Page 128 of The Good Girl

Every time I say those words to him, he gets a look on his face like he can’t quite believe it’s true.

“If you don’t want a show, get the fuck out.”

Amity squeals as G tosses her over his shoulder.

“But s’mores,” I protest.

“You can have your dessert after I have mine.” He lowers me to the bed, leaning over me to kiss me senselessly.

By the time he pulls back, I’m a horny mess of need. He slips down my body before sliding his hands under the hem of my dress and pushing it up to my hips, exposing my basic white cotton panties.

He presses his nose against them and breathes me in as I squirm. “If you knew the power you have over me,” he murmurs mostly to himself.

It’s funny he thinks I have power over him because he only has to look at me, and I start leaking like a broken faucet. It’s a pain in the butt. I’m just hoping radical exposure therapywill mean I’ll build up some kind of resistance over the years. Because if I don’t, I’m going to be screwed in every sense of the word.

He tugs my underwear down my legs and slips them free, shoving them into the pocket inside his cut. I open my mouth to snap at him for stealing yet another pair of panties when he dips his head and sucks my clit into his mouth.

Now, I can’t say I’m proud of the noises coming out of my mouth. Anyone passing by might think I’m either possessed or in need of medical attention. Maybe the last part is true because my body responds to him as if he owns it, taking control and turning me into a sex doll.

“Such a pretty pussy and all mine.”

He dips his tongue inside me as my eyes roll into the back of my head. I grab his hair with both hands and hold him against me. He looks up at me from between my legs, the devil in his eyes as he fucks me to hell and back with his talented tongue. He doesn’t slow down, doesn’t relent even when I thrash my head and arch my hips, a classic sign that I’m about to fall over the edge. I come with a scream, his name on my lips, as he drinks me down like his favorite whiskey.

He presses a kiss to my pubic bone before his hands move to slowly unfasten the path of buttons that lead up to my chest. He takes his time. There is no rushing for this president of mine. Sometimes, it’s a blessing, giving me a moment to catch my breath. Other times, it’s a curse, edging me to the point of hysteria before he lets me come.

As each button opens, more of my skin is revealed, making Havoc’s eyes blaze like molten lava. Once the dress is completely open, he tugs the lace of my bra down, freeing my breasts. He flicks one of my erect nipples with his tongue, making me gasp.

“That feel good?”

I nod.

“Words, cupcake. Tell me what you want.”

“I want you inside me.”

“You want me to fuck you, baby?”

“Yesss,” I hiss as he bites down on my nipple.

“Say fuck.”

“Fuck.”

He hums in satisfaction. “Say, suck.”

“Suck.”

“Tell me you want to suck my cock.”

“I want to suck your cock.”

“My good girl with a dirty mouth.”

He moves his hand between us, fumbling with his jeans as he frees himself. I feel him there, hot and hard, at my entrance.

“Condom.”

He flips us, so I’m on top. I gasp as he positions himself once more, and I easily slip him inside me. By the time my ass is resting on his thighs, and I’m taken him all from root to tip, I’m stuffed so full I can barely breathe.

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