Page 97 of The Cruelty of Thorns

“Not a chance. One day is too much.” He continued to kiss me while cupping my ass and kneading my cheeks.

I tried to keep my wits about me, but it was hard with his hands and his mouth pushing all the right buttons. “Is Thanksgiving going to be at your parents’ house this year?”

He slipped a hand inside my panties to stroke my pussy. “Uh mm. Uncle Gio’s and Aunt Isabella’s house. Fuck, you’re already wet.”

I moaned and ground against his growing erection as his fingers found my clit. “If you keep this up, we’ll never get on the road.”

“Are you complaining?”

“Not even a little.”

He chuckled deep in his throat. “I could take you right here on the floor. We’ve never done it in the studio.”

I glanced down at the cold tile and shook my head. “I’d suggest the drafting table, but I don’t want to mess up your drawings.”

“I have a better idea.”

He pushed me back until we slammed into the wall, his fingers never breaking stride. I trailed my hand down his chest to his waistband, reaching in to unzip his pants. He was already hard, a drop of pre-cum dampening the front of his underwear. I pushed both down over his hips and closed my hand around his cock, pulling a hiss from his lips.

“Is that what you want, baby?”

“Yes,” I gasped.

“Say it.”

“I want you.”

“You want me to what?”

I gave him a wicked smile. “I want you to fuck me with your big cock.”

He chuckled again. “Mmm. I love it when you talk dirty to me.”

He yanked my panties out of the way and palmed his cock, rubbing it across the lips of my pussy to get it wet before teasing me with the head. “Is this what you want?”

“Yes,” I grunted as he drove it home in one smooth thrust. I pushed back against him, forcing him deeper while his hands squeezed my ass. He began to pump, long, slow strokes at first, finding his rhythm.

“Harder,” I breathed.

“Oh, it’s like that, is it?”

He shoved hard into me until our bodies slammed together and he was seated deep inside, pausing for a moment to regain control. I pressed tighter, rubbing my breasts against his chest, loving how easily I could distract him.

“Minx,” he breathed against my ear, his hips grinding me into the wall. I sought his mouth, sucking in his tongue and biting his lip while my hands threaded through his hair, knowing how much it drove him crazy. His movements became frenzied, almost violent, and I met his every stroke, my pussy tightening around his cock, urging him deeper, faster, harder.

“Talk to me…” thrust “…baby…” thrust “…tell me…” thrust “…what you…” thrust “…want.” The pictures on the wall began to rattle, threatened to come loose from their nails. I broke away from his mouth and came up for air, throwing my head back to bang into the wall.

“Your cock feels so good.”

He growled and scooped his arms around my legs, lifting them up to wrap around his waist to change the angle of penetration. I held on tight, riding his cock as it drove across my clit, the cadence gaining speed, each thrust seeming to go deeper until I swear he was pounding my ribcage. I bore down, clenching my pussy around his cock, milking it with every stroke.

“Oh fuck, Myra” he groaned. “That did it.”

One more deep thrust and I felt myself let go, the spasm rocketing through me, causing my vision to blur and my head to spin. He came right behind me, his hot cum filling my pussy.

We stood like that for several minutes, waiting for our heartbeats to slow back to normal and our breathing level out. He kissed me again, his lips trailing fire across my mouth and down my neck. I pulled my legs free of his grasp and stood shakily.

“Damn, woman, you’re going to kill me one of these days.”

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