Page 85 of Retribution

Whatever it is he’s doing, it’s fucking working.

The forbidden climax is teasing me, it swells low in my abdomen with every individual thrust as Reed throws filthy words at me, telling me how much I don’t deserve to be rewarded with an orgasm. It only tempts my body more, knowing that it wants something that it shouldn’t. Feels all the more familiar.

I try to mask my impending doom but my body tenses as my vision starts to become clouded with stars and my brain buzzes with ecstasy.

At the last moment I cave, and throw myself forward onto the desk, but barely reach it as Reed snaps me back up by my hair, the stinging feeling intensifying everything. My body tries to collapse in on itself as I implode, a rush of bliss filling me from the inside out. My juices run down my legs as I feel Reed tense behind me, his body folds over mine and his grunts turn into a forceful cry, feeling his warmth fill me.

We’re both panting for air, our chests causing our bodies to rise and fall. My legs feel completely weak, my ass and throat feel sore and I’m still trying to come down from my place in the clouds.

Reed pulls out of me and spins me around, his cheeks are flushed, and his chest is lined with sweat, his cock swollen. He shoves his fingers inside of me unexpectedly, taking my breath away. He pulls his fingers out and lifts them between us, they’re lined with a sticky white substance. I glance between his fingers and him, a sadistic look across his face.

“Suck on my fingers and taste how good we are together.”

I gulp, slowly nodding. I wrap my hand around his thick wrist and bring his hand closer to my mouth and take my time licking and sucking on his lengthy fingers. The sweet but salty liquid lines my mouth and eventually my throat, heating my core at the mixture we’ve created. He moans in delight until I pull away, his fingers now clean but still lined with my saliva.

We look at each other and I can’t help it, but I burst out laughing. He looks at me with confusion, but I can’t stop myself.

I’m full-on belly laughing at Reed Breckenridge after the most heated, intense sexual experience I’ve had yet.

“What?” he chuckles, my laughter seemingly contagious and flashing me his divine smile.

“I just… did not expect that,” I confess.

He purses his lips and shrugs, as if this was no big deal to him. He may have had sex like that hundreds of times but for me, it was a first.

Definitely one to remember.

I find Reed’s t-shirt in the corner of the room and seize the opportunity to steal it. I slip it over my head, untucking my hair from the collar.

“Just perfect.” He mutters quietly, biting his clenched fist.

Blushing, I shake my head, trying to deflect his compliment.

“I can’t believe you’re all mine.” He beams.

Something about the way he said that has my stomach doing back-flips. Something about it just made the terms of our contract visually blurry, and I don’t think either of us care to rectify that.

Chapter 21

Indie

“These strawberries are sensational!” Erica, one of the bridesmaids confesses.

I pick at the blueberries and top up my champagne flute whilst Lola finishes getting her hair styled.

Gracie is sitting beside me, feasting on a plate of pancakes. I swear her metabolism works on overdrive as she eats a horrendous amount of junk and remains under one-hundred-and-thirty pounds, the number I’ve battled with for a couple of years. I’ll stick to the carb-free for now.

Despite my taller frame, I was blessed with hips and tits after stepping down from my competitive career, which I’m sure, are the reason I can’t lose those extra pounds.

I’ve already had my makeup professionally done and we have around an hour until the ceremony. The Bridal Room is a generous size, sporting an array of ‘girly’ decorations. There are five ‘Hollywood’ style dressing tables lined up on one side of the room and on the opposite wall sits every kind of hair styling tool.

It’s interesting, considering most women hire professionals to come in to do the hard work.

I wonder if they’ve ever been used?

In the center of the room is a long glass table that currently has a breakfast spread across the expanse of it. There are pastries, every fruit imaginable, pancakes and several bottles of champagne.

All of our dresses are locked away in the back room, none of us risking putting them on until the last minute. Knowing my luck, I’d end up with some sort of monstrosity art design of champagne and orange juice on mine. I’m not dancing with the devil today.

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