Page 123 of Wild Embers
A crease forms between Blake’s brows as she chants, begging for more.
Once I’m completely seated inside her channel, I clench my jaw, holding my release back. I haven’t been on the verge of a climax this quickly since I was a teenager.
Moving my hips back, I almost pull all the way out, leaving just the tip inside. Then abruptly, I snap my hip forward, filling her.
“Good God, Walker,” Blake pants.
“Hold on to something,” I warn her.
Blake scrambles to grip the edge of the table, then I pull back again and pump again.
I pump in and out.
In and out.
The conference table rocks, creaking with the pace I set. I repeat my motions, holding back my release.
My Baby Girl comes first.
A drop of sweat trickles down from my temple, exertion and pleasure stealing my breath.
I use one hand to cup her breast, twisting and plucking her turgid peak, forcing her to ride that line between pain and pleasure.
“You need to tell me now, Blake. Am I pulling out or coming inside you?”
“Inside me.” Her answer is immediate. “I take the pill.”
“Fuck yes,” I breathe out.
Her pussy clamps down on my shaft unexpectedly, her orgasm hitting her without warning. She opens her mouth to scream, and I cover her sounds with my hand.
The next squeeze of her channel, thrusts me into the blissful high of my own climax, her pussy milking my cock dry. My orgasm feels as if it goes on forever.
Coming down from the high, I rest my forehead against hers. Neither of us utters a word, basking in the glow.
Placing my lips to hers one more time, I stand up straight and pull up my pants. I don’t care that my dick is covered in our mess.
Blake snaps her bra in the back and searches for her sweater.
Snagging her panties off the floor, I slide her legs in and bring them up to her hips.
Blake squirms. “I need to clean up.”
“Leave it,” I command. My hand covers her pussy possessively. “I want you to remember.”
She slaps my arm half-heartedly. “You dirty man.”
We turn away from each other, searching the room for the remainder of our clothing. Blake flings my shirt in my direction, and I throw her leggings to her.
Reaching for my belt, my hand freezes, hovering in the air.
The light reflects off the polished brass.
My chain and my freedom.
My responsibility to this town.
My badge.
