Page 52 of Sweet Deception
“You’re going to make me come again…” I rake my nails down his back. His body arches against my touch as a deep, satisfied sound rumbles up in his throat.
“Took the words right out of my mouth.” With his palm, he holds the back of my head and slaps his waist against mine in quick, rapid succession.
The pleasure buildup in my core is nothing short of death-defying.
Darren’s going to destroy me this way. I know it.
His cock slams in to the hilt, and all at once, the tension in my muscles releases in one huge convulsion. I cry out, loud as a thunderclap, shaking and bucking beneath Darren’s body as he jams his cock in without slowing down. “Yeah, baby…come for me.”
My eyes clamp shut, thrusting me into total darkness as sensations tear me apart from the inside out. And then he groans, low, rough, and forceful, while dropping his waist hard against mine. He shudders and floods me with a sudden burstof warmth. Darren rolls his hips a few more times, his gorgeous body twitching as my pussy drains the last of his load right out of him.
Panting and tangled together, we lie in this heated silence for several minutes, and the intimacy of it is…awful.
Super gross.
The way I want to fall asleep with him, with his cock still lodged inside me…
His hot, heavy breaths on my shoulder. His weight anchoring me to this mattress and this moment. The bone-deep satisfaction of his semen inside me.
These thoughts, emotions, and sensations are foreign to me.
This is the most frightened I’ve ever been.
Not just because I’m afraid of him, but because I’m scared of myself.
I don’t recognize this person I’ve become. Not this woman who dissolves and loses herself at the touch of this man’s hand. Distressed tears silently pass my temples and disappear into my hairline.
All the restraint and self-control I’ve carefully cultivated over the years…gone.
I’m undone. I can’t do this. Darren’s broken something inside me, and I don’t know how or if I’ll survive long enough to put it back together again.
After an eternity, Darren lifts himself off me.
My body is immediately cold, craving his warmth and the ecstasy of his skin on mine. But, wordlessly, he detangles himself, and I let him, praying he can’t see the tracks of my tears in the dark. Holding my breath, I wait as he climbs off the bed, dresses himself with slow, deliberate movements, and glides to the door.
As soon as the door is back in its frame with Darren on the other side, the dead bolt chinks. I’m locked in again.
This is the moment I allow myself to cry, really cry, for the first time in years. I burrow into the bedsheets stained with the scent of him as sorrow, anguish, and sex-fueled exhaustion drag me under the surface of consciousness.
I fall into a fitful sleep for a couple of hours. When my eyelids peel open again, my head pounds like a snare drum. It’s still pitch black outside.
Even after the short rest, I’m shaken and reeling from how much pleasure that horrible man gave me.
But my mind has never been so clear.
I’ve got to get out.
Before Darren kills me or what’s left of my resolve.
Once I sit up, I glimpse my salvation across the room.
Dragging my sore, still pulsating body out of bed and over to the dresser, I grab the laptop Darren forgot to take with him.
When I log into my cloud account, I discover that my decryption is complete.
After much struggle, I’m finally through the Irish Kings’ security shields.
I just wish one of the Kings hadn’t gotten through me.
