Page 42 of Devil In A Suit

“Give it everything you’ve got,” she says.

Grabbing her by the waist, I drive into her like a wild animal. Her defenseless body jerks. The sight of my cock buried inside her naked pale body while she writhes helplessly on my kitchen counter is indescribable. I’ve got her. I own her now. I can do whatever I want with her. She is my possession. For the next month, my cock is going to be inside every orifice. Day and night. I’m gonna fuck her. There will be no respite.

Her moans grow louder as I ram into her. Pleasure coils tightly within me until it feels like I’m ready to explode.

Suddenly she gasps, her body tightening around me as she’s pulled over the edge. Her cries fill the room, and the sound of it—her pure, raw pleasure—sends me spiraling. I’m no longer in control, and as her orgasm hits, I let my climax hit.

Everything else fades away as I lose myself completely.

In the distance, I hear her gasps, her cries, the weight of her body against mine. When it’s all over I pull out and look down. The sight of my seed leaking from her swollen pussy makes me smile. She is embarrassed and tries to straighten, but I push her back down. I get on my knees and lick her from clit to asshole.

I help her up and her knees are so weak she has to lean against the counter. I look at her flushed face. She looks exhausted.

“You licked me after sex. No man has done that.”

I slide an arm around her knees and hoist her into my arms.

“What are you doing?” she whispers.

“Taking you to bed. It’s been a long day for you, Little Miss Muffet.”

“Are you the spider?” she asks and yawns.

“What do you think?”

“I think yes,” she says sleepily.

“Then that is what I am.”

“You know Miss Muffet ran away from the spider, don’t you?”

“Yes, I know.”

She stares into my eyes as I carry her up the stairs. By the time we reach the bedroom, she looks half-asleep. I lay her down on the bed and pull the duvet over her. She curls like a cat on her side. I watch her for a moment, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction.

I don’t get attached easily, and I don’t take an interest in people. But I’m breaking all the rules for her. There is a frown on my face, as I switch off the lamp by her bed and exit the room.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

LARA

Ifeel sticky and I reek of dirty sex.

I want to get up and clean myself, but I find myself unable to move. I lie on the bed as if paralyzed. All I can do is stare up at the ceiling and loathe myself for how weak I feel.

I realize my month here is going to be far more complicated than I imagined it would be.

I’ve had sex before, many times, well enough to know that there’s nothing too special about it. When it happens, he comes, sometimes I get to come as well, then it’s lights out. But it is clear to me now that I’ve been living quite pathetically, missing out on something this amazing.

Rather than counting down the days towards my freedom from him, I will likely be begging him to keep me around longer. Turning onto my side, I force myself to close my eyes and stop reliving the last hour of my life.

My dreams are haunted. In it my mother is still alive and we are all having dinner in a dark candle lit cave. Ivan comes to serve us food and my father stabs him with a fork. I scream and wake up with a start.

Rubbing my eyes, I look around the room, which is now brightly lit by sunlight filtering in through the window. Again, the impression of extreme cleanliness fills me. Everything looks brand new with not a mark or stain anywhere.

I head toward the bathroom. It’s time for that much-needed shower. The rain shower is pure heaven and afterwards, I slide into the fluffy white bathrobe. As I head towards the walk-in wardrobe my phone starts ringing. It must be my dad going out of his mind with worry.

I run to my bag to retrieve my phone and, of course, it’s Dad.

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