Page 57 of Dr. Fellow

A desperate sound somewhere between a moan and scream, comes from her lips as I pull her against me, seating myself fully inside her cunt. I pause, allowing her to adjust to my size before I start pounding into her. But before I can move again, her pussy clamps down on my cock, squeezing me with her inner walls.

“Did you just fucking come on my cock?”

Morgan squeals when I pinch her clit, looking for a response. “Yes,” she cries, her legs trembling beneath me. “Sorry. Fuck. You’re just so big.”

“You just can’t stop coming, can you? Your body knows that you’re mine so it instantly explodes, doesn’t it?”

She’s taking me so well, her tight pussy stretching around me as I hold still and allow her pulsing muscles to relax after the orgasm.

“Give me another one,” I growl, finally feeling her cunt relax. “Be a good little cockwhore and soak my balls in your cum.”

I pull out and ram back in, sinking deeper than ever before. I tug her arms behind her back, holding them still with one hand as I draw her to her knees. Her back is flush against my chest and I lean in, dragging my teeth against her shoulder. My fingers circle her clit the way that I’ve learned she likes it, consistently massaging the sensitive nerves right at their base. Each repetition makes her pussy grip me a little tighter.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna come again,” she pants, dropping her head to my shoulder as her entire body shakes.

I want to stay like this, to keep my dick buried deep inside of her. But I promised that I would fuck her like I wanted to that night, and if anything, I’m a man of my word.

“That’s it. Let go for me, little devil,” I grunt, sliding out of her slick heat almost completely before I plunge back inside.

Morgan cries out as she adjusts to the deeper angle, completely at my mercy while I use her for my own release. My cock hammers into her, driving rough, punishing pumps into her swollen pussy until I feel her spasm around me, screaming my name just like I told her to.

Unable to hold off any longer, I fall over the edge with her, groaning as my balls tighten and my orgasm rips through me. I hold her tight as every bit of my pleasure is wrung from my body, suddenly aware of one thing without a doubt—I need more.

Chapter 23

Morgan

Is it bad to be thankful divorce exists? Don’t get me wrong, I know that it sucks and ruins lives, but it’s just the way that I’ve always felt. Both my mom and my dad are way happier now than they would be if they were still married. They’re also far more emotionally stable, so that’s definitely something to be thankful for.

I’m also thankful to Walker’s ex-wife for letting him go because this is by far the best sex of my life. My statement that he had no idea how to use his gigantic cock was absolutely ludicrous and unfounded. Especially because it now seems like every time we take a trip to pound town, he’s trying to prove to me that he’s more than capable of wielding that thing.

Which he is.

Terrifyingly so.

And not only that, but the man seems to have the stamina of an energizer bunny. In the past two weeks, he’s given me more orgasms than all of my past hookups combined. By the time he even thinks about coming, I’ve already had at least two of my own, sometimes more depending on how much time we have. We just can’t seem to get enough of each other, like our bodies have this insatiable itch that’s never quite scratched.

Unfortunately, I doubt that itch is going to be scratched this weekend because Claire has put all seven of us in the same hotel room. We just made it to reception at our bougie Las Vegas hotel and they handed us each a key for the same penthouse. I mean technically there are four separate bedrooms, but still, there’s no way I’m waltzing into Walker’s room with my nosy best friends in the same place. I’m horny, but not that horny.

When we make it to the top floor, Claire is practically vibrating with excitement. She hasn’t told anyone the plan, but based on the matching velour sweatsuits for the girls, and the flight which included all of us in first class, I have no doubt it’s going to be over the top.

“Get ready for the best weekend of our lives,” Claire beams, jumping up and down when the personal butler opens the white marble door to the penthouse.

As the chairman of the Me First Movement, I shoot past everyone and take in the new digs. The suite is five times the size of my rental and looks more like something out of a luxury travel magazine than the location of a rowdy bachelor-bachelorette party. There’s a full bar to one side, plush sofas in the middle, and what appears to be a game room equipped with a pool table to the other.

“Holy shit,” I breathe out, taking in the best part of the entire suite—a panoramic view of the Las Vegas strip.

“You think it’s okay?” Claire asks, following behind me. “They didn’t have the biggest penthouse available, so you and Caroline are sharing a room. But there are two beds, don’t worry.”

I glance back at Beau. He’s looking at me with the same incredulous expression, and I know without a doubt that he has the same thought—Claire is absolutely insane.

“Oh, well if the biggest penthouse isn’t available, I don’t want it,” Walker deadpans, pushing his sleeves up his corded forearms.

Damn him and his delicious tattoos, they’re more distracting than the shimmering crystal chandelier hanging above me from the forty-foot ceiling.

Beau tosses his meaty arm around Walker’s shoulder, pulling him toward the game room. “I’m gonna kick your ass in pool.”

“No!” Claire yells. “You’re going to stay right here and help me decorate until I say you can go play.”

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