AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Just imagine my lips soothing you,” he purrs as he heads with me toward the bedroom, his feet leaving wet traces on the tiles and the carpet. “My tongue running over your clit, pushing inside your pussy, stroking away the soreness that my vile, insatiable cock left inside you.”
I let loose an involuntary sigh, his words and his voice doing things to me that only illegal substances could. When he lays me down on the bed, folding the duvet sides over my body to dry me off, my eyes fall to his cock. The vile, insatiable one that’s as ready to take me as it was last night. I passed out while he fucked me, and he still hasn’t had enough.
He parts my thighs with gentle hands, causing them to fall apart so that my sore pussy is exposed to him. When his eyes lower to look at it closely, shame fires up my spine. I wriggle, trying to close my thighs, but he grips my knees and pushes them down.
“Please, this is a bad idea,” I croak, but Zayne won’t have it. He crawls over me on his hands, his scarred, muscular body mouthwatering.
His face hovers right over mine, his eyes running all over my features.
They are on my lips, his face lowering until his mouth brushes mine. I tip up my chin without even thinking, seeking his lips. Thirsty for them, eager to feel them.
His kiss is sweet at first, careful, as if not sure whether the taste of me is going to poison him or not. And then, like a man who’s tasted sugar for the first time, he becomes more and more forceful until he’s devouring my mouth, my hands traveling up those corded arms towards his bulging shoulders. Soon our kiss is a symphony of hedonic moans as I pull him closer, my body undulating to meet his, wanting to feel him all over me, to have every inch of my skin covered with his.
A frustrated sound comes out of his chest when he pulls away from my lips. My initial grunt of protest morphs into a sigh of approval as his lips trace my jaw and then leave a lustful trail down my neck and chest. I arch my body, offering him my breasts to ravish and devour. It seems to be an effort for him to break away from my tits and plant a trail of sensual kisses down the line of my abdomen. Then, raising my knees and lodging his shoulders beneath the backs of my thighs, he smiles up at me. His eyes aren’t as playful, though. They’re alive with the prospect of feasting on something he’s been craving for a long time.
“Keep your eyes on me, wild flame,” he rumbles, his voice thick with appetite. “Watch the bastard who used you worship the pussy he exploited.”
With that, he parts the lips of my pussy with his fingers, and his mouth melts into it. He dives in with long, hedonic strokes that have my back arching up from the mattress, my fists gripping the sheets. I’m convinced Zayne Thorngren truly is a sex demon sent from hell to ruin me because no human man should be able to eat pussy like this. It feels like a curse and a blessing at the same time.
“Grab my hair,” he commands hotly against my soaked flesh, two fingers keeping me exposed like I’m his dirty plaything. “Ride my face, and make it rough and messy. Give me what I deserve.”
I lose my mind at the invitation. Fisting my hands in his rich black hair, I anchor my heels into the mattress and lift my pussy to rub it against his face. He lets it happen, his hands gripping my ass, parting the cheeks to expose me more. I don’t have a fucking idea why, but the dirtier he makes this feel, the crazier I go with sensuous need.
“One of these days, I’ll do this to you while having you tied up and helpless,” I blurt out, barely recognizing my own voice.
I can feel him grin against my pussy, his blue eyes fixed on my face, watching how my features distort from the pleasure he gives me. Yet another way for him to exert power. The sounds I make turn more aggressive as I writhe against his mouth, desperate for a sensation of penetration. Understanding what I need, he pushes his tongue inside of me, fucking me with it, only to withdraw and lick broadly.
Damn, the bastard is good.
Heat floods my veins, my skin flushed. My fingers claw harder into his hair, my heels digging into the mattress, my tight breasts bouncing while I roll and gyrate. I come like a she-demon on a sinner’s face, my sounds of pleasure long and unrestrained. His own vibrate into my pussy, sending electricity and goosebumps all over me. And, just like last night, the satisfaction stretches over long moments that could be anything from seconds to minutes. I can’t tell because I lost all sense of place and time.
I slowly regain my awareness of it when, after I’ve collapsed onto the mattress, spent and heaving, there’s a soft, careful knock on the door. My head whips up.
“Breakfast.” Zayne grins, wiping his glistening mouth with the back of his hand.
The mattress bounces up when he lifts his weight off of it, heading towards the door.
“Wait, you can’t open the door looking like that.” If my voice weren’t so hoarse, I’d shriek.
“Why not? Everybody knows that we’re here together. At least all of your employees do.” We’re together. Damn, I like it a little too much when the bastard says that.
“Yes, but what if it’s a girl?” I ransack my brain for who’s on the breakfast shift today but said brain is perfectly scrambled.
Zayne’s hand is now on the doorknob, my eyes flying from it to his face and back again. A smug expression relaxes his handsome face.
“Look at you, becoming territorial after two days.”
It’s so strange to think it was just two days. It feels like a tank has been thoroughly fucking me for months, my body a wreck.
“Please, at least cover your dick.”
“As you wish, mistress.”
With a grin, he picks up a discarded towel off the back of a chair at the round breakfast table and lets it fall like a veil over his erect cock. I swallow, wondering how he’s gonna unload it if he won’t fuck me.
Before I get to protest again, he turns the knob and steps out of the way to allow the cart in.
Pulling the duvet over my naked body, I watch Augustino, Marco’s younger brother, enter the room behind the breakfast cart he’s pushed inside. Tension marks every line of his young, still-pimpled face. He’s only nineteen, and Marco all but begged me to hire him to keep the kid off the streets. Of course, I couldn’t miss the opportunity to flex, so I agreed. And I kind of like the kid, too. He’s reliable and respectful, so I feel sorry for him now that he’s being put in this situation.
