AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Shall we bet?” Bellamy wonders, his voice nothing more than a growled snippet of words. “How many thrusts will it take before you are ‘done,’ Evelyn? I know. One.”
My heart hammers against my ribcage. Intelligible conversation is a distant concept, but somehow I find a few words to fling in his direction. “Is… that… a… dare—”
He tugs my hair so hard I wince. The pain should snap some sense into me, but it seems to travel right past my brain and down between my legs. He lunges, and I feel out with my free hand to find the curve of the banister as my foot scrambles for the first step.
“Wrong answer,” he tells me, before manually hauling me up another step. Another. “I won’t… even make it inside you… before you scream.”
The promise sets my blood on fire. I will never scream for him. I want to. “Won’t,” I choke out, fighting to hold onto my pride.
“Will.” Three more steps, and we’re in the hallway. Seven more take us into his bedroom. My scalp is on fire, my eyes welling up when he finally lets me go and shoves me backward. I hit the mattress hard, but he’s already mounting me from the edge, his eyes focusing on mine as he knees my legs open.
In one fluid motion, he lunges across the bed for his nightstand and tugs open a drawer. He yanks itout. A few items within bounce across the bedspread—a silver pen, a notepad, a bottle of sleeping medication. He rummages through the remaining contents until he finds what he’s after and promptly withdraws a small, square foil package. Rising on his knees, he tears the condom open with his teeth and rolls it onto his length.
Never. In my life. Have I seen something so… perfect. My body pulses. The ache between my legs turns painful. I need him. I need himnow. I…
A shrill sound pierces the soundtrack of my heartbeat thundering in tune to his. I blink, distracted from the man in front of me. What in the hell?
“Bellamy.” Within the blink of an eye, Mr. Bellamy has his phone to his ear.Mr.I make sure to drill that designation in while my chest heaves to suck in air. This man, for all his looks—and god, his touch—isGraeme Bellamy. World-famous C.E.O. My boss. Or at least he was…
“Ten minutes?” He glances down at his wristwatch and scowls at the priceless face formed of gold and crystal. “You can’t stall any longer?”
Relief hits me so fiercely that my head falls back against the sheets. I can breathe again for a split second, and I use the newfound clarity to scoot away from him and draw my knees together. Saved by the bell. Nothing comes between Graeme Bellamy and his business. Not sex. Not me.Nothing.
“Cancel it—”
“What?” My outburst must mirror that of the person on the other end’s. Bellamy’s eyes narrow in the way they do whenever someone dares to disobey him.
“Cancel it.” He hangs up the phone and tosses it aside. It bounces across the floor and crashes into the wall. By then, he’s crawled toward me on his hands and knees. His fingers sink into my hair again, finding enough leverage to drag me toward him, pinning me down by my skull.
I don’t expect the kiss. Thedevouring. He shoves his tongue into me. Breathes into me. Consumes me. Teeth. Nails. Whatever he can use, he does. I’m already liquid when he finally reaches down and guides himself into his palm. My legs spring apart. My teeth seize his lower lip, and the strip of flesh muffles my gasp as he enters me in a single hard thrust.
I’ve never had anyone like him. Never like this. So damn full. To the brim. I can only arch my back and savor the achingly tight fit. There’s no air left in my chest to make a sound when he flexes his hips, pulling nearly all the way out, before ramming himself back in.
To his credit, it takes more than just one thrust. More like ten, each one intensified by his thumb against my clitoris and his breath in my ear. I feel like a windup toy with my spine as the turn-key. Twisting. Tightening. And then, all at once, the tension snaps, and I come undone.
It’s almost as if he waits until I do. Right until my body clenches over him like a fist. Then he moves. Harsher. Faster. Rougher. Growling. Grunting. We cease to communicate in words—just motion. Every wicked thrust. Each lash of his tongue at the crook of my throat. My nails in his shoulders, raking down and straining the expensive fabric of his suit.
It’s too much. I thrash. Whine.
And then, with one last thrust, he throws his head back, and the sight of him bellowing out his release is the most breathtaking thing I’ve ever seen.
Perfect.
If only the bastard didn’t look so damn triumphant as my vision went hazy, and I quickly followed suit.
* * *
He is already bending to snatch his pants from the floor while I struggle to find meaning in my once-content existence. Every muscle in my body throbs beneath a layer of sweat. The silken sheets chafe—my skin is that damn sensitive.
Every pore is alight, every nerve stretched thin. And god, it all feels so damn delicious…
Snap out of it, Evie.Focus. I’m in the bed of the enemy. The enemy who certainly knew his way around said bed. I wish I could have had only one lapse of judgment to explain my presence here. But one had turned into…
I’d lost count.
“Where is your bag?” I glance up to find him fishing one of his oxfords from the floor. He frowns and tugs it on before hunting for the other and his phone. “Your bag, Evelyn,” he snaps when nearly a minute passes and I don’t answer. “Where is it?”
“I… downstairs?”
