Sofa King Wrong - Page 17

Hard.

I see stars, grinding so deep into her as the cum blasts into her over and over and over again. I gasp, and she cries out in pleasure as my hot seed ropes into her, filling her up to the brim as we both gasp for air and slump down onto the bed. I’m still on top of her, and I don’t want to crush her with the weight of me, so I slowly pull out. I stroke my slick, sticky cock and grunt as more cum splashes down on her ass. I watch, smug and satisfied like a caveman who’s just branded his woman as I watch my white creamy cum spill out of her freshly fucked pussy.

I made a damn mess of her.

Good.

“Come on, baby girl,” I purr. I’m tender now, my fierceness gone. The beast’s thirst quenched. For now.

I gingerly lift her up. She’s going to be sore. Fuck, so am I. But I’m guessing from the look of bliss on her face that we both think it’s worth it.

“And just where are you taking me?” she mumbles, grinning at me as she kisses my lips when I pick her up into my arms.

“To clean us both off.”

She bites her lip. “That part of the job too?”

I grin. “Definitely.”

“You going to protect me in the shower?”

“I’m, going to protect you everywhere, angel,” I growl, kissing her. “Everywhere, for always.”

8

Diesel

“You’re seriously not going to?”

I raise a sharp eyebrow at her over the steaming rim of my mug.

“No, I’m not.”

Alyssa rolls her eyes. “You’re acting like I’ve never had a drink before. I mean, you’ve seen the tabloids.”

“Considering that a year ago, what we just did would have been prosecutable in just about every state? No, princess. I’m not putting booze in your hot chocolate.”

She sticks her tongue out at me, and damn does it make me want to cup her jaw and bruise those bratty lips with mine. Actually, that’s exactly what I do.

She moans as our lips crush together, and I can feel the electric charge that comes with kissing her coursing through my body. She tastes like chocolate and temptation. She smells like sunshine and sex. I pull away, growling to myself as I take her in. We’re standing in the huge, modern kitchen of her house, the only light coming from the light above the eight-burner stove. And I’ve just made us hot chocolate.

Hot chocolate without the brandy she asked me to pour into it. I wasn’t kidding. We might be…well, whatever the hell we are after what we just did. And I might be most certainly breaking the rules of this job and probably jeopardizing my friend’s business reputation, not to mention my own. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to be giving booze to an eighteen year-old. No matter how tempting she is. No matter how fucking beautiful she looks with her hair all wild and loose, her face flushed from me making her come.

No matter how much the sight of her in just a tight t-shirt and panties makes my cock want to plunge inside that sweet candy pussy all over again, right here on the floor.

Hot chocolate felt…comforting, I guess. It felt protective, like I needed to do that after claiming her like I did. Dominating her, unleashing the full lust and might of the beast inside of me as I fucked her like a man possessed. The thing is, Alyssa got exactly what I was doing when I offered to make her a mug.

“Hot chocolate?”

I’d just shrugged, but she’d bitten her lip, grinning at me.

“You going to make me some hot chocolate now, daddy?”

…Actually, that got her fucked against her bedroom door before we did finally end up coming down here for a couple of steaming mugs.

I sip my own cup, my eyes burning into her, my head swimming like the steam rising from the chocolate. There’s a part of me that knows this is insane, and that I’m risking a ton for a girl I’ve literally just met. But then, I know what I know. And I know what I feel. I know that there hasn’t been a woman in years who’s turned my head like her. And again, though yes, she’s gorgeous, and young, and sexy as fuck, it ain’t just that. There’ve been other beautiful women crossing through my life — more than a few since prison who’ve made it clear what’s available to me.

And yet, I never took any of them up on it. Never wanted to. Never could.

But somehow, Alyssa’s different. That spark and that fire in her sets me blazing, and there ain’t nothing that’s going to put it out. And really, when I think about it now, there are reasons the two of us just sort of connect like we do — despite it being wrong, or my being twice her age. While I was making the hot chocolate, Alyssa told me about growing up in Georgia. About her deadbeat dad who walked out on them, and about her money-hungry mother willing to pimp her out to Hollywood for a cut.

Tags: Madison Faye
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