Page 75 of Deception & Daylight
Not breaking eye contact, she spits into the palm of her hand and I damn near combust on the spot before she’s even touched me. I release a guttural groan as her fist wraps around my length, stroking me roughly, just the way I like it. Not wasting any time, I bunch her skirt up around her hips, taking care not to tear the fabric. My fingers glide through her soaked center, dipping inside before returning to circle her clit. Our lips collide in a messy kiss, hands working each other into a frenzy until I can’t take it anymore.
With both hands on her hips, I tug her ass to the edge and her hands release me to catch herself before she crashes backwards. With both of her hands now braced on the desk, I line us up and plunge forward to the hilt. She lets out a strangled moan when I pull back and repeat the motion. Her cries and pants aren’t the only sound filling the quiet office as our bodies collide in a chorus of filthy noises.
“Feel that?” I thrust harder, sinking so deep she’ll still feel me tomorrow. “That’s what it feels like to own a man, body and soul. I belong to you just as much as you belong to me. Say it, Mags.”
“I’m yours.”
“No. Not that. You know what I want to hear. Say it.”
“You’re mine.”
“That’s right, baby girl. I’m yours. We’re done fucking pretending.”
“Yes. God. I’m gonna come. Make me come, Miles.”
Our foreheads collide as I grip the back of her neck, bringing the other hand between us to circle her clit with my thumb. After a few rough strokes, I feel her clenching around my cock, her thighs convulsing as she falls apart beneath me. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you come for me.”
Her arms wrap tightly around my neck as she comes down from her high, I continue my assault, drawing out her orgasm with each rough thrust until I follow her into oblivion, filling her with my release. I bring her to my chest with a palm on the back of her head, my heartbeat slowing its frantic pace as we suck in ragged breaths.
Some time later, a knock at the door pulls us out of our sex drunk haze. I help Maggie clean herself up, swiping my thumbs under her eyes to fix the mascara smudges, but there’s not much I can do for the state of her hair. She’s a fucking mess, leaving no doubt what just happened. I open the door to find a very amused looking Paige. “Just so you know, Cade had to turn up the music to drown out Maggie’s screams.”
I raise my hand for a high five, and Paige returns it with enthusiasm. Eyeing my girl up and down, Paige says, “You might want to go out the back door. And that’s not a euphemism.”
I laugh, pulling a mortified Maggie into my arms. “Let’s go home.”
Chapter 31
Mags
? Call It What You Want - Taylor Swift
Istare down at the article my father’s assistant sent over; the one with the headline that reads:“Watson Heiress Exposed as Secret Smut Siren.”The email is little more than a link and her standard office signature. My doting father couldn't even be bothered to chastise me himself. His silence is deafening.
My phone has been ringing off the hook since before it was even acceptable to call people. I mean really, who answers the phone at 7am on a Sunday? I fall back onto the bed, tossing the comforter over my head, screaming out my frustrations into the fabric.
Footsteps approach telling me Miles is back from his run, and cool air hits my face as he peels back the comforter, just enough to expose the top half of my face. “Morning, Wildcat. You good?” I snag my phone from beneath the pillow and hold it up for him to read.
Maggie Watson, daughter of media mogul Arthur Watson, has been revealed as bestselling author M.W. Hartley. Her debut novel, Love Between Loathing, became a viral sensation early last year, having garnered attention for her particularly salacious scenes. We reached out to Mr. Watson’s representatives, but he has declined to comment. This story is still developing.
“Shit. How are you holding up?”
“I’m fine, all things considered. It had to come out eventually. I don’t know what’s worse. That he had his assistant send me the link, or that they called me a Smut Siren.”
He chuckles at the mention of the ridiculous nickname, his hand squeezing my calf over the plush comforter. “Smut Siren does have a certain ring to it. You should add that to your website.”
Just then, my phone chimes with yet another notification, only this time it’s the group chat.
Books & Baddies Book Club has been changed to Smut Siren Fan Club
Paige: Breakfast at Rosie’s?
Ivy: I can be there in 15
Paige: See if Ro has any of Livie’s cupcakes in the case. I’ll be there in 20.
Mags: You had me at cupcakes.
Miles snags the phone from my grip and types out his own message as I struggle to take it back, and by the time he shoots off the first text, I’ve climbed him like a tree andhe’s wearing me like a JanSport.
