Page 127 of Effortless

Tom was already using his other hand to undo his pants while the fingers still stuffed up her pussy massaged her G-spot through the orgasm. Her sweet juices slicked up his hand, and the scent of sex clung in the air.

He removed his hand from between Camilla’s thighs because he would need two for his next task. Camilla read his mind before he could even reach for the item in his pocket.

“Don’t,” she said, letting go of the ledge long enough to grasp his wrist. “I’m on the shot—we don’t need condoms.”

“You sure?” Tom leaned over her a bit to kiss her cheek, and he felt her smile grow. “Because it’s fine, Cam.”

“I might like the feeling of you coming inside me, Tom. Actually there, you know? Wouldn’t it make you hot to think about your cum in my pussy when we go back downstairs to dance?”

His thick groan echoed back to his own ears.

Heady.

Loud.

Raw.

“Fuck me, Tom,” he heard her say.

Christ.

He couldn’t get his slacks down fast enough, or his cock out into his hand quick enough for his needs. He kissed over her shoulder, and the back of her neck, and he fitted himself in behind her. Already hard as hell—painfully so—sliding into her warm, tight channel was heaven to him.

The sweetest relief slipped through his bloodstream with that first thrust.

Like he found home and happiness there.

Sin and love.

A hunger thudded in his ribcage right along with his heartbeat. A deep bass that matched the sounds pumping down on the club’s floor. People moved below them while Tom grabbed both of Camilla’s hips, and yanked her back into him. Over and over again.

Flashing lights on the ceiling helped to light up the fireworks already starting to burst in his eyes. Camilla’s loud cries melted into the music, and drowned in his ears.

The harder he fucked her, the louder she moaned. The deeper his thrusts came, the more she begged.

This woman was everything to Tom.

Everything perfect.

Everything beautiful.

“Whose slut are you, Camilla?” he asked in her ear.

That sinful, sly smile curved her lips.

“Yours, Tom.”

“And don’t fucking forget it, babe.”

It wasn’t long before she was coming a second time. Tom let go of her right hip to fist a hand in her hair. He tugged Camilla’s head back as she shouted his name through her orgasm.

“Beg for my cum, Cam. Tell me how badly you want it. Beg me for it.”

She did.

Loud.

Repeatedly.