“Is this how I fuck you in your fantasies?” Beau grates out, bucking and shuddering behind me.
“No, this is so much better,” I murmur, completely drunk on him. “So much fucking better.”
He plunges into my sloshing depths over and over, stoking the raging vortex churning within me.
“Oh God!” I scream, translucent fluid gushing from my urethra.
Beau lies flush against my back. “Sweet Peach, that peach is so fucking sweet.”
My legs turn to jelly, his enormous body keeping me upright as he continues to ravish me. Fast stroke, slow stroke, side stroke. Repeat.
“I’m about to come,” Beau whispers, kissing and nipping the space just below my ear.
“Pull out,” I pant.
“I can’t do that.” He runs his nose along my cheek. “That would be a disservice to your pussy,” Beau shouts, wildly battering into my quivering channel.
I climax again, my pussy walls clamping down hard on his pillaging cock. He comes and comes and comes, filling me to overflowing. Rich, creamy semen seeps from where our bodies meet and drips onto the linoleum tile. Beau slips out of me and heaves my listless body over a broad shoulder then makes his way to my bedroom. I’m too tired and sated to protest or notice that he knows exactly where my bedroom is. He deposits me on the bed. The cool, crisp sheets are heaven on my hot flesh. Beau undresses us then angles himself above me.
“I’m going to tear this pussy up all fucking day,” he proclaims, easing into my sore passage.
Soft purring penetrates my muddled brain, though it takes a few minutes to become fully alert.Jesus, it feels like a gang of tap dancers used my body for practice.Everything hurts. I blink open my gritty eyes and there’s the orange devil lounging on my chest, blinking those soulful, amber orbs at me. She releases a long, drawn-out meow. Translation: About damn time you’re awake hooman. I’m fluent in cat talk.
“Yeah, yeah,” I gripe, placing her beside me. “Give me some breathing room, you infernal feline.”
I jackknife into a sitting position and Her Highness scurries off the bed, startled by the sudden movement.
Beau.
Where is he? I spot my clothing strewn across the dark cream-colored carpet, interspersed between the sheets, comforter, and pillows, but his are noticeably missing. We fucked the mattress bare. Flashbacks filter through my mind and though my pussy aches, my libido doesn’t give a fuck. Beau said he was going to bend me into a pretzel and bend me he did. That man had me in positions I didn’t even know were humanly possible. My sex and inner thighs are covered in dry cum. I moan, lightly skimming my fingertips along my throbbing slit.What if he’s still here?I hold my breath and listen. I don’t hear any telltale sounds or movements.
“Beau?” I yell, my heart beating erratically beneath my breastbone. “Are you still here?”
No answer. My womanly pride crumbles a bit. Okay, more than a bit, but it’s better this way. What happened was a colossal mistake that can’t be repeated. I scan every surface in my room, searching for my cell phone.
“Where the heck is it?” I sigh impatiently.
Must’ve left it downstairs somewhere. I’m anxious to check my emails. Gene seems to be a kind and understanding individual. There’s a good chance he’ll let me break the lease. I throw on a T-shirt and panties then head downstairs. I spot my purse on the sofa.
“Lulu? Where are you?” I call out, retrieving my mobile from the faux-fur handbag. “Come on, don’t be a big baby. I didn’t mean to scare you. Punk,” I mutter under my breath.
My eyes bulge at the time.
7a.m.!
What. In. The. Actual. Fuck?!
We were banging for twenty-four hours straight. Well, of course we slept and took bathroom breaks between fuck sessions. I remember Beau cleaning me up and bringing me water several times. He even fed Lulu for me. I was too depleted to do much of anything. Needing coffee, I pad into the kitchen and my gaze immediately lands on the spatula a.k.a. impromptu dildo. I cringe, embarrassment scorching my cheeks.
“I really allowed myself to get railed in the ass with a cooking utensil.” I toss it into the garbage can. “I’ll never look at spatulas the same way again.”
But hell, it felt goddamn wonderful.
“I went to Jasper’s and got us some breakfast,” Beau announces, striding into the kitchen. “Wasn’t sure what you liked, so I ordered a variety—pancakes, waffles, bacon, sausage, scrapple, home fries, grits, and scrambled eggs with cheese.” He drops two overstuffed brown paper bags on the island. “Forgot to grab something to drink, though. Do you have orange juice? Apple juice is good too.”
I stand there, dumbstruck, while he unloads the bags. He’s freshly showered. And, my goodness, that fitted tank top does his muscular physique justice. The fabric molds to every hard curve. My enamored gaze zeroes in on the thick veins running in rivulets down his ripped arms. I never considered veins sexy before him. The vessels ebbed and flowed as he held himself above me, pounding between my thighs.
Stop it! You have to get him out of here.
