Page 75 of All's Fair In Love & War

What Goes Up Must Come Down

Felicity

My body was hot, overheated, and humming with need, and I was seconds from combusting. The moan, loud and aching, sat heavy on my lips, threatening to slip out and put all our dirty little secrets on display. Not wanting anyone to hear it, I leaned forward and smashed my mouth into Khalil’s, kissing him so deeply I could barely breathe.

The second his tongue met mine, I creamed right then and there, the friction between us too much, too perfect. My thighs clenched around him as I rolled my hips once more, slower this time, dragging every ounce of pleasure from his lap. His hand clamped down on my ass, hard enough to bruise, and I knew I had crossed a line he wasn’t going to let slide. Not now. Not in front of everyone. His kiss turned violent in the best way, teeth, tongue, heat, until he pulled back and groaned against my lips.

“You really don’t give a fuck, do you?”

And the truth was, I didn’t.

“Why should I? We’re getting married, right?” I answered, I answered, eyes locked on his, voice all sugar and venom. “Might as well give them a preview.”

His jaw clenched so tight I thought it might crack. The muscle ticked along his cheek, his eyes darkening into something primal. For a second, I thought he might pull me into another kiss. Instead, he gripped my waist so hard I gasped, then stood with me in his arms and tossed me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing.

Laughter and shocked expressions rose around us, but I didn't care, or at least, that's what I needed everyone, including myself, to believe. Khalil walked through the club with a purpose, not bothering to stop to speak or explain anything to the onlookers. The only thing I could feel was the heat of him against my stomach, the wetness between my thighs, and the terrifying certainty that I was falling apart in the most public way possible.

The moment we were on the top floor of the three-level club and Khalil shoved me into his office, I knew I was in trouble. The door slammed shut behind us, the sound echoing like an explosion. Before I could even think to protest, he had me pinned to the wall, my wrists trapped above my head in one of his massive hands. His other hand gripped my waist, fingers digging into my flesh like he wanted to leave bruises as his body pressed against mine, every inch of him screaming dominance.

“You like being slutty in front of my people?” he growled, his breath hot against my mouth. “Then I’m fucking you like one.”

My heart slammed against my ribs, a frantic rhythm that matched the heat pooling between my thighs. I couldn’t help it. His words, his tone, and the sheer fucking force of him lit me up like a wildfire. I swallowed hard, trying to steady my breathing,but it was useless. My body betrayed me, arching into his, craving his touch, his punishment, him.

“Khalil—" I started, but he cut me off with a sharp, biting kiss.

His lips crashed into mine, demanding and possessive, stealing my breath. His tongue shoved past my lips, claiming me, owning me. I moaned into his mouth, the sound swallowed by his relentless hunger. One hand moved away from my waist, fiddling with the button of my shorts before he pulled them down to my ankles. Wanting them out of the way, I kicked them aside and spread my legs wide, giving him full access to me.

His fingers didn’t hesitate, sliding roughly between my legs, finding me slick and ready.

"I knew that pussy was already wet for me," he muttered against my lips, his tone equal parts disgust and desire. "I didn’t miss when you came on my lap in front of everyone."

I didn’t deny it. Couldn’t. He was right—and I loved every minute of it.

Khalil’s fingers pressed hard against my clit, circling in tight, punishing strokes that had me whimpering. I clenched around nothing, desperate for more, for him. The way he manhandled me, the way he didn’t ask, just took, aroused me to the point of trembling.

"Fuck me," I gasped, voice breaking.

“Say, please fuck me, Sir,” he snarled, eyes dark and locked on mine, his voice dripping with lust and authority. “Beg for this dick.”

I didn’t hesitate. “Please,” I whispered, my voice trembling with need. “Please, fuck me, Sir. I need you to teach me a lesson for being a nasty, slut bitch in public.”

That was all he needed.

Khalil shoved my thighs apart with one knee, pinning me harder against the wall. I heard the sound of his belt buckleclinking, the harsh rasp of his zipper, and then he was there, his dick thick and hard, pressing against my entrance. He didn’t go slow, and didn’t ease into me. Instead, he thrust in one brutal stroke, splitting me open and filling me completely.

I cried out, my head slamming back against the wall, my nails scraping at his shoulders as he buried himself to the hilt. He didn’t give me time to adjust, didn’t give a fuck about my comfort. He pulled out almost all the way, then slammed back in, setting a punishing pace that left me gasping, writhing, and clinging to him.

“You better not scream,” he warned, his breath hot against my neck. “Take every fucking inch of this dick."

And I did. I took it all, every rough thrust, every cruel word, every flash of pain and pleasure that made my vision blur. Khalil fucked me like he both hated me, loved me, and couldn’t get enough of me simultaneously.

His grip on my hips tightened as he slammed into me deeper, harder, his voice dark and thick in my ear. “This is what you wanted, huh? For me to use your body as I please? You wanted me to violate this pussy?”

I couldn’t speak, nor could I breathe, not even an utterance of a reply.

“This pussy’s mine now, you understand me? You don’t nut unless I say so.”

The instant he commanded me to hold back, my body defied my will, unraveling in a cascade of overwhelming sensations. I shattered around him, a scream tearing from my lips that defied any attempt at restraint. The climax surged through me, a molten wave of heat and intensity that seemed to stretch into infinity, leaving me trembling and boneless.

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