Page 2 of What's Left of Us

I reach down and grab her chin, tilting her face up after undoing my pants to take myself out. “What did I tell you to do, Georgia?”

Her tongue drags slowly over her bottom lip before they part for me.

She always used to listen to me.

Submit to me.

Listen to every command willingly.

When the hell did she stop?

My hand goes to the back of her head, threading in her silky chocolate hair and cupping her skull before pushing her onto my dick.

Stifling a groan as she chokes on my growing length, I watch her bob over me. Her tongue glides along my shaft, her lips twisting just under the tip and causing me to jerk when she hits my nerve endings with skillful precision.

“That’s it,” I praise, forcing her to take me deeper until she gags. The sound makes me harder, growing in her mouth until another gag vibrates over me. She grazes her teeth along the sensitive skin, not quite biting but taunting me with the possibility. She’s become a master of this—trained for pleasure.Mypleasure.

Andgoddamn, does it bring back memories.

Pulling her away, I take a fistful of her hair around my hand and guide her up to stand. Twisting her around, my other palm grips the chain cuff links as I walk her to the dining room.

One of her palms wraps around my cock, stroking it and earning her a purred, “Good girl.”

Once upon a time, she used to be innocent. Every touch was hesitant, every stroke experimental, and every kiss shy. I broke her of those habits years ago.

Broke her.

And inevitably, us.

As if she knows the mental spiral I’m falling into, her grip on my cock tightens and pulls me from the thoughts leading me to rock bottom quickly. “Don’t,” she whispers, her hand fondling me until I twitch in her hand.

It’s enough to make me forget. At least for a little while. “You know exactly what I like, pretty girl.”

Forcefully, I push her over onto the corner of the expensive cherry table, lifting her dress and studying her perky round ass exposed to me. I’ve missed this sight more than I like to admit, and no number of cold showers with my hand around my dick can do the real thing any justice.

“Is this what you came here for?” I ask, running my finger down the seam of her and pressing against the entrance just north of where she’s aching for me. “Did you hope for this, my little slut?”

She sucks in a breath when the pad of my finger applies the slightest pressure against the puckered hole. Wiggling her hips, she juts her ass out and whimpers when my finger slides south until it gets closer to where she wants me most.

“No words?” I ask, bending over and biting her ass cheek hard enough to leave a mark behind. She gasps, causing me to smirk against her as I trail my nose down, down, down as if I’m going to get a taste.

I already know what she tastes like.

Sweet.

Sultry.

My Georgia Peach.

Mine.

Reality seeps in, washing away some of the lust clouding my vision.

No. Not mine.

Not anymore.

It breaks whatever spell she has on me.

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