Page 52 of Wardrobe Malfunction

This man has slept with supermodels and actresses. I want him to remember this…remember me…because, at the end of the day, I’m no one special. I’ll just be another notch on Vaughn’s bedpost. But, to me, no other man will ever compare.

He’s basically screwing me for life.

And I honestly don’t care.

“Fuck, Charly. Yeah, that’s it…suck me harder…good girl.”

His hot, dirty commands are making me wetter and needier. I slip my free hand between my legs and start playing with myself.

“My job,” he says.

The next thing I know, he’s pulling out of my mouth. I’m flat on my back. Vaughn is grabbing a condom from his wallet, ripping it open, and putting it on in a nanosecond.

Then, he’s back on top of me. His hands hold my face, and he kisses me deeply. My eyes slide closed.

“Eyes open,” he murmurs over my lips.

I open them, staring into his, and he slowly pushes inside me until he’s buried to the hilt.

Holy shit.

I’ve never felt anything like him. I feel so full of him. He’s everywhere. In me. On me. My lungs and head are filled with him.

“You’re so tight and hot,” he groans.

“And you’re so big and hard.”

His eyes meet mine, and we both laugh.

It feels nice. Not awkward, like the first time having sex with someone can be. It feels like we’ve always been doing this.

“You’re okay?” he asks.

He sounds calm, but I can see the restraint that he’s barely holding on to by the tightening in his jaw, the tension in his brow.

“More than okay. Fuck me, Vaughn. Please.”

He brushes his lips over mine and whispers, “Yes, ma’am.”

I smile. But it’s quickly gone as Vaughn starts to move, fucking me slowly, then quicker and quicker, and harder and faster. The headboard is banging against the wall, surely denting it. I’m panting and groaning. Our flesh is slapping loudly together. The room next door must be able to hear us, and I can’t find it in me to give a shit.

Because, Jesus, the man can fuck.

He’s like a machine. A fucking machine.

I never want this to end.

His hand goes behind my back, and he moves, sitting up on his haunches, bringing me with him, so I’m straddling him, putting us face-to-face.

“Ride me,” he orders.

I wrap my arms around his neck and curl my fingers into the hair at the back of his head. I kiss him and then rise up onto my knees before slamming back down.

“Fuck yeah, that’s it,” he groans into my mouth.

His hands grip my hips as I start riding him.

“You’re so fucking sexy.” His hands slide down and grip my ass, urging me onto his cock harder.