The Interview Read Online Donna Alam

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 154890 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
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“This arse,” he growls as he lifts me to him. I cry out as the angle changes, as his big hands tighten on my cheeks. “The things I could do to this arse.”

I whimper as he licks my neck. Bites. “Oh!” It’s such a tiny sound to be so full of encouragement.

“I’m going to send you off on each of your little dates with my cum dripping between your legs.”

I cry out, not just from the possessive picture he paints but because I’m suddenly so full—impossibly so—as he drops to the chair behind him. My hands fall to his shoulders as I adjust to the sensation, pulsing around him. My brain short-circuits as his hands find the curve of my hips, pressing me deeper, impaling me. My body seems to move of its own volition, undulating over him.

“Yeah, like that.” I rise in response to his coaxing hands, riding him. “You were made for this.”

You were made for him. I screw my eyes shut at the invasive thought.

“Sweetheart.” Whit’s hand cups my cheek. “Open your eyes, look at how you take me.” The awe in his voice prompts my gaze to follow his to where my body accepts him. Holds him.

Oh, that’s too much.

“No, it’s perfect.” I don’t pause to wonder if he read my mind as I rise over him to reveal his glistening cock inch by slow inch before he rocks my body into his again.

“Yes, that’s it.” His thumb swipes my cheek so tenderly. “You’re so beautiful, Amelia. Your cunt feels like velvet.” That word—the base, coarseness of it causes a cascade of sensation through me, the effect written in the pleasured pain response on his face. “Oh Jesus, yes!” His hands coast down my body, his fingers sudden manacles against my wrists. He pulls them to the small of my back, adjusting his hold to one hand. With the other, he slides the tangled hair from my face, cradling my cheek, all dark, tender eyed.

“Move for me, darling.” His words drip through me like honey. “That’s it,” he encourages, moving with me. “Ride me.”

“You’re so big this way,” I choke out a garbled compliment, my insides throbbing at the thick slide of him. “I can’t—” I can’t think. Not as he grips my breast, lavishing my nipple with his tongue, leaving it hard and shining rudely in the daylight.

“Yes, you can. It’s okay to take what you want.”

I begin to rock, tentatively at first, then harder, buoyed on by the way he watches me, watches my face, watches my breasts as they move, observes how my body accepts him.

“You look so beautiful, riding me.” My tempo increases with his compliments, my thighs beginning to sting as I work myself over him. “Fuck yes, fuck me harder. Like that. Fuck me until I tell you to stop.”

“Oh God, stop—stop talking before my head explodes.”

“Don’t stop until Daddy tells you to,” he adds with an unrepentant grin. “Fuck!” He draws the expletive out on a groan as my body bows, my walls react around him. “No denying how much you love the sound of that.”

“Stop talking and kiss me.”

With the slightest resistance, he releases my wrists, allowing me to slide my hands around his neck as I devour him. His lips are faintly sticky from the mango, his breath hot and sweet as I work myself over him again and again.

“Oh God!” The brush of his pelvis is like the cherry on this sexual sundae.

I’ve never felt this way. My skin feels alive to his touch. So alive, so sexual.

His hands slide up my back, curling around my shoulders, his grunt countering my cry as he thrusts up into me. “Come on, Amelia. Fuck Daddy like you want to.

Pleasure radiates through every inch of me, our mouths meeting, messily tongued and panting as we rock and surge like one entity, our moans filling the room.

“I’m so fucking close.” Tense-jawed, he draws his brows together as though desperate to delay the inevitable, and if that doesn’t give me a sense of power, I’m not riding Whit’s cock like my life depends on it. And I am.

“I want it,” I whisper. Knowing he’s close somehow heightens my pleasure, makes me rock harder, makes those pulses stronger. “Give it to me.” I begin to ride him, it’s the only way to describe my body’s motion as I impale myself on him over and over again. From one breath to another, I suck in a sharp gasp, my whole being suddenly electrified. My skin is on fire as Whit chokes out a curse, undulating into his climax. Lost to the pull, lost to his expression, so beautiful and true, my fall follows his.

23

MIMI

Parting is such sweet sorrow?

I never thought I’d say it, but I can’t wait to put a little distance between myself and Whit. It’s not that I want to leave him, I just can’t stop being awkward, swinging between I’m going to climb you like a tree and you deserve better than me.


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