Page 88 of Forsaken Oath

Before I get to enjoy the way his cock presses against my clit, he’s rolling us. I’m on my back, stretched out along the chaise, and he’s on top of me in the next breath.

Beau settles between my thighs, his weight pressing me into the plush velvet of the chaise. He braces himself on one forearm next to my head, his other hand skimming up my thigh, pushing the fabric of my sundress out of the way. His touch feels like fire, igniting a blaze of need that consumes me from the inside out.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Eloise,” he murmurs, reverence lacing every word as his eyes roam over my face.

He drags a fingertip along the hem of my panties, pulls it to the side, and plays with my arousal. He circles my clit, and my hips jump, arching toward him. I’m so fucking turned on, I don’t think it’s going to take me long before I come.

He slides two fingers inside of me, and his small noise of approval makes my blood sing. “Look how wet you are for me. Your cunt is dripping down my hand, baby.”

My lids lower, heavy with lust as I roll my hips, fucking his fingers.

His free hand tightens around my thigh, grounding me, his voice soft against the roar of my pulse. “You’re doing so well, Peach. That’s it, keep going.”

The praise is like fuel, steadying me even as I feel like I might come undone.

“I’m going to come soon,” I warn, my eyes closing.

“Good,” he breathes against my pussy. “I wanna feel it, Peach. Give it to me.”

My eyes fly open when he wraps his lips around my clit and sucks hard. The orgasm crashes over me like a tidal wave, my back arching off the chaise as a high, keening cry tears from my throat. Beau works me through it, his fingers pumping steadily as his tongue flicks over my clit, drawing out the pleasure.

Before I’ve even finished coming down from the high of my orgasm, the head of his cock is nudging inside of me. I clench around him, fluttering and spasming from the aftershocks still rolling through me.

“Oh god,” I gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders as I try to catch my breath. The feeling of him stretching me, filling me so completely, is almost too much. It toes the line between pleasure and pain, the dull ache giving way to sizzling bliss with each slow thrust.

“You okay, Peach?” he murmurs, his voice strained as he stills above me, buried to the hilt.

“Oh, god,” I whimper. But it’s the metal of his piercing that has me gasping, the cool contrast against his searing flesh maddening in the best way.

“Breathe, baby.” He leans onto his forearms, hiking one leg up and wrapping it around his waist. “It’s alright, I’ve got you.”

I nod and draw in a shaky breath, not trusting my voice. I’ve never felt so full, so consumed. It’s almost too much, but somehow not enough.

Beau begins to move, slow and steady, allowing me to adjust to the exquisite stretch. Each thrust is measured, controlled, hitting me in all the right places. The metal of his piercing drags along my inner walls, adding a delicious edge of sensation that has me gasping and writhing beneath him.

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he groans, his breath hot against my neck. “So fucking perfect. And so fuckingmine.”

I cling to him, my nails scoring his back as pleasure builds and coils low in my belly. He rolls his hips, grinding against my clit with every deep thrust. The dual sensations send me spiraling higher, chasing the release that hovers just out of reach.

“Beau,” I moan, my voice high and breathy. “I’m so close.Please.”

He captures my lips in a searing kiss, swallowing my cries of pleasure as his pace increases. His hand slides between our sweat-slicked bodies, finding my clit and rubbing tight circles.

“Come for me, Peach,” he demands against my mouth. “Let me feel this pretty little pussy squeeze my cock.”

His words are my undoing. The coil inside me snaps, my orgasm crashing over me in relentless waves. I come with a broken cry, Beau’s name tumbling from my lips like a prayer. Ecstasy floods my veins as I come and come and come.

“Goddamn, Peach,” he groans, his face buried in the crook of my neck as he comes.

But I’m too busy weathering the longest orgasm of my life. I’m flying so high, I don’t think I’ll ever land.

38

BEAU

The boxof donuts sits on the passenger seat, a sugary little surprise I picked up while waiting for my girl to get home. She left the roadside motel about an hour ago. It was a small, cabin-style place forty-five minutes outside Arbor Heights, where the third Gauntlet race was held.

It was a test of acceleration—one of those zero-to-sixty benchmarks. Arbor Heights is all high hills and bluffs, making it the perfect place for a quarter-mile downhill drag race for the twenty drivers left in the Gauntlet.

---