Page 15 of Desperate Actions

Her tits are high and perky. Large, but not overly so.

Her waist indents a little, flaring out as it travels over those wide hips to that juicy ass. I can’t help but want to bite it.

Then it’s her thick thighs and toned calves on display, followed by tiny little feet stuck into a pair of mile high stilettos.

Geezus. Fuck.

I want to drag her to me and claim her here and now with my mouth.

I want to grab a fucking blanket and wrap her up, tuck her away from covetous eyes.

A million emotions roll through me, but I am helpless to do anything about them.

Not here. Not now.

I tell myself that a dozen times, but it’s doing nothing to help.

I scrub my hand over my face.

Because that is the least of what I want to do to her.

What I really want is so much worse.

I want to fuck this woman on my cock every which way I can.

I want to cover her inme.

Tattoo myself onto her skin.

My scent. My saliva. My sweat. My cum.

I want to drink from the source of her sweet nectar. Devour her.

I want to pull her hair as I fuck her from behind, make her scream my name as I paint her womb and get her swollen with my kid.

I want it all with her and I want it yesterday.

Dinner is a riotous affair, and I am glad for the sit down table and atmosphere. It’s camouflage and I really fucking need the break.

Any more of Aella standing there, her gorgeous body on display, my cock straining to punch a hole through my slacks, and someone was bound to notice.

Chapter 4-Aella

“Wow!”

Jade rushes toward me the second I step out of the elevator, eyes wide, hands already grabbing for me like she can’t believe what she’s seeing.

I giggle, a little breathless, and sway slightly on my heels—too damn high, but I’m wearing them, anyway.

Because tonight is different. Tonight, I am different.

Of course, my nerves are a nightmare, so I popped a Pepcid before heading down with Coral.

Because acid reflux and existential crises go hand in hand, apparently.

The hotel reserved this elevator exclusively for the two penthouse floors, meaning we pretty much have private access to it.

The mystery royal guest Balor mentioned on the plane hasn’t been seen or heard from, but honestly? I don’t give a damn.

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