Page 69 of Wicked Attraction

His big, hard body pressed against every inch of mine as his cock slowly invaded my pussy until he was buried deep.

So fucking deep.

“Mo.” My name. It was the only word he said, and it came out in a deep, guttural growl that shook me to my core. His big hands, strong hands, grabbed my tits, squeezing them as he pumped in and out of me, my cunt growing slicker with every thrust.

It was a slow and sensual encounter that fucked with my head because it felt like something lovers did, people who were in love, not people who just found pleasure in each other.

He touched me like I was precious. Like I mattered, and that feeling didn’t go away so easily.

His lips tenderly kissed my skin while his cock speared into me. Jasper sank his teeth into my shoulder as his thumbs grazed my nipples. It was too many sensations all at once. Love. Hate. Anger. Hope. Anticipation. Arousal.

Especially arousal.

Quicker than I would have liked, an explosion rocketed through me, making my whole body tremble. Moments later, Jasper growled as his pleasure caught up to him, hot spurts of liquid heating me from the inside out.

My body relaxed as the last aftershocks rose to the surface, yanking out the last of his orgasm. With a small, tender kiss on the back of my neck, Jasper left as quickly and as silently as he entered.

I stood under the hot spray until it turned lukewarm. Then, after I was all dried, powdered, and lotioned, I got dressed in a floral print dress that I paired with a denim jacket and red pumps.

I felt hot and confident, and that was exactly what I needed to give me the courage to pack my shit and get the fuck out of Ashby Manor.

I knew the security team wouldn’t let me out on my own, so I texted Hulu to pick me up, leaving my bags in the trunk as I headed to Midnight Mass.

My shift started in less than an hour, just enough time to grab a bite to eat and pretend that this morning never happened, despite my body’s efforts to remember every delicious moment.

“Thanks, Ginger.” I wore a wolfish smile as the waitress set the steaming plate of steak tips and colcannon in front of me. Usually, I fucking hated cabbage, but lately, I couldn’t get enough of the stuff.

The pub was mostly empty this time of day. A few small-time gamblers met in corner booths and dark tables to hide the fact they did business together.

A few old-timers hung out to day-drink and watch soccer and pretend they were back in the ‘old country.’ It was the perfect time to indulge in a meal and bury my thoughts and worries deep before my shift began.

The bell above the door trilled, and Agent Beck strolled in, a smirk on her face that told me the bitch was here to kick up shit.

I cursed myself for not being at the bar to activate the recording device Jasper used when he needed to blackmail someone into doing shit they should have agreed to in the first place.

Instead, I quickly pulled up the voice recorder app on my phone and hit the big red circle just as Bitch Face saddled up to the bar. As soon as she noticed me, she walked over to where I was sitting.

I looked up, feigning surprise. “Agent Beck, to what do I owe the displeasure of your company?”

She laughed. “Someone’s feeling feisty today, bold coming from a well-known whore.”

“We’re all whores, honey. I’m just honest about it.”

“I’m not a whore,” she grimaced, and I knew I had hit a nerve.

“Sure you are. Look at you, out here risking your life, your fragile mental state, and offering your governmental cunt to Jasper, all to get dirt on his mother.” I let out a snort mixed with a laugh. “I’m just a better-paid whore, and that pisses you off.”

“Oh, I’m not pissed off, Maureen. Not at all. Why would I be? I fucked Jasper because I wanted to, not to get info on Sadie.”

I didn’t believe her. Despite the knife that pierced my heart at her words, I didn’t believe that shit for one fucking second. Even if I did feel envy somehow, Jasper wasn’t mine to be jealous over.

“A drink for Agent Beck,” I said loud enough to let the customers know we had a cop on the premises. “Something strong and fruity to remove that giant stick up her scrawny ass.”

“Cute,” she growled. “You must be fuming right now, ready to hit me.”

“Only because you’re interrupting my meal.” I’d do a lot more than hit the bitch if I wasn’t pregnant.

“Not because I took a ride on your man’s dick? Because I have to tell you, it was worth the ethical lapse. His cock is a masterpiece, and the way he uses it, he picked the wrong line of work.”

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