Page 63 of Illicit Temptation

“Ack!” Shea yelps. “What was that?”

“Keeping you in line. You’re mine, princess. Mine to fuck. And if you ever touch another man, I’ll tie you to my bed and fuck you for days.” I give a few more slaps, loving how they echo off the bathroom tiles and rhythmically beat in time with our grunts.

Shea whimpers, her walls squeezing around me.

“Coming already? Jesus, you’re in for a hell of a ride. I’m just getting started.”

After I ride out her climax, I pull out and stroke the wetness on my cock with shaking hands, holding back my building release. I shove back inside her, and Shea moans in sync with every thrust.

“Got one more for me, slutty princess?” I say, my voice dark with lust.

“You’re one greedy bastard.” She lifts her chest off the counter and presses her fingers into the marble, pushing back on my cock. “You need to come.”

“It’s a contest now.” I ground my legs, my freaking toes gripping the tile beneath my feet.

Not because I plan to jack-hammer my dick like a teenager trying to get off in a closet during childish kissing games, but to torture her like a grown man with slow and measured strokes until she’s fucking screaming my name. To stop. To come. To fuck her harder. I don’t give a shit. Anything that drips from those lips is magical to my ears.

With a small tilt of her hips, I manage to sink even deeper and the adrenaline rush from claiming her in sucha filthy way is enough to fucking kill me.

To keep up my torture campaign, I pull out and tease her clit with the crown of my weeping cock, until I need the long length hugged by her soaked folds again.

As the pleasure consumes me, a possessiveness grows to an irrational level. “Christ, the way you feel around my cock.”

Our eyes lock in the mirror, those green, almond-shaped, trusting eyes are glassy with arousal. I plan to break her, ruin her for any other man.

Staring at her through the mirror, I growl, “Who owns you?”

She grins, defying me. “No one owns me.”

I chuckle, “I’ve got you pinned down, my cock drenched from your wet cunt, and your eyes are practically rolling in the back of your head, princess.”

“Shut up,” she mutters and lowers her head, whimpering.

That mouthy back talk just does it for me. Volcanic energy surges through my veins and my cock pulses with a warning shot, widening and lengthening it to an impossible size.

I moan and she echoes me, feeling what she does to me. She owns me, as much as I own her.

An irritating buzzing snatches me from the depths of my orgasmic destruction.

Shea’s phone. On the counter.

She’s lost. Doesn’t hear it. Whimpering with yet another orgasm. I transformed into a machine, a perfectly revved engine with no plans to stop.

But that fucking phone buzzes again. I’m ready to throw it against the wall until I see the name.

Archer Crest.

I snarl and don’t even think twice. I hit the answer button.

“What?” I groan, holding the phone to my ear.

“Huh?” Shea looks up.

“Where’s Shea?” Archer angrily barks.

“Getting fucked,” I say, still slamming into her.

“What? Who did you let into that house to fuck her?”

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