Painted Red - Page 17

Her words seemed to escape her but her pussy tightened even more around me, causing my movements to stutter a bit.

I growled. “Hold your legs up.”

With my hands free, I leaned down, latching onto Rosie’s neck with my mouth, sucking passion marks into her skin while my hands went to grasp her hips. I fucked her brutally, seeking my own pleasure and demanding hers.

“Fuck me!” Rosie pleaded, begging me not to stop every few seconds.

As if I ever could.

I leaned back again, looking down at her pleasure-reddened skin covered in a light sheen of sweat. I could hardly take it. Her pussy felt so fucking good. Too fucking good.

I needed to come. But I needed her to pop off first.

“Play with your clit, Rosie.” She followed my command, immediately reaching down to rub her dainty fingers against her hard, glistening clit. The sight of it gave me pause.

She looked so fucking gorgeous playing with her own pussy, I could have spent hours watching Rosie take gratification in her own touch. And I would one day, just not right now.

“C’mon, baby. Come all over my dick. Let me feel it.”

A few more pointed thrusts and I felt Rosie come apart underneath me. Her delicious cunt contracting wetly around me, as her orgasm crashed through her. That gorgeous body of hers wracked with shivers.

I followed not long after, my dick pulsing inside of her still orgasming pussy, shooting my come into her, making her wet and sloppy with me.

I stayed inside of her for a beat longer, letting our oversensitive bodies calm down before slowly pulling out. Loving the sight of my cream escaping her fucked out slit. Completely unconcerned, for the moment, that it was there at all.

I could think of nothing but the fact that I was so intensely, epically in love with her.

12

Rosie

I loved him.

It was a ridiculous notion, I barely knew the man a few weeks, but the way my heart swelled and soared at the very brush of his fingers and the way his mere presence filled me with a joy that I hadn’t felt since my mother was alive made my feelings obvious to me.

I loved Dexter Quinn. It was foolish and premature and entirely ridiculous but I did. No amount of denial would change that.

Reaching down to touch between my thighs, I felt the evidence of him still lingering there, coating the insides of my legs and on the lips of my pussy. The feeling, while completely foreign, wasn’t unwelcome. In fact, I liked it. I liked that he had marked me in that way. It made me feel like what we had was somehow permanent.

I knew logically that I shouldn’t have let him come inside me. Dex and I hadn’t been engaged in a long-term relationship with each other, nor had we discussed our sexual histories with much depth. It was completely stupid of me, and him for that matter, to forgo protection. It seemed all aspects of logical thought went out of the window when he was near me.

I had never been in love before, I never had the chance to be. Not in the all-girls boarding schools I was forced into during my adolescence and certainly not with Daniel Bennett. Of course I had crushes before. On boys and men who were just unattainable enough for me to fantasize about but never have to worry about actually falling for. But romantic love was completely foreign to me; it was something I read about in books, saw in movies, even noticed on the faces of those around me, but it never had a place in my life.

My purpose had always been clear; get enough of an education to appear intelligent, lure in some rich, well-connected man and leave any feelings I had behind as I became the perfect trophy wife.

Love had never been a factor or an option.

Dex snuck into my world, with all of his passion and laughter, and completely obliterated everything I thought I knew about how life was supposed to be. Even still, there wasn’t a single part of me that didn’t want to thank him for it.

As Dex drifted off to sleep beside me, I stared down at his handsome face. His long, dark eyelashes resting against his lightly tanned cheeks, his strong, bare chest rising and falling rhythmically with his deep breaths.

He was so damned gorgeous I could hardly believe he was real.

But he was. He was real, and raw, and mine.

And I was his too.

The next morning, after a couple hours of being generally useless and fooling around, Dex and I were enjoying a couple bowls of cereal when I got a text from Nora.

Tags: Lila Fox Erotic
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