Page 57 of Icy Cold Death

Was.

Hot.

Setting her head free, she went wild. As Claire worked him hard, he was close to exploding.

“More!”

He never wanted this to end.

She did something particularly wicked with her tongue, and his whole being reacted.

“Claire! Baby!” he hissed, his body bowing from the wicked oral torment.

Only, she didn’t let up.

In fact, she worked him harder.

His wife was sadistic, and he loved every second of it.

“Make me cum,” he muttered. “I want to cum,” he begged. “I’ll die if I don’t,” he admitted.

Oh, she knew he’d be okay.

Instead of lightening up, she worked him harder until his body was shaking with need.

When he could barely breath, Claire roughly squeezed his balls, sending a wave of pleasure through him.

That.

Was.

It.

It caught him so off guard that there was no way he wasn’t cumming.

Beckett was done.

He lost control.

“Oh, God, Baby! I’m cumming!”

And he certainly did.

Beckett forced her mouth down his erection, choking her with his dick. When he exploded, his body spasmed, and she swallowed wave after wave of heat.

God.

She was so wet.

When he whispered her name, she slowly slipped him free of her mouth.

He was on her so fast.

“Claire,” he hissed, his body craving even more of her. This time, he wanted her to feel what he was feeling.

When he pulled her toward him, and then rolled, she ended up on her back.

Beckett was desperate to have her.

---