Page 44 of Obsessed Mr. O’Brian

My gasp and his moan create the most erotic duo I’ve ever heard. His hot, calloused palm compresses my nipple. He squeezes, strokes, and flicks. My clit pulses and thighs shake as every inch of me responds to his touch.

As he rolls my nipple between his fingers, he cups my chin and cranes my neck back until his lips hover over mine.

Held stretched and at his whim, I tremble on the edge of bliss. Controlled by his mesmerizing touch, I breathe in his tantalizing scent and quake in anticipation of his lips on mine.

“You’re burning me alive, angel. I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop if I kiss you,” he growls.

Only one concern sneaks in through my lust.

“What about Lola?”

“She’s asleep. Nikki is with her,” he says with a flick of his tongue over the corner of my mouth.

I release my skirt and hook a hand over his nape. The movement pushes my breast into his hand and grinds my backside harder against his dick.

“Not all the way. Not here,” I breathe.

“Fucking hell, Millie, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he snarls.

He captures my lips with his and dives deeper. My head reels from the hot, silky glide of his tongue over mine as he invades, explores, and dominates every inch of my mouth. He plucks my nipple and kneads my breast with growing urgency as I pour my hunger into our kiss, savoring the raw desire between our dueling tongues. Pressure builds between my legs when he slips his hand from my chin to my throat and flexes his fingertips against my jugular, just enough to build my sense of helplessness but not enough to aggravate my bruises.

I grind back against him, uncaring about the pain of my bruises with my insides so heavy and empty.

He pulls my breast out of my dress by the nipple and swallows my yip of surprise. The sting arrows straight to my clit.

As he bares my other breast and cups the underside, I marvel at the silky strands of his hair before sinking my nails into his nape.

He growls and releases my throat. I whimper in disappointment until he reaches through the slit in my skirt and grabs my thigh. His long, thick fingers tighten on my leg and the underside of my breast. He coaxes me to explore his mouth with teasing flicks of his tongue as he shuffles us forward.

I gasp as he presses my cupped breast against the cold mirror. He slips his hand from my thigh to my sex and squeezes me through my panties as we moan. With diabolical ease, he slips his fingers under the gusset of my underwear and finds my clit.

I squeak, squirm, and grab his wrist at the overwhelming intensity. He growls and nips my lip before sealing his mouth over mine again. I struggle to breathe as he circles, strokes, and flicks the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Pressure grows between my legs. My entire body strains for relief. He fondles my breast, his hand scorching hot on my chilled flesh. When he pinches my nipple and fits his fingers along my drenched slit, I teeter at the precipice.

He lifts his head and steals my soul with sparkling golden orbs.

“Holy hell, you’re so fucking wet. You’re right there, aren’t you, my angel?

I nod and tear at his wrist and nape.

His smirk tips me closer to the edge. He dips his head and whispers against my lips.

“Come for me, Millie.” He pushes two digits inside me. The sudden sense of fullness steals my breath and scrambles my brain. “Come all over my fingers.” He pulls out. Pushes in. A whine builds in my throat as the pressure becomes unbearable. “So fucking tight.” He groans against my lips as he spears his fingers deep inside me and slips his thumb to my clit. My entire lower half tightens. “Drench my hand. Now.” In one wonderfully disastrous moment, he curls his fingers inside me, flicks my clit with his thumb, and twists my nipple. All the sensations coalesce and erupt from the very center of my being, and as I combust, he snarls a curse and captures my mouth with his.

His evil digits begin moving before the first explosion ends, and I launch into a terrifying rollercoaster with endless steep climbs and sharp drops.

He feasts on my screams as I shatter around his relentless fingers over and over again.

The world fades away. Time ceases to exist. He becomes the past, present, and future. I’m nothing without him. He’s my puppet master. My one and only. My forever.

Artur O’Brian takes my first, second, third, fourth, and so many more orgasms I lose count.

I want to give him all the rest, too. I’ll never be this intimate with any other man.

Except he doesn’t know the real me. He doesn’t know I’m the problem. Everything is my fault. Once he learns the truth, he’ll hate me and leave again.

I’d better make the most out of this opportunity as I can. I want to give him the same pleasure he gave me… if he ever lets me come up for air.