Wretched (Never After Series)(60)

She comes violently, clenching around me as she cries out, her body collapsing on the table. And then I’m moving to a stand, diving into her mouth so she can taste herself on me, the way I know she loves to do. She groans as we kiss, and her hands roam down my shirt until she grabs my belt and clumsily undoes my slacks. Her feet move up, resting on the waistband and she pushes them down with her toes until my cock bobs free, the head almost purple from how fucking hard I am for her.

Her hand grips me and she strokes from base to tip, making my body jerk into her, arousal racing up my spine. She sucks on my tongue and then breaks away, hopping from the table, spinning around and pushing my chest until I’m the one flat on my back, my dick throbbing as it stands straight up in the air.

Grinning, she grabs her tits, rolling her nipples between her fingers, her eyes rolling back in her head.

“You’re so fucking sexy when you touch yourself,” I pant, stroking my cock while I watch her.

Her lips purse as she spits, saliva dribbling out of her mouth and dripping down, hitting the top of her cleavage, rolling along the curve until it sinks between the valley of her breasts.

Goddamn.

Leaning forward, she wraps them around me, her hands pushing them together as she starts to move her chest up and down.

“Oh, fuck.”

She spits again, this time letting it fall onto the head of my dick, and the feel of it slipping down the side of my shaft while her sticky skin slides up is enough to make my balls tighten.

It’s one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen. She bends her head and sticks out her tongue. My hand grips her jaw and I sit up until her face is beneath me, my cock still wedged in her cleavage. I let my own saliva dribble down until it hits her mouth, and the filthiness of it all turns me on so fucking much I can hardly breathe. I capture her lips with mine, her breath hot and sweet as she moans, moving her breasts to jerk me off. Heat collects at the base of my spine, and I know if I don’t stop, I’ll come all over her tits.

“Tell me again.” I thrust into her.

“Yours.”

Fire blazes through me, dulling everything except the need to get closer. I let go of her face and flip her over until she’s prone beneath me. Fisting my cock, I line up to her entrance, both of us still half-clothed and fucking desperate, and I sink deep inside her, my dick jerking as her walls contract around me.

Shit.

This feels different. This feels like more.

Rough and messy and a thousand different shades of wrong.

But if I’m her calm, then she is my chaos, and if I can’t live with her forever, then I don’t want to live at all.

I capture her lips as I start a punishing rhythm, my hips slapping against hers with every stroke. I feel insane, completely overwhelmed by everything she is, by whatever the hell she’s doing to me. She’s changing me. Or maybe she’s simply making me feel alive.

She arches into me, her nails digging into my skin as she comes apart, the pulses of her cunt making me swell and explode inside her.

My vision goes black and my body gives out as I paint the walls of her pussy, and I collapse on top of her, sweat dripping down the side of my face, my cheek resting against her breast. She runs her fingers through my hair, and I close my eyes, trying to catch my breath while I listen to the rapid beats of her heart.

My body trembles with aftershocks.

“Brayden,” she murmurs.

I freeze, my chest splitting down the middle and falling to the floor.

Brayden.

She’s Brayden’s.

Which means she’ll never be mine.





32





EVELINE





Nobody asked what happened to the vase in the foyer, and I didn’t offer an explanation. But it’s been four days and I’ve been reeling with my emotions ever since. Truthfully, I’ve been cowering away in the cottage, because the next batch of pods are ready for lancing and it’s a perfect excuse to hide from the world and keep my impulses in check.

“Bug.”

My father’s voice rings out through the greenhouse and I pause, taking a deep breath before spinning to face him. I’m glad he’s here. Part of the reason why I’ve been locking myself away is to figure out how to approach the situation, to let him know I’m not okay with expanding. I don’t want to work with the Cantanellis. I don’t crave change the way he seems to need it.

Instead of meeting his eyes, I meet the sparkling browns of Dorothy.

My heart nosedives to the floor, cracking and splitting in two.

How could he bring her here?

I school the look on my face, not wanting her to know it bothers me. The very sight of her makes me rage, and it takes all of my willpower not to take the straightedge from the table and dig it into her eyeballs, so she can never look at me again.

This is my place. My sanctuary. The one spot I had to just be without worrying that others would come and find me.

And my father just ruined that.

The anger creeps in and I close my eyes, counting back from ten.

When I reopen them, I lick my lips. “What is she doing here?”

A large smile beams across her face. “I told you before, didn’t I? Dad’s showing me the ropes.”

“You said you couldn’t handle production,” he chimes in. “Meet your new protégé.”