Page 70 of Covetous

“Yes,” I whisper against his lips when his finger goes deeper, screwing in and out, driving me fucking wild. So wild that I lift myself up and sink down on his cock, eliciting a growl from his sexy lips.

“Fuck, Skylar. Shit.”

“Keep your finger in my ass,” I moan, riding his cock.

“God, I fucking love you.”

“I love you too,” I pant, my body turning inside out with all the sensations.

“You’re the sexiest fucking woman I’ve ever seen,” he says, rolling us over and putting me on all fours.

“Please,” I beg, and I don’t even know what I’m begging for—all of him, I guess. Everything. But what I don’t expect is his tongue dragging between my cheeks. “Oh my God,” I scream, burying my face into the pillow as he devours my ass like he’s done to my pussy for the last three days.

“Mine,” he growls, his breath hot on my skin.

“Yours,” I cry out. Sneaking a peek over my shoulder, I notice he’s jerking himself as he tongues my virgin hole. So, so fucking hot.

He doesn’t stop eating my ass until I’m coming, my body exploding. A hand slaps my over-sensitive pussy, the sting sending jolts of pleasure through me. And then he enters me, his dick sliding all the way in with one long thrust. “This pussy was made for me,” he growls, one hand in my hair, with his other holding my hip, his fingers sinking into the skin.

“Yes.” I arch my hips with every thrust. “Oh, God, don’t stop. Don’t you ever fucking stop.”

He only fucks me more savagely, hitting a spot deep inside me that has me wailing and sputtering incoherently.

“I can’t wait to bury my cock in your ass,” he grits out as he fucks into me.

Neither can I.

So this is what it feels like to be turned out. To crave a man’s cock to the point of obsession. He’s so good at this—too good at this—to where I never want to be without it. It’s not why I love him, but damn. Talk about the perk of being with an experienced lover like Victor, who knows exactly what he’s doing.

If someone had told me back in high school that we’d end up together like this, I would’ve laughed in their face while secretly hoping it would come true. After years of denying our feelings, we finally got what we both wanted. And the best part? This is only the beginning.

The sight of Ian’s car in my driveway sends a chill down my spine despite the lingering Texas heat. What the hell is he doing here? Part of me wants to turn tail and run back to the safety of Victor’s arms, but I can’t keep running from this forever.

Parking beside Ian’s car, I white-knuckle my phone, my stomach twisting into knots. If he even thinks about getting loud or putting his hands on me again, I won’t hesitate to dial 911.

Inside, silence reigns, broken only by the hum of the AC. Esme’s keys lie on the counter, but there’s no sign of her.

Unease prickles across my skin. “Es?” I call out, my voice sounding small in the stillness.

She appears at the top of the stairs, and my words die in my throat. It’s not the silky fire-red robe that throws me—it is late—it’s the look on her face. Her eyes are twin flames of barely contained rage, ready to incinerate me where I stand.

“What?” she snaps, arms crossed.

“Is Ian in my room? And did he say anything to you?” I try to keep my voice steady, but it shakes anyway.

Her gaze zeros in on my bruised cheek. “What happened to you?”

Self-consciously touching my face, free of makeup, I reply, “Ian’s what happened. I’m gonna get him outta here so you and I can talk.” I grab my ring from the coffee table drawer, my hands slick with sweat.

“What do we need to talk about?” Esme’s eyes narrow at the ring.

“We broke up, so he shouldn’t even be in my bedroom.” I swallow hard. “There’s a lot I need to tell you, but first?—”

She holds up a hand, palm out. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Well, well, well. Hello, Skylar.” Ian’s voice makes my blood run cold. He saunters down the stairs, zipping up his jeans with a smug grin on his face, despite the two black eyes and split lip.

No. Oh, God, no. Please tell me they didn’t…

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