Page 145 of The Pucking Wrong Rookie

He kneaded my ass cheeks one more time before lifting me up and positioning the mushroomed head of his perfect dick at my opening.

I was about to beg again when he slammed me down, impaling me on his huge length.

My head fell back, and I moaned, trying to adjust to the fullness and learn how to breathe again. It was still a miracle every time he fit inside me.

His shirt was still on, and I pulled at it, frantic to feel his skin against me. He growled and ripped it open with one hand, buttons clattering to the floor around us. I clutched him desperately, my eyes finally fluttering open as I adjusted to his size.

“You’re choking my dick, baby,” he groaned, the sound so erotic that I gushed around him, my essence soaking our thighs.

“I love your dick,” I told him as my body started to move.

“And me. You love me, too,” he reminded me.

I moaned in response, his cock hitting that perfect spot in my core that only he could reach.

He captured my kiss, his tongue thrusting in, aggressive deep licks that I could feel everywhere.

I rocked against him, working my clit each time I shifted my hips.

“Yes, you’re perfect,” he murmured against my lips, his hands guiding my body in the perfect rhythm.

Sometimes it felt like he had been made just for me. From the fit of his dick, to the taste of his mouth…to how he knew just the pressure and movement to get me off.

Everything about him was perfect.

I cried out, an orgasm shooting through me, surprising me with its suddenness. He continued to move, working me up and down his dick as the pleasure coursed through me. “That’s my good girl,” he said, his voice smug as he leaned forward. “Now do it again.”

My pussy clenched at his words, and it was easy for the pleasure to build as his mouth closed around my nipple, sucking and pulling at the tender flesh while he slammed me onto his cock.

“You feel so fucking good. Your tight pussy is taking me so well,” he growled as he released my nipple and thrust up inside me, his gaze glued to where his dick was stretching my entrance.

“Logan,” I whimpered.

“That’s it, baby. Come one more time.”

My hands slid from around his neck, brushing against his cheeks as I stared into his green eyes, trying to center myself, to stay in the moment by focusing on the stubble on his cheek, the way he smelled, the feel of his huge length as it rutted in and out of me.

Hoarse cries were slipping from my lips as our bodies worked together, the pleasure building until my vision grew hazy. I was shaking and jerking against him as I came, the sensations stronger and brighter than anything I’d ever experienced before.

His groans joined mine, and a second later he was filling me with hot bursts of cum, so much that the liquid seeped out between us.

Between our…fluids and the paint, we’d destroyed this couch.

Worth it.

Logan shifted us and laid me gently back, somehow staying inside me as we moved. The look in his eyes had me thinking of that word again…forever. He rolled us so that we were both on our sides, and I was cradled in his arms.

I was sticky, and there was dried paint coating my skin. But as he brushed a kiss against my forehead, I was also sure that I’d never felt better.

CHAPTER39

SLOANE

Istood outside his office, the familiar chill of dread creeping up my spine. My palms were sweaty, and my heart had pounded harder with each step to the door. I’d done a lot of things I hated in my life, but walking into Everett’s office and telling him I was done—that I wasn’t going to work for him anymore—was probably one of the scariest.

I hated this mansion. I hated the memories and the reminders that this was where I’d chosen to ruin myself. I never came here if I could help it.

But I’d had to today. I’d had to do this in person, so he knew I was serious. I was done. I’d made up my mind.

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