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“But—”
I pursed my lips as I looked up at him. Even in the dim light, his green eyes shone as if they were lit from within. “You’ve seen my file,” I chuckled. “It’s fine. I’m not on the drugs yet. There’s zero chance, Dr. Brady.”
“Dr. Brady.” The laugh that came from him was sinister. His smile morphed into a smirk as he adjusted himself, pressing his tip against my entrance. “Does it turn you on to call me that, angel? Does it excite you?” He forced my legs higher, almost touching my chest, with the forearm of one hand. “Does it make you want me even more?”
My cheeks warmed as he pressed in, just an inch, letting me adjust to his girth. He was big, no denying that.
“Answer me, Sophia, or this will be as far as I go.”
Sadistic motherfucker. My mind was blank as I searched for an answer. Does it turn me on to say it? Do I like referring to him as Dr. Brady? Is that why I hadn’t stopped? “I…”
I was going to kill him. When the sun finally rose and things were back to normal, I was going to fucking kill him. “Yes,” I admitted, my voice no louder than a whisper.
I gasped as he thrust his full length inside, sinking in until almost nothing was left. My walls stretched to accommodate him, the sting almost heavenly, and as he leaned down to whisper into my ear, I think I left my body entirely. “Good girl.”
Oh my god. I wanted to hate him. I wanted to hate him so badly, wanted to tell myself you know better, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. I buried the back of my head in the sheets as he slowly slid out, just a hint of him left, before plunging back in with enough force to make me see stars.
And then it began.
Rough, needy, and desperate, he fucked me. His cock curved upward just a hair, hitting that spot inside of me that made me feel like my world was imploding. Every inch of my skin crawled with pleasure, deep and unbridled. I moaned, jerking my head back farther, and his lips explored the sensitive spots of my neck as if I’d given them to him on a silver platter.
“You take me so fucking well,” he grunted, his teeth grazing across my skin. “I could live inside of you. So goddamn perfect…”
His words echoed around in my head, making my gut knot with tension. Already, I could feel my orgasm building, but I knew his length alone wouldn’t be enough to tip me over the edge. I needed more. “Hudson?—”
“Touch yourself, angel. I can’t reach you like this.” Could he read my mind?
I nodded as I snaked my hand between us, my fingers crawling across my own skin. I sank them between my lips, the slickness pooling far more than usual. The base of his cock brushed against my fingertips as I began to circle my clit, little movements growing more frantic, more ecstatic. I was building, my walls clenching and gripping him for dear life.
Hudson gritted his teeth as he lifted his head, staring straight down at me. His eyes were wild, ferocious behind half-lowered lids. “Watch me fuck you as you come for me,” he growled, his voice far deeper than I’d heard before. “Watch how perfectly you take my cock.”
He lifted my hips higher, putting them well within view. It was as if his words held power. I couldn’t stop myself from looking between us, down to where our bodies met and my hand twitched. God, he was right. We fit together too well.
“Hudson.” My breathing was growing choppy. Each little inhale felt like a want, not a need, and the pressure growing was reaching its breaking point. “Fuck, oh my god?—”
Everything shattered at once. The moan that ripped from my throat felt like it wasn’t my own, and a euphoric bliss overwhelmed my senses, flooding me and drowning me, wrecking me far more than I was used to. I ripped my hand away, suddenly too sensitive, and tried desperately to catch my breath as Hudson’s arms wrapped around me, holding my damp, electrified body to his. It was too much. But it was perfect.
“Breathe, Sophia.”
His movements slowed, still firm but calmer, and those arms held me tightly as he rolled us onto the other side of the bed, flipping me on top of him. I saddled him, my mind lost to the haze, and his hips did the work for me until I could do it on my own. “Holy shit,” I breathed, sinking further down on him than I thought I could.
He smirked as he shifted us higher, his back resting against the headboard in a curve. “You felt like heaven as you came,” he grunted, his cock twitching inside of me. “You’re going to do it again.”
Twice? “I… I don’t know if I can.” Slowly, I rocked my hips, my clit brushing against the little tuft of hair above his cock. It was enough to make my body twitch.
“You can,” he said calmly. He wrapped one hand around the back of my neck, pulling me closer to him as the other buried itself between our conjoined hips, his fingers curling up to meet the overly-sensitive bundle of nerves. I cried out, feeling far too much, but he held me in place. “You will.”
His mouth met mine as we moved in unison, my hips stuttering from the intensity, and I used my newly freed-up hands to explore every inch of him that I could. His chest, his arms, his neck. Each teeming with corded muscles, flexed from his efforts down below. Slowly, that tension began to build again, making it too hard to concentrate on the movements of my hips. It was choppy, rushed, anguished, but he kept me as steady as he could.
Briefly, I wondered if I’d be able to see myself fucking him in the reflection of my bedroom window.
“Fuck, I’m close,” he grunted, growing impossibly harder inside of me. His fingers moved quicker, dragging me closer with him, those deft little movements planting themselves in my mind so I could fantasize about it later. “Don’t fucking stop, angel.”
I buried my head in the crook of his neck, focusing as hard as I could on my rocking despite the rush of delirium. His groans turned darker, more intense as he tightened his grip on the back of my neck. “Hudson,” I whispered, the pressure beginning to break, leaking out of me and coating his cock, his fingers.
His hips sputtered, breaking our controlled movements, but his fingers kept their pace with insane precision as his orgasm spread through him. Just knowing he had come was enough to send me over the edge, the idea of him filling me and the warmth spreading inside making the second orgasm more intense than the last.
Nothing mattered anymore—not my boundaries or his, not our working relationship or the idea of some fake engagement. All that mattered was the pleasure rocketing through my veins, his deep cries of ecstasy, and the way he held me to him as if he never wanted me to leave.
