Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 82094 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82094 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
“Don’t think this means I forgive you,” she whispers as she shimmies back and pulls off my pants. I rip off my shirt and toss it aside as she strokes my hard cock over my boxer briefs on her knees in front of me. “I’m still pissed.”
“Good. Take it out on me.” She nuzzles my hand as I touch her face then grip her hair. I take out my cock, my thick and throbbing cock, and she opens her mouth and licks the tip, sucking off the precum before sliding my shaft between her lips. I moan as she sucks me, moving faster and faster, until I drag her back up and pin her face-down on the couch and peel her panties off like I’m unwrapping a present.
She’s pink and glistening as my fingers tease her from behind. She’s a gift and more than I deserve but I can be worthy of her. I can be a better man. I spread her wide and lick her, lapping at her pussy, sucking and loving her taste. She wiggles her hips and moans, her face in the pillows, and I pin her down as I slide my fingers inside.
I whisper, “Don’t think that just because I think you’re decent, I’ll stop trying to make you a dirty little girl.”
“You better not.” She gasps as I slide my fingers out and pull her up against me. I kiss her over her shoulder and cup her breasts.
“You’re still my filthy girl,” I say in her ear. My cock is so hard I think it might break and all I want to do is fill her and make her lose herself in bliss. That’s my repentance, my worship. If I spent the rest of my life licking her soaking cunt and making her come then that would be a life well spent. “You’re still all mine, little filthy girl.”
“I’m all yours,” she says and spreads her legs as I push her down and she takes me nice and deep.
I groan as I fill her. She’s so wet, so warm, it’s like fucking heaven. In and out, sliding deeper and deeper. I grip her hips and slap her ass and pull her hair and kiss her over her shoulder and whisper filthy things in her ear as we grind and fuck and moan together. “I want to fill you, filthy girl, I want to see you on all fours shivering and moaning with my cum dripping from your pretty pussy. I want you willing to take me whenever I want you, and I promise I’ll want you all the time. I want you sore, and tired, and still sucking my cock and riding me until you can’t walk the next day. I want to break you, rebuild you, and fuck you into submission all over again.”
“Carmine,” she moans as I pull back, turn her around, and plunge back inside of her. I kiss her neck and lick her breasts as I fuck her and she grinds her hips against me, bucking fast, her arms wrapped around my neck. “I want this, I want this, I need this,” she says.
I go faster, grinding and thrusting and glowing with every amazing stroke. “I need this too, God, I fucking need it.”
“I’m going to come, fuck, I’m so close, you asshole, keep fucking me.”
“I love your dirty little mouth, you filthy fucking girl.”
Her back arches and she cries out as the orgasm rips through her. I groan my pleasure and there’s nothing more beautiful than Brice’s naked body shivering, flushed and coming, and I can’t help myself as I release deep between her legs. We finish together in a writhing mass of sweat and flesh and cum, and I kiss her deep and linger there, tasting her, unwilling to let go.
I wrap my arms tight around her body and she snuggles up against my chest. She grins that dreamy-sleepy-hazy smile of a girl that’s been thoroughly pleased and is completely spent, and I grin back.
“This doesn’t mean we’re back together,” she says, eyes sparkling mischievously.
“I wouldn’t dream of it. I have a lot more work to do.”
“Good.” She kisses my collarbone. “You still have to earn that.”
“I look forward to trying.”
Chapter 27
Brice
Carmine drives us back to the manor after we make sure Cassidy’s okay, but we didn’t even need to bother—she was already awake and enjoying a nice, leisurely room service breakfast on her little balcony.
“I messaged my friend Lanzo before we left,” he says, staring grimly straight head as we wind up the manor’s long driveway. “He’s the hacker I told you about before and he has proof that your father’s been in touch with the Russians.”
“What are we going to do with that?”
“I don’t know,” he admits and glances at me. “I think that’s up to you.”
“I want to talk to him first.” I stare straight ahead as the manor comes into view. It’s enormous and splendid and a testament to my family’s strength, and I hate it so much. I wish I never had to see this place again, and yet here we are, making one more pathetic trip back to see my family. “I want to know why he’s doing it again. Why do something he knows is going to get him in trouble?”