Page 144 of Falling Offsides

"Until I leave," I whisper, honesty burning in my throat. "Every second until then."

His mouth comes down on mine. Tongue spearing past my lips, eating up all my moans when his hips snap forward, driving into me with a force that rattles the glass table beneath us. His fingers dig into my thigh, hiking it higher against his side as he sets a punishing rhythm that steals my breath.

"Every. Fucking. Second," he enunciates against my mouth, punctuating each word with a deep thrust. "Mine to mark. Mine to fuck. Mine to ruin."

My nails rake down his back, desperate for purchase as he pounds into me. The stretch and burn of him inside me borders on too much, yet somehow not enough. I want more. I want all of him. Want to be consumed by him.

"Yes," I gasp, my head falling back as he hits a spot that makes my vision blur. "Yours, all yours."

His mouth latches onto my exposed throat, sucking hard enough to leave a mark as his pace quickens. The table creaks beneath us, the sound of skin against skin filling the room as he drives deeper, harder.

"Tell me you're gonna think of me," he demands, his voice strained with effort. "Tell me you'll remember how I feel inside you."

"I will," I choke, overwhelmed by sensation. "I'll never forget…oh God!"

He shifts his angle, lifting me slightly off the table, and suddenly he's hitting something that makes my entire body convulse. Each thrust sends shockwaves through me, building toward something bigger than before.

"That's it," Auguste coaxes, watching my face contort with pleasure. "Give it to me again. Let me feel you come on my cock."

His thumb finds my clit, rubbing tight circles in time with his thrusts. The dual sensation is too much.

I'm falling, breaking apart, clenching around him as I crest again, clawing at his arms, unraveling under his weight and praise.

“That’s it, beautiful,” he groans, thrusting harder. “Be my good girl. Come for me again. All over my cock, Snow.”

I do.

I fall apart, soaking us both as I scream his name, legs trembling, muscles locking around him like I’ll die if he lets me go.

“Fuck… yes,” he barks down at where my pussy is clenching around his cock.

His hands wrap around my throat, holding me in place as he pistons deeper and harder.

“You take me so good… so fucking good… I’m going to fill you up, Court. To the fucking—fuuuuuuuck!”

His ragged voice echoes around us with the force of his release. Hot and deep as he spills into me, still grinding, still rocking as we both shudder through the high.

Auguste is so beautiful. So perfectly savage and untethered as he collapses into me and his mouth latches onto my throat again like he really can’t get enough of me.

“Good girl,” he whispers, soothing the burn of his bite with a kiss.

And I melt some more.

Because I’m his. Every dirty, needy, ruined part of me.

I’m shaking. Chest heaving. Limbs limp. The room’s gone fuzzy at the edges, like I’m looking through a haze of heat. My legs are still parted, twitching from the aftershocks as Auguste keeps kissing the side of my throat.

Not like before. Not claiming.

Softer. Like he’s rewarding me.

Lips brushing up the underside of my jaw, he murmurs, “You did so fucking good for me, Princess.”

His breath is still ragged, but his hands are gentle now. One slides beneath my back, the other under my knees. He lifts me like I weigh nothing at all and I bury my face in his neck, still coming down from the high he fucked me into. I can feel his heart hammering under his skin. Wild and steady. An accurate semblance of the man holding me.

“We ruined the table,” I whisper, dazed.

Auguste chuffs a breathless laugh. “I don’t give a fuck about the table.”

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