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I let go of her breast and fell back, drunk off her milk and trembling. My lips and chin were wet.
She whimpered, lost in pleasure, head thrown back and breasts bouncing enticingly with each thrust, spilling milk on me and her.
Mysh, what are you doing to me?
My body spasmed.
Her pussy muscles clenched around my cock rhythmically, the walls of her pussy squeezing me with a tightness that had my vision darkening at the edges.
“Oh shit,” I groaned, feeling my climax building at an alarming speed.
She moaned and her body trembled as another orgasm ripped through her.
And I felt it then too, the coiling tension that told me I was about to burst inside of her. My breath hitched as the pressure became too much to bear.
In a last-ditch effort for self-control, I gripped her hips tightly and tried to slow down her frenzied movements, but it was no use. She was a force unto herself now—a wild creature controlling the tempo that led us both to climactic euphoria.
“Oh. . .damn. . .Emily!” I shouted out, submitting to the oncoming wave of pleasure threatening to rip me apart.
My seed surged out of me, spurting into her with a potency that left me breathless. Her walls squeezed my cock, wringing every last drop of my cum from me. I could do nothing but ride out the storm, holding onto her as the world spun around us.
How did she do that?
From somewhere far away, I heard her let out a high-pitched scream, shuddering as yet another orgasm ripped through her. The sound of it was so beautiful; it felt like a sweet symphony to my ears.
I yanked her forward, embedding my face between her breasts, inhaling her scent and savoring the intimacy of our tangled bodies.
My sweet mouse.
She collapsed on top of me, panting heavily.
The rhythm of her heart thundered against my face, matching the frantic tempo of my own heartbeat.
I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her in closer as if fearing she might slip away. “Mysh. . .so dangerous.”
Chapter twenty-three
Silver Dollar Sam
Kazimir
The sleek silhouette of the Silver Specter Inn rose before us, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight.
Emily had managed to slip my shirt back on. The fabric hung big and loose over her curvy frame. Meanwhile, she tied Maxwell’s jacket around her waist.
I couldn’t help but steal glances at her, noting the way the moonlight danced across her face.
Behind us, the convoy of SUVs came to a halt and vomited my men out. Maxwell, Tisha, and the others all wore their exhaustion like a second skin.
I exited the car. Gravel crunched softly under my feet.
I held the door for Emily and offered her my hand.
She climbed out, her bare feet barely touching the ground before I scooped her into my arms.
A soft protest escaped her, her body tensing as she sought to assert her independence, even in such a small way.
“Stop it.” Although I kept my voice gentle, it was a clear command. “You have been through a lot, and you are barefoot.”
