The Takeover (The Miles High Club 2)

“Needy for what?” I breathe.

He bites my neck. “I need to be fucked, Anderson . . . and as my designated fuckee, you need to find a way to make that happen. Tonight.”

I smile as his hand goes to my behind, and he drags my body over his. His teeth graze my neck, and I smile up at the ceiling. He’s not joking; he really does need to be fucked. I can feel the need oozing out of him.

“How am I going to do that?” I whisper.

“I don’t know. Get creative.” He pushes me back against the wall hard, and my body weakens under his power.

“On the couch tonight—or in the laundry.” He kisses me again. “Fuck me in my car out on the street, for all I care. I just need you to fuck me.”

“Your car is too small,” I tease.

He grabs my behind aggressively and bites my bottom lip, and I whimper.

“Don’t dis the car.” With his eyes locked on mine, he bends and slides his hand up my thigh and through the leg of my panties. The backs of his fingers slide through my dripping wet flesh.

He clenches his jaw as his eyes flicker with arousal.

We stare at each other as the air swirls between us. I’ve never had this before.

A physical attraction so strong that all else pales in comparison.

“Or you could fuck me now,” he murmurs as he slides a finger in deep.

My eyes flutter closed. God, that feels good. “The children,” I whisper.

“Are distracted.” He unzips his trousers and falls into a seated position on the side of the bed and then brings me over to straddle him. He lifts my skirt and pulls my panties to the side and in one sharp movement slides home deep.

Our mouths fall open at the overwhelming pleasure. Our eyes are locked, and electricity crackles through the air like lightning.

He inhales sharply as we stare at each other.

“So . . . you love me,” he whispers as his lips take mine.

I begin to slowly rock back and forth. Oh . . . this is good. The feeling of him inside of me is just too good.

I smile and kiss his lips with an open mouth. “I do.”

He puts his mouth to my ear. “Fuck me like you hate me,” he whispers.

His grip tightens on my behind, and he begins to move me aggressively over his cock.

Suddenly we are frantic. He’s lifting me and bouncing me down hard onto him, and I’m trying to hold in my moans. But it’s hard to stay silent when your whole world is in beautiful Technicolor. He puts his hands on the backs of my shoulders and begins to really bring me down hard onto his large cock, and sharp, shooting stars of ecstasy begin to make me shudder. His mouth hangs slack as he watches me. “Fuck me,” he mouths. “Fuck me harder, Anderson.”

I bring my feet up onto the bed behind him, bringing me into a squat.

We both fall still at the deep position.

He shudders. His eyes close, and I know this is it. The position he was craving.

“I hate you,” I whisper.

He chuckles and bites my earlobe. Goose bumps scatter up my arms. “I hate you too,” he whispers into my ear with a sharp nip. “Hate me harder.”

I smile as he slams me down, and I shudder. He holds hi

mself deep and does the same. I feel from the telling jerk of his cock that he’s right here with me.