Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
“You taste like fucking candy.”
I bit my lip hard. “Court… please… we-we shouldn’t.”
“Yes, oh yes, we fucking should.”
And then my walls crumbled. I knew why I had been fighting this. There were a millions reasons to say no. But with Court Kensington pinning me against a wall with my wetness on his fingers and sucked into his mouth as he all but commanded my very body, how could I say no? Why would I say no?
I reached up onto my tiptoes and crushed my mouth to his.
Damn it all.
15
English
The line to the bathroom had vanished by the time I came up for air. Court took my hand and dragged me into it. He kicked the door shut and yanked the bolt into place. The air was charged between our bodies. As if electricity crackled from the mounting tension of the last couple of weeks.
Our limbs tangled around each other as our lips came together. It wasn’t gentle. That wasn’t me and Court. It was fire and ice. It was the push and pull. It was teeth and tongue. The fight. The battle. The knockout.
“Oh god,” I groaned against his mouth.
Only to have him reach under my dress and yank my underwear off. He dropped them to the ground, and I stepped out of them, kicking my heels off, too. Then he hoisted me up by my waist, dropping me onto the bathroom counter.
My hands fisted in his button-up, drawing him closer. My legs wrapped around his hips. His hands tangled in my hair. The fight continued with our tongues. A throb cut through my core. A dull roar echoed in my ears. Only this moment existed. The desperate need. The fear of getting caught. The rush of needing him right this fucking second.
My fingers pushed at his belt, undoing it with a dexterity I hadn’t known I possessed. Then his pants, until the only barrier between us was his boxer briefs.
Court wrenched back long enough to release himself. My eyes rounded again. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t dreamed his size. That it was possible that he was as big as the image I’d had of him as I masturbated in my empty penthouse.
He searched out a condom and slid it over his length before positioning himself before me. I could already hear the people outside. A line was forming. I didn’t give two fucks.
“Anna,” he breathed.
But it was the only word he got out before he slid into me, hard and fast. I yelped in surprise and pain and hot, needy pleasure. His hand came to my mouth, silencing me. I knew we had to be quiet. The line outside this room might know what we were doing in here, but there was no reason to announce it to the world.
I buried my fingers in his lush hair and brought his mouth to mine. He kissed me with a vengeance. Almost a punishment for making us wait so long for this again. And fuck, did I want my punishment.
He was at the perfect height to pound into me. Our bodies smacked together. Our chests pressed tight. Not even a seam.
It was quick. It was relentless. It was exactly what I needed and wanted. Even if I shouldn’t want it at all.
I’d been a fool to think otherwise. That I could suppress this want. That I could use brash words to avoid the inevitable. And as he took my pussy as his own, claimed it with a driving force, I knew it truly had been inevitable. After that first time, could I really ever go back?
“Fuck. Oh fuck,” I said low and hushed against his mouth.
“Come for me. I want to watch you come all over my cock.”
His words were filthy. And they triggered something inside of me. My body spasmed, and then I had to bite down on my lip to keep from crying out as I came long and hard.
“Shit,” he groaned, his eyes intent on my face.
My orgasm forced his, and he pulled me tighter to him, so crushing that I could barely breathe, as he finished inside of me.
Someone banged on the door.
We both jumped as if we’d forgotten that we were in the bathroom at Robert’s apartment. That we’d just fucked in a public place and there might be other people waiting outside.
“Are you done in there?” a girl yelled. “Christ!”
“Just a minute,” Court answered like a whip.
The girl didn’t say another word.
He withdrew and tossed the condom as I righted my clothes, pulled my panties back on, and tried desperately to straighten my hair. I didn’t look like myself in that moment. I didn’t look sensible or like a hard-hitting celebrity publicist. I looked like a woman who’d had a quickie in the bathroom. A woman who had been properly fucked.
“Walk confidently out, and no one will say anything,” he told me.