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“No fucking chance.” He continues to thrust vigorously into me. “I know what you feel like now.”
“Samuel,” I try to protest, but I grunt his name instead as he bottoms out inside of me.
I would fight him harder, but I fuck enough men to take precautions against getting pregnant. And the boss requires regular testing of her clientele, so the chances of him not being clean are beyond very slim.
“I fuck you bare,” he grunts between thrusts, quickly forcing me to the brink. “You feel... too fucking good. And I want… to feel.. every bit.. of you clenching …around my cock …when you come.”
He drives into me painfully hard from behind, and I claw at the hood of the car as he draws an orgasm from me. It rattles my entire body, and the muscles in my legs tremble so hard that him holding me up is all that keeps me standing. As I’m riding out my wave of bliss, he grips my thigh and hoists it to the side, opening me wider, allowing him to thrust even deeper into me.
“This tight little cunt of yours is fucking perfection around my cock.” His lips trail along my neck as he changes his pace, the short, rapid thrusts becoming long, deep ones. His words are muffled against my neck as he continues to slide himself in and out of me, but I faintly catch the words, ‘mine’ and ‘now.’
“You fucking love my cock, don’t you?” He maintains his deep, languid strokes as he whispers against my ear. Each one brings me closer to coming again, brings both of us closer to coming.
“Yes,” I moan as tingling pleasure shoots through me as another wave of euphoria hits me.
It’s not a lie. His cock is long, thick, and he knows how to use it to fucking perfection.
I can’t fathom why he’s buying entertainment.
Women would eagerly fall at his feet to be fucked like this.
His hand wraps around my throat, and he pulls my back to his chest as he continues the slow, deep strokes of his cock. Tilting my face up toward his, he kisses my lips, and tries to press his tongue between them. Regardless of how good he feels, I hesitate because I don’t kiss my clients.
“Don’t fight me, love.” His lips vibrate against mine.
“Sa—” I begin to say his name when he tenderly pushes his tongue over mine. The strokes of his tongue match the pace of his cock as he claims my mouth. It’s so deep and passionate that I can’t help but melt into it and kiss him back.
For a mere moment, he doesn’t feel like a client.
This is not how this job is supposed to go.
Our tongues dancing together, I feel him grow more rigid inside of me. His thrusts quicken as he works toward release. I whimper into his mouth as another orgasm leaves me like putty in his arms causing me to clench around him.
A rattled groan rises from his chest as his hips sputter, and he empties himself inside of me. Staying buried deep in my pussy, he pulls back from our kiss, leaving his lips resting against mine. His words a breathless mumble when he finally says, “You aren’t like the others, are you? You’re going to let me take care of you.”
CHAPTER TEN
CORA
A gentle rapping of knuckles on my bedroom door wakes me. The tapping starts again, and it’s incessant, thwarting any chance I have of managing to get more sleep. Tossing in the bed, I catch a glimpse of the alarm clock.
Fucking eight a.m.
“Cora,” a deep, yet soft, voice calls from the other side of the door.
“What?” I groan. Samuel kept me up until well after midnight, and it’s way too fucking early for another round.
The knob turns, and the door cracks open barely an inch. “Can I come in?”
It’s your dollar, dude.
“Of course.” I slide my back up the pillows, quickly smooth my hair, and try to wipe any remnants of sleep from my eyes before he steps inside.
“Good morning.” Samuel steps through the threshold. He’s dressed significantly more casually than I’ve seen him in the past couple of days. But the jeans and T-shirt he is wearing fit him way too well to be anything but designer. Bespoke designer at that. They accentuate the broad shoulders and massive muscular physique you’d expect of a professional athlete, or former in his case. Yet, they aren’t loose or baggy. They fit as though they were literally made for him, and he looks good.
Nearly as good as when he’s not wearing any clothes.
“May I?” He gestures to the bed beside me and waits for a nod before taking a seat. His fingers slide along my jaw, and he smiles at me as he tucks a stray tendril of hair behind my ear. “God, you’re fucking gorgeous.”
