Page 167 of Ewan

“Please…” she begs, unable to draw pleasure from the air.

My erection bounces up, and I’m seconds away from coming. I still have something to do before I finish her, so I move her hips closer to me and enter her from behind, her head in the pillow, her center tight as I said it would be. Fuck me. The sensation is amazing.

I thrust into her to satiate my hunger, and she can’t come just yet, so it’s up to me.

Really, it’s up to me how much longer I can’t keep myself from blasting my load.

Every thrust into her has been hard earned.

Every thrust in her is like a trip to heaven.

My pace increases, and with a last flicker of logic, I realize I need to take her with me, or I’ll leave her unfinished with my seed inside her and all over her.

I grab the back of her hair to see the wince on her face, her back extended, and her chest propped against the pillows.

I’m so tempted to let all that tension go and make it up to her somehow when she starts to turn to me so I can top her.

I push her back down, a fight ensuing until I have her on her stomach, under me, and finally entering her over and over and over again.

The writhing of her body does me in.

Her screaming against the pillow is music to my ears.

The fact that she can’t do anything, and only let her pleasure soar and soar until she blacks out and surrenders for good is perfection.

When her pussy starts to pulse like crazy, I fuck her hard.

The hardest I have ever fucked someone.

This is also the farthest I have come with someone.

I took my time to bring her here, and she delivered.

And judging by the crying moans, the heaving of her chest, and the puddle between her legs, which isn’t only my cum but also her arousal, we have sealed the deal.

This isn’t only about sex.

This is about marking her as mine.

The little goddess I locked in a cage of passion.

Let’s see if she wants out.

That will be fun to watch.

34

SCARLETT

The next day

“Thank you so much,”Mrs. Eisenhower says, doing a double take at me while taking her gift from me. “You shouldn’t have,” she adds, unwrapping it.

I protest with a soft gesture.

“It’s my pleasure,” I say politely.

She points to the couch.

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