Page 74 of Major Penalty

I lick her through it and slide my fingers out while she’s still pulling me against her.

I’m not leaving, little one. There’s no getting rid of me now.

Because she hasn’t seen what I look like when I own someone.

I unbutton the top of my pants and straighten over her, breath ragged, jaw tight, the need crawling through my veins like fire.

She’s a flushed, quivering mess. Her body is wide open for me, but I want her soul. And I’ll work for it until she gives it to me. I’m a patient man.

I press her thighs wider with a single hand, then glance up at the red light above us. The security camera blinks silently.

“Unzip me,” I growl, looking back down at her.

Her eyes fly to mine, wide and dazed.

“Unzip me and take my cock out. Just like last night.”

She purses her lips in an attempt to suppress a smile at the mention of last night before she looks down. She lifts her hand tentatively, and her fingers find my zipper before pulling it down. The sound makes it feel louder and forbidden.

Irene shifts so she can slide her hand in, and when her soft fingers finally wrap around me, my vision fucking blurs.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Her touch is shy and careful as she takes my cock out. My length springs free, and she parts her lips to suck in a gulp of air.

“Now stroke me. Slowly,” I command, trying to hold myself back. “Just like I taught you last night.”

She obeys, each glide of her hand is like heaven and hell all at once. She glances up at me with a hopeful yet questioning look in her beautiful brown eyes, seeking confirmation that she’s doing it right.

“You’re doing so good,” I rasp, cupping her cheek. “Just like that.”

Her eyes light up at the praise, then drop lower again.

“Where do you want me?” I ask, my hand sliding off her cheek and dragging down her body.

She doesn’t answer. Just spreads her legs wider in a silent, devastating invitation, her pussy glistening—wet, open, waiting.

My cock throbs at the sight, and a growl rips from my throat.

“Do it, then,” I murmur.

“W-what?” she breathes.

“Show them,” I whisper against her lips. “Show the cameras how much you want it.”

Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, her eyes dark with hunger. She reaches between us—not to take control but to guide. Her fingers wrap around me, soft and hesitant, and she drags me through her slick heat. A low curse tears from my throat.

She rubs me against herself until I’m slick with her. Then, with a shaky breath, she lines me up at her entrance. Her gaze locks on mine, wide and pleading, and she guides me in—inch by inch—welcoming me with her touch.

The second I feel the tip sink into her heat, I'm lost.

“Mm,” she whimpers, lips pressed tight, her body opening to the stretch. But she doesn’t stop. She keeps guiding me in—slowly, steadily—inch by devastating inch. Her face twists in a mix of pain and pleasure.

And fuck, this—this is the moment I’ll replay until I die. The moment she lets me in. Her choice. Her terms. On her own, in front of whoever she thinks might watch the footage from the cameras above us. The only eyes that will see it are mine. No one else. Ever.

She’s pulled me halfway inside her when her hand slides off and she lets out a long moan, clearly having reached her limit.

Good.

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