Page 49 of The Escort


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Lost in his eyes, I shudder. His fingers slip between my legs, brushing through my wetness.

“Here?” His thumb runs over my clit.

My knees slacken. His hip presses into my side. The hardness of his cock hits my naked skin, sending shivers of impulsive need all through me.

His thumb rubs over my nub again. He tugs on my hair. “Right here.” He feathers over my sensitive flesh with precise precision.

“Y-yes,” I stutter, gasping for air and fighting for control. I peer up into his heavy, demanding eyes. “Right there.”

“Fuck.” His jawline darkens, enhancing the undeniable desire on his face. “You know what I want?”

I drag in a breath. My body is failing me. “Please release me,” I say, unable to cut the need from my voice.

“I want to fuck you,” he says, thrusting a finger deep inside my pussy. “I want to fuck you hard.” Then he withdraws and pushes back in. “I want to fuck you fast.” He penetrates me with two fingers. “I want to fuck you until you’re screaming.”

“Oh no!” My head drops back. The image of his words scorches through me.

“Yes.” He tugs my hair. “Look at me, Chosen. I want to watch you watch me when I make you come.”

“I-I...” My eyes flutter, unable to hold back any longer. “Oh God! I’m going to come.” I open my eyes. All I see is him. All I feel is him. All I want is him. My body gyrates with his. I convulse and lose all my senses to the pulsating heat burning me to my feet.

“Yeah, that’s it.” He kisses me. “I see you, baby.”

The intensity of the orgasm weakens me. Finally, I collapse into his hold, trying to catch my breath and return to reality.

He brushes my hair from my face, tipping my head up. Our eyes meet. I see him as well.

And, oh, we’re going to fuck. I need him now.

I grab his wet shirt, yank it over his head, and toss it to the floor. I reach for the button on his jeans. Nothing could stop me from stripping him naked and taking him to my bedroom. To return what he just gave me.

Nothing!

The glint of his necklace catches my eye.

My fingers freeze on his jeans. My frantic hands reach up to pinch the gold cross resting against the enclave of his chest.

“Where did you get this?” My eyes flash to his. Confusion rolls in my belly, making me nauseous.

He looks down, then back up. “Reacher.”

I tilt my head and study him for a second, trying to understand what he said while swallowing back the churning bile rising to my throat. I scoop my T-shirt from the floor, yank it on, and pull the hair from the neck.

“Reacher?” Goose bumps race over my skin. “The man who saved you from The Kraken? From the underground fights?”

His eyebrows dip inward. “Yeah.”

Unsure if I want to know the answer, I ask it anyway. “Why did he give it to you?”

He pushes the beads of sweat from his head with his forearm. “I don’t know.”

“Tell me what happened. When he gave it to you.” This can’t be right. It can’t be true! Was I wrong all this time?

Lix stares at me for a moment, confusion thickening his expression.

“When he gave it to you, how old were you?”

He focuses on my eyes. “Thirteen,” he finally replies.

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