Boss in the Bedsheets - Kate Canterbary Page 0,69

half the things she deserved.

"Zelda," I said, tapping my cock against her clit. "You'll come when I'm good and ready to let you."

"Oh my god," she breathed, her hands still on her face and her body tightening like a bow stretch back before shooting.

I filled her with one merciless thrust and that was enough to make me dizzy, make me delirious. By the time I banded my arm over her legs and slammed into that honeyed heat again, I was already thinking about the next time and the time after that and all the other times I'd push inside this cunt and know it was under my care.

"You're gorgeous when you're wet and desperate." I traced her swollen petals where they clung to my shaft, where she stretched around me. I couldn't look away. I'd never seen anything as perfect, as right. "Fucking gorgeous. You make me want to tear this condom off and spill all over you."

Zelda hummed in agreement as she met my thrusts as best she could in this position, asking, "Is that all you want?"

I didn't even have to think about it. "Not hardly," I said, speeding up because I couldn't slow down. Couldn't draw this out, couldn't wait to feel her coming on me. "I want to tear it off and spill inside you. Want you bare, want nothing between us." My skin was too tight and my bones were hollow, and I was breaking, just fucking shattering under the strain of holding out. "It's not like I can protect myself from you, Zelda. I haven't for a single minute so why shouldn't I fuck you raw? Why shouldn't I give you everything I have and then take everything you give me in return?"

There was the deep part of the lake and then there was the dark part. It was just as vast and powerful as the deep but it lacked all the clarity. It wasn't enough to be careful here because the darkness made it impossible to know when I was upside down, right side up, or drifting off into the abyss. I had to know what I was doing if I wanted to dive in these waters—and I wasn't sure I knew anything. Not when my words were dangerously close to crossing the line from dirty talk into real, guttural urges.

"Wh-what do you want me to give you?" she asked.

Because all this honesty left me feeling a little ragged, a little mean, I pushed a finger into her ass. She clamped down around me and I was done. This was over.

Despite my request to wait for permission—who the literal fuck did I think I was with that?—her body quaked and shook, a million tiny flutters moving through her muscles as goose bumps swept over her skin. If I wasn't wrong, her eyes rolled back in her head as I blasted into the condom. "Which part of everything was unclear to you?"

Zelda's only response was a long, moaning, "Ash."

When my alarm sounded at six thirty, an hour and a half later than usual because my shoulder hurt too much to even think about hitting the gym, Zelda slapped my ass and said, "The first shower's yours."

"It could be ours." I buried my face in the crook of her shoulder and ran a palm over her bare belly and yes, yes, she was right about sleeping naked. This was so much better like this. "Consider the facts. We'd conserve time and water."

She scraped her nails up my spine and I accepted that invitation to grind my erection against her thigh. At that, she laughed, her fingers moving into my hair and closing around the strands. "Are you really telling me you're up for some communal showering? After you groaned into every downshift last night?"

"That happened two times," I argued. "Three, at the most."

She made an indelicate noise, something between a laugh and groan that seemed to say, Okay, whatever. I burrowed deeper into her shoulder as she added, "Not to mention we don't know each other well enough for that."

I pointed to the bed. "Were you here last night? The first time? Or the second? Perhaps the third then? You took me three times, love, I think we know each other fine."

Another one of Zelda's bright laughs sounded in the morning stillness, cracking open the day and promising everything would be as wonderful as waking up with her naked skin and the burn of muscles overworked beneath the sheets.

"There's a difference between knowing someone for

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