Page 124 of Face Off With Fate

He looked down, his whole chest expanding on a slow breath.

“Fuck.”

He spat directly onto my pussy, the warmth mixing with my arousal.

I gasped, back arching hard off the desk.

Fuck. Why was that so hot?

“You’re dripping.” He groaned, spreading me open with two fingers, thumb finding my clit and circling it.

It was as if I was on fire. Set ablaze not only by his physical ministration, but by the weight of his gaze, looking at me like I was a gift he wanted to carefully unwrap. Something he wanted to treasure.

Emotions kindled between us.

“All this for me?” he asked.

“Always for you.” Only for you. “Please, Josh. I need⁠—”

“I know what you need, baby.” He positioned himself at my entrance, dragging the head of his cock along my slit, and I whimpered. “Spit on it. Make it nice and wet.”

Fuck. His mouth.

I could come just from the filthy things he said. I was convinced of it.

He pulled me upright, and I leaned down, spitting onto the head of his cock, watching the slick shine of it as I stroked him, feeling every ridge and vein beneath my palm.

Monroe hissed, hips snapping forward.

“Good girl.” He pulled me until my ass reached the edge of the desk, hooking my ankles at the small of his back.

He stared at me for a second neither of us moved. The emotion shining in his eyes clogged my throat.

Then he thrust in.

One deep, hard push that filled me completely, the stretch burning, delicious and full.

My head fell back. “Fuck.”

He swallowed my moans, before peppering my throat with kisses.

His hips snapped into a rough rhythm, the desk creaking beneath us.

“Your pussy,” he gritted out, “grips me so fucking tight. Like it was made for me.”

“It was made for you.” The words slipped out. But for once I didn’t regret them.

Something shifted in Josh’s face when I said it. His hand cupped my jaw, thumb brushing my cheekbone. He slowed the pace to something new—something I’d never experienced before with anyone.

“You were made for me, Graciella.”

My eyes stung at the conviction in his tone.

His hand slipped between us, thumb working my clit in tight circles, and I stopped being able to think past the sensation. The pressure built fast and hot in my core, coiling tighter with every stroke.

“Come for me.” His voice was rough. “Soak my cock, Graciella. Let me feel you.”

I shattered.