Beautiful Liar (The Reed Rivers Trilogy #2) - Lauren Rowe Page 0,20

going to get a huge, wet, and incredibly pleasurable surprise. An orgasm like nothing she’s experienced before. And I can’t wait.

I take a deep breath to control my spiraling excitement. “Lean back and relax,” I coo, trying to keep my voice soothing and calm, even though my cock is already seeping with wetness.

Georgina leans back and visibly melts into the harness. “Whoa. This is wild.”

“Comfortable?”

“Very. Although I’ve never felt more like a fly in a web.”

I make another minor adjustment. “You’re not a fly in a web, sweetheart. You’re a butterfly in a net.”

“Oh, well, that’s so much better.”

I stroke her thigh and she shudders with anticipation.

“It is. The spider only wants to destroy the fly. But the butterfly hunter wants to possess and admire the beautiful butterfly.”

“Yeah, and then tack its wings to paper and enclose it in an airtight frame.”

“The price of beauty, baby.” My cock straining and wet, I open her thighs and stroke her slit gently. “You’re about to discover there’s incredible freedom that flows from being trapped like a butterfly in a net. When there’s no option but to lean back and surrender to the pleasure, when there’s nowhere to go, mentally or physically, when you can’t pull away from the intensity of the pleasure you’re experiencing, you’re forced to let go completely and surrender. And it’s in that moment of complete surrender that you’re finally able to experience a new level of pleasure you had no idea existed.”

I begin massaging her clit now, manipulating it firmly, back and forth, and she sighs and coos and sinks deeper into the harness.

“Take deep breaths, in and out,” I instruct. “That’s it. Relax. Don’t fight the pleasure. There’s nowhere to go. So, you might as well embrace it.”

I kneel between her suspended thighs, and get to work on her with my tongue and fingers, and, in no time at all, she’s rocking and jolting in the swing with a powerful orgasm.

Even before she’s come down from her climax, I rise and plunge myself inside her, and Georgina growls ravenously at my delicious invasion. My hands firmly on her hips, I thrust in and out, hard, over and over again, the head of my cock slamming her G-spot without fail. Methodically. Precisely. Mercilessly. And, clearly, she’s rapidly losing her mind.

But I don’t let up.

Not for a second.

I pound her rhythmically, with no variation, until she’s growling and begging me not to stop. I keep fucking her when her eyes roll back into her head. And when she lets out a long, animalistic growl. I fuck her when she’s so wet, each thrust elicits a sloshing noise. And when her innermost muscles begin clenching and unclenching in delicious, rhythmic waves around me. I don’t let up on beautiful Georgina’s G-spot, even when it’s clear she’s been reduced to a feral animal. When her body goes slack and her head lolls to the side and the only sounds out of her sensuous mouth are groans and growls, peppered with my name and shrieks of “yes.”

I fuck Georgina Ricci until she can’t imagine fucking anyone else, ever again. Until I can’t imagine fucking anyone else. Until we’re both sweating and moaning and quaking and on the cusp of literal exhaustion.

I fuck her until, finally, I reach the finish line—the moment when Georgina lets out a scream of ecstasy that’s so primal, so tortured, I know it can only mean I’ve finally hit the motherlode. Two seconds later, every muscle of hers surrounding my cock tightens like a vise around me. She throws her head back into the swing... and creams around my cock. Clearly, she’s having the orgasm of her life. A wet, all-body climax that will change the way she thinks of sex—and her body—forever.

At the sensation of the warm liquid squirting from Georgina’s body all over mine, I feel the most intense pleasure I’ve ever experienced, hands down. It’s better than any drug—which isn’t a figure of speech. My eyelids flutter at the injection of Georgina’s drug into my vein. My eyes roll back. And I come inside her with the force of a rocket. Like I’m seeing God. Like I’m immortal.

As I come down, I crumple over her, quaking and sputtering. And she grips my sweaty hair and babbles incoherently about how amazing that was.

When I’ve caught my breath, I lift my head and gaze at Georgie’s gorgeous face, and what I see there is sheer perfection: my own bliss reflected back at me. I’m on fire. High

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