The half a million-dollar set of diamonds glitters around her neck as she pulls back, leaving a thin string of salvia between her lips and the swollen head of my cock.
“Fuck, yeah.”
I push her back onto my dick, my eyes roaming between her lips wrapped around me, her eyes shining up at me, and my diamonds around her neck.
She couldn’t look more like mine if I tattooed my name across those magnificent tits of hers and put them on a billboard in Times Square.
“That’s it, Baby,” I growl, jutting my hips, fucking her mouth in time with her eager sucks.
I reach down and pull my pants out of the way, freeing my balls to hit her chin as she gags.
“Such a good little cock sucker,” I croon, stroking her cheek as her eyes water. “You know mine’s the only one you’ll ever taste again?” I thrust faster, my balls tightening with the need to release.
“I’m never letting you go, Tate,” I growl, holding her gaze. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? You want to be mine?”
She chokes on my cock, looking up at me with pleading eyes as she nods.
“Good girl.” I thrust deeper. “Good fucking girl.”
The first spurt spills over her tongue and I drawback, pulling free of her mouth while I still have the self-control to do so.
“Chin up, Baby,” I groan as cum shoots out of the head of my dick, plastering thick, shining ropes over her tits.
She gasps as I point my cock higher, shooting across the diamond choker with a satisfied grunt.
The stones glitter and shine as my cum drips over them, running over her collarbone.
“You’re not going to wash it off your tits, Baby. You’re going to wear me beneath your dress tonight so you remember whose girl you are.”
“Yes,” she whimpers, gazing up at me as I squeeze the final drops out onto the crown of my dick.
“Open.”
She complies and I wipe the head of my cock over her tongue.
“Now swallow.”
Her eyes spark with arousal and her throat contracts, drinking me down.
I don’t need to tattoo my name on her. She’s wearing me all over her. From the cum on her skin, to the spark in her eyes when she looks at me.
I run my thumb over her lower lip. “You’re mine, Tate. Say it.”
“I’m yours,” she breathes.
My eyes burn into hers.
“I’m keeping you, Baby,” I say, allowing the careless promise to slip past my lips.
Even though I fear the day is rapidly approaching where I must break it.
32
TATE
The wind whipsaround us as we cut across the water of the Hudson like a hot knife on butter. Sullivan commands the sleek speedboat like he was born to do it.
“I can’t believe you never mentioned you have a boat. Do you have any others? Slower ones?”
