Page 114 of Passenger Princess

I moan loudly at his words, then louder as he slides into me with ease.

"Perfect," he moans when he's planted deep. "You were made to be fucked by me."

I nod, agreeing because he's right. You can't convince me I wasn't put on this earth to get fucked by Jaime, to have him give me all-consuming pleasure, and to return the favor.

"Fuck me, Jaime," I whisper, and his eyes flare with heat but he does what I ask, sliding out and slamming into me, hitting deep and hard with each thrust. My tit bounces, my body supported on my elbows. One hand shifts, and I hold my breast, tugging on the nipple.

His eyes watch as I pinch almost too hard, moaning and clamping down on him.

"Youre so fucking tight like this, Ava. Fuck. And all mine."

"Yours," I moan breathily. "I'm yours to fuck, yours to own. Please," I murmur, begging him to make me come, to ease the ache in my stomach he's building higher and higher, adding to with each deep buck of his hips into mine.

My hand moves down from my breast, down my belly, and his eyes burn on me as I do, as I spread my fingers around where he's filling me, feeling him sliding through them and clamping down as I do. The feeling is too intoxicating, and I'm almost there, almost ready to come with him inside of me when he shifts again. His hands are on my ass, lifting me up and taking two steps back before he sits in the large cushioned chair the hotel provided for my vanity, sitting me in his lap.

"Oh, fuck," I moan louder, feeling him slide somehow deeper now, hitting new sensitive spots deep inside. I shift my hips and shout his name.

I'm so fucking close.

He grabs my hands, placing them on his shoulders. "Ride," he says, an order in his words as his hands move to my hips.

He doesn't have to ask me twice. With my shins planted in the cushion of the chair, I move to lift, a low moan leaving my lips as I do.

"Fuck, you feel good," he groans, using his hands to slam me down and grind against me, my hips rocking as his pelvis scrapes against my swollen clit.

"Oh!"

"That's it, Ava. Take what you need from me. Ride my cock."

His hand moves up to my face, gently resting there, forcing me to look into his eyes. We share a breath, our lips barely touching, as he whispers words of encouragement. My hips buck and pleasure—more all-consuming than it's ever been—builds in my belly until I close my eyes with a moan.

"No," I say. "It's too much."

"No, it's not. Open your eyes. I want your eyes when my queen comes for me." I open them, locking on his hazel eyes, and as I move in a downward glide, I erupt, calling out his name as one of his hands moves to my ass, holding me down as his hips buck up, as he buries deep with a groan of satisfaction, filling me.

I sit in his lap like that, panting, trying to come down from what just transpired, feeling him soften inside of me when his hand moves up to my face, pulling me close and kissing me, his tongue sliding into mine, and it's so good, I almost forget I have to finish getting ready and he's probably fucking up my makeup.

"Jaime!" I say, pulling back. “I can't believe you made it throughfucking mewithout fucking up my makeup, but now that we're all done andthenyou decide to?!"

He chuckles, his eyes warm and easy as he lifts me off him before standing, towering over me as he does.

His thumb slides along my bottom lip before he says, "Go, Princess. Go fix your lipstick, then get dressed so we can go."

It's reminiscent of our very first kiss, the way he left the room because, in his own words, if he had stayed another moment, he would have fucked me senseless.

I realize then we'll always be like this: impulsive and wildly in love and unable to resist each other.

And even though it's predictable, it's a predictability I am more than happy to fall into.

A year later

"Rosie!" I yell as I enter the small pink bookstore we came to almost two years ago. It's changed a bit—some new decorations and obviously new releases—but it's the same for the most part, and that's strangely comforting.

"Ava! How are you?" the brunette asks, coming over to me and pulling me into a hug.

"I'd be better if you opened up a second location in New Jersey," I say when we pull away. "That way I don't have to convince the big guy to drag me all the way to the West Coast just to go shopping."

It's nottotallytrue, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't plan a Pretty Strong pop-up in Washington with the intention of stopping by.

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