Page 117 of Darling Obsession

“I’m sorry for being naughty.”

She whimpers as I drag my stubble over her skin, making her shiver.

“Because you know what good girls get, don’t you?” I pluck her clit with my fingers and lightly bite her breast.

She gasps.

“Good girls get to come,” I murmur, “so hard.”

I suck a hard nipple into my mouth. She moans.

This.Fuck, I needed this.

I grasp her hips again in both hands and start jerking her up and down, making her fuck me. I suck harder, and she starts to take over, riding me in a frenzy.

My thumb slides over her clit, rubbing insistently, as my other hand squeezes her ass, which is slippery with buttercream. It’s all over my thighs. I don’t even care what a mess we’re making, laser-focused on her pleasure now.

My cock is impossibly hard as she rides it, and I tell her, “That’s a good girl. Fuck that cock, Quinn.”

She moans. I cup her breasts with my buttercream-coated hands and feed them into my mouth. The more I suck, the more her rhythm stutters, the louder she moans. I feel her pussy contract, squeezing me, and my balls throb as she bounces on them.

“Harlan,” she pants, “can I… I need to come. Please?”

It’s so fucking sweet when she asks me for permission.

So fucking hot when her pussy pulses around my shaft.

I’m right there with her.

“Yes, baby. You can come. Put a big, juicy come on that dick.”

I’ve barely got the words out when she’s grinding against me and shuddering, crying out. She crushes her face into my neck, hips jerking, and I lose it. I slam her hips down on me and release with a growl of pleasure, filling her in hot bursts.

We’re still coming when her phone starts to ring.

It must be her phone; it’s an annoying electronic jingling, coming from the kitchen counter.

We both ignore it. Eventually it stops, and we cling together, panting, a sweaty, buttercream-smeared mess.

Then her phone chimes a few times.

She lifts her face from my neck and meets my eyes. Her pretty face is flushed, and awash with sated pleasure. “Well. That was messy,” she says dreamily.

I pull her to me and kiss her soft, swollen lips.

And her phone starts ringing again.

She moans, but not with pleasure this time.

“Is that your phone?”

“Yes. Shit.” She gets up, awkwardly extracting me from her body as she stumbles a bit. I catch her. “I should see if it’s important. It could be Mom.”

I smack her ass, and she flashes me a dirty look before darting across the room.

I struggle to stand myself, and debate whether to pull my pants back up right over the buttercream, or try to slip up to my shower, pants down, without running into any of my staff.

“Oh my god.”

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