Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 134654 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134654 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Spreading her legs, Cleo guided me with the hold she had on my cock. I groaned as I settled firmly in the V of her thighs and removed my fingers from her pussy. The wetness spread over her naked hip as I clutched her.
Her nipples kissed my chest; sensation rushed through my system.
I couldn’t stand it any longer.
Nudging against her pussy, the tip of me entered her searing heat.
We froze.
My erection throbbed; her core quivered. We paused in the delicious anticipation of joining.
Her nails raked down my back. “Do it. Please … take me.”
“As you wish.”
I slammed inside her.
She cried out, arching in my rough possession, a feral growl echoing in her chest. Her head threw back in erotic abandon. “Again,” she cried. Her face flushed and tight with desire.
Surging upward, I obeyed. I sank my teeth into her shoulder and thrust inside the woman I fucking loved with all my heart.
Cleo hissed, taking my every rock. I couldn’t contain the ferocious swell of emotion—the thankfulness, the fear, the happiness, the primal urge to make her mine forever.
I wanted to punish her as well as pleasure.
I wanted her to cry and also laugh.
I wanted to fucking marry her.
We lost sense of time as we thrust and grinded.
Her breath was a velvet lash against my overheated flesh. Her teeth across my pectoral were tiny sinful blades and her pussy was warm and inviting … home.
She clutched at my hair, swept away with lust and far from gentle. Her legs wrapped around me, gluing herself to me forever. She had me under a fucking siege, seducing me with her smell, body, and heart.
Grabbing the pillow behind her head, I drove deeper. I grunted with every stroke, teaching her a lesson in ownership.
“You’re mine, Cleo.”
Her spine bowed. “Yours. All yours.”
Something overflowed inside me with ravenous greed. My skin shone with perspiration as I claimed her elegant body.
“Mine,” I said harshly, pushing up and pulling out—driving into her.
I stole her mouth in a lust-drunken kiss, attacking her tongue, stealing her breath.
Our flesh slid against each other. Her body strained against mine, meeting my every thrust. No matter how hard I took her, I couldn’t slake my thirst.
“God, Arthur … don’t stop.”
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I was utterly consumed by her. The moans and begs spilling from her lips caressed my skin. Her body sucked me deep, taking me to the hilt and gathering a catastrophic orgasm.
God, she was a sexual deviant. So responsive. So pure.
Her legs stiffened as her mouth parted.
I drove harder, knowing she was on the cusp.
“Take it.” I thrust again. “Take me.” I fucked harder. “Give me your pleasure.”
She screamed, gripping my shoulders like an anchor as she snipped from gravity, detonating around my cock. Her neck strained, her mouth hung wide and waves upon waves of her release hurtled me toward my own.
Deep inside her, I penetrated her heart not just her body and when I came, I gave her everything I had left.
“Fuck!” I orgasmed in thick ribbons of bliss, shooting deep inside her heat. The blistering pleasure-pain made me desperate for air.
My hands fisted the pillows as I rode out the final waves of the most intense orgasm I’d ever had.
Our heartbeats whirred to the same psychotic beat, relearning one another and reaffirming the vows we made as children that we would always be together.
There was no more amnesia to fight.
No more sadness to ignore.
We were together and we were one.
Nothing could be better than that.
“Arthur?”
My attention changed from pulling on my cut and slipping into my boots. We’d been missing from Wallstreet’s welcome back party for over an hour. It was time to be sociable.
Spinning to face Cleo, I scowled at the worried look on her face.
She said, “I know you trust Wallstreet implicitly, but what if—”
Unlocking the door, I held out my hand for her to take. “What if?”
It amused me that so many people thought Wallstreet had an ulterior motive. A hidden agenda that would hurt me and everything we’d worked so hard to build. He’d been nothing but transparent … working toward the same goal as me.
Why couldn’t Cleo see that?
She wrapped her fingers around mine, and we headed from the sex-laced room and down the corridor toward the raucous of intoxicated people having fun.
“Well … I’ve always maintained that I think he’s up to something. That he’s always had another agenda.”
I smiled. “That’s because you’re smart. And because he does.”
Cleo frowned. “What is he going to do?”
My mind skipped back to Florida State—to that very first lesson where he explained everything in black and white. He’d been brutally honest. Told me what he expected from me. What he would do for me. What would happen if everything went to plan. He’d also bowed to my own conditions without too much fuss.
He’d accepted mine like I’d accepted his. And in return he’d given me something no one else had the power to do.