Page 144 of Cozen

Sargon’s hand pushed firmly into her stomach, keeping her down on the desk while his other grabbed firmly to her outer thigh so he could yank her into every thrust. Her legs hooked around his hips, and she met him for every brutal flex of his hips. She needed him to be rough with her—needed him to control, and pin her down.

She liked that the very best.

So hard.

So deep.

He stretched her damn good, and filled her like no one else ever could. She hadn’t looked fucked before, but she certainly would now.

“Christ, you look so good taking my cock,” she heard him say. “You take me so fucking well, Zen.”

“Only you.”

Her hand dipped between her thighs to feel him filling her. Every beat of his heart pulsed in the veins of his dick, and against her fingertips. He was slicked up with her wetness, and thick between her fingers. He’d pull out all the way to the tip, and then fill her up just as fast all over again. Feeling him fucking her was the next best thing to watching him fuck her.

She was convinced of it.

“Play—I want to see you play, sweetheart.”

Cozen did with fast, tight circles over her clit aided in his thrusts. Seeing the way he watched her play with her pussy while he fucked her was an intoxicating sight. His muscles tightened and flexed beneath the silk shirt he wore, and his teeth bared when she started to shudder.

“Right there,” she breathed.

Fuck yeah.

Her orgasm came on quick—like ice water pooling down her spine and freezing her in place while heat shot through every other one of her nerve endings. A strange, yet beautiful, burst of colors behind her clenched eyelids.

“Oh, my God,” Cozen mumbled.

“Fuck,” she heard him snarl.

She opened her eyes back up at his harsh grunt. He brought her in hard against his dick—all the way to the hilt—as the last of her orgasm slipped through her veins, and emptied himself as deep into her pussy as he could get. She reached for him then as he pulled from her body—his loss was palpable. Pulling him in close, she found his lips with her own.

Another searing kiss.

A goodbye of sorts, this time.

For now.

“You messed me up so bad this time,” she said, repeating her earlier sentiment.

She needed him to know.

To understand.

Sargon nodded. “And I would do it again if it meant finding you, and having you, Zen. Do I, though?”

“Hmm?”

“Have you?”

She reached for the glass of whiskey on the desk instead of answering him. She shouldn’t need to answer.

He should know.

“Drink,” she told him.

Sargon eyed the glass. “Zen—”