he flipped me around and bent me over. The movement took me by surprise, completely disarming me and making me feel vulnerable. He rested his hand on my shoulder and reached around with the other hand to stroke his fingers over my clit. He squeezed it between his fingers and reached up to cup my breasts.

His cock pressed against my lips, then slid over the wet surface up toward my clit. When he made contact, my lips parted, and a warm burst trickled out. It caught me off guard. I couldn’t stop it, but when it came, I lost all control and fell into the moment. One hand teased my nipples while the other teased my clit. The head of his cock pushed past the surface.

I rested in the moment between ecstasy and frantic anticipation. I pushed back, hoping to press his cock between my lips. The head hit my clit, and my eyes rolled back. It slid up, then back again, and over the tip. He got harder as blood was flowing into his cock.

He rested his hands on my shoulders and pulled me back into it. Then, he poured in, pulled back, and slammed in deep. There was no hesitation, no gentle touch, just his cock pounding through me and his finger moving over my clit.

His balls slapped against me. His skin melded to mine when he drove through, and the smell of sweat and sex permeated the bathroom. He spanked me hard, causing me to moan. Then he pushed in deep, deeper than before.

My skin tingled, my insides burned, my breath raced, and he kept pushing deeper, slamming past every barrier my weak muscles put up in a futile effort to prolong the moment. He wasn’t waiting, and I wasn’t sure I could.

He came in fast and kept pushing, back and forth, faster and faster. I couldn’t take it. It was too big, too sweet, and the sensation of his cock slipping through me was too powerful. It overtook all of my other senses.

I couldn’t fight it any longer. He grunted, letting out deep, animalistic groans that grew closer and closer together with every movement of his hips. My cries matched his own in rhythm and magnitude. When he got louder, so did I, until I was certain that everyone could hear us. I didn’t care. Nothing else mattered but the wild beast tearing through me.

He bent down and whispered in my ear. “Scream.”

“No,” I said.

“Scream.” He pounded in deep and pulled back and forth over my spot.

“I can’t.”

“You have to.” He pinched my clit.

I moaned. “Don’t you dare,” I said, my voice strained.

“Do it.” He pinched harder.


Tags: Claire Adams Billionaire Romance