Page 23 of Wicked Little Lies


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I finish the drink and toss the tumbler to the rug. Then I wrap a hand around her throat and walk her back into the wall. “You’re fucking lucky I’ve got feelings for you, otherwise I might be inclined to punish. Where the fuck’s my necklace?”

“I don’t know. I hid it, but I don’t know where.”

“Convenient.”

“Not really. And feelings?”

“Feelings.”

We’re close, too close, because beneath the expensive subtle scents of the hotel’s amenities, I can smell her skin. The slight hint of spice. And it makes me hard.

Her pupils dilate and beneath my fingers the blood pounds in her jugular.

She raises her head. “Are you going to fuck me, Hendrick?”

“Tempting.” I slide my thigh between hers, and she lets out a soft little moan that undoes parts of me. My dick jerks, painfully hard and erect. Every spark of electricity from my nerves urges me to sink into her tight, heated depths. Take her rough, hard, now.

“Dick not working right?”

I slide my hand past the drawstring of her pants where she’s wet, sans panties. “It works. Who’s to say I haven’t been jackhammering away.”

“Breaking ground?”

“Going deep into the fucking bedrock.”

“Just the one piece of ground, Hendrick?”

I move the hand around her throat and lick a slow path along her skin, up to her ear. “Or maybe I’ve taken some time off from hardcore construction.”

“I’m handy operating the jackhammer.” She gasps, and I bite her ear, working two fingers past the wet, smooth lips of her cunt. I thrust into her.

“And I like hot, wet holes to fill.”

Her hands are on me, squeezing my cock as I thumb her clit, keeping up the hard thrusts into her, making sure I hit her G-spot every time.

She starts to move her hips, and I take her mouth, deliberately kissing her hard to bring an edge to it from the slight swell of the bruise that reaches her lips. Cat hisses, and moans, melting as I do it again. Then I soften the kiss, drawing her tongue out in a slow dance until she’s teetering, lost, her body starting to lose control. I pull away and turn. “Knees, now.”

There’s a feral element to her smile. We both know her safe word. One she’s never used. “Or what?”

“Or I’ll fucking take that ass dry with as much of my hand up your cunt as I can fit.”

I swear to fucking god, she twitches like she just had a mini orgasm.

“On your fucking knees, Cat, and swallow my cock. You have two minutes to make me come.”

“That long?”

“Make it one.” I look at my watch. “Starting now.”

“Or what?”

“You don’t want to fucking know.”

Magdalena drops. She has my pants open in moment, and her groan at the hard girth of me is pure fucking music. The filthiest of lyrics.

She takes me in, stretching her lips to suck me down to the back of her throat. I don’t help her.

She has forty-five seconds to make me cum. I don’t think she can do it even if she is fucking magic.

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