The orgasm hits me with a blinding force and then I’m falling, shattering, but there’s no landing in sight. Not even when I blink rapidly, trying to rein in my reaction. The force of the pleasure is stronger than my attempts at self-control, and I just scream.
He wraps a hand around my mouth. “Shh, people will hear.”
Shit.
I completely forgot about that, about the fact that we’re at the firm and that I’m protecting my plans in the laptop from him, even though my hands are still over my head.
As the wave slowly subsides, I lie there, catching my breath and my thoughts. I’m a bit sleepy, too.
It’s a problem if I constantly want to collapse after a powerful orgasm. Doesn’t that defy the whole purpose behind it?
In my haze, I make out Knox climbing up my body until his knees are on either side of my head. His dark shadow falls over me like doom, a thrilling one at that. One that I can’t stop staring at.
And then I taste something salty—his precum. In my daze, I didn’t notice that he was placing the tip of his dick on my mouth. “I need these lips on my cock.”
I open slowly, taking him inside. It’s different from the other time because now, I don’t even attempt to have any control. It’s all his for the taking.
He snakes a hand beneath my head, gripping me by the hair, and thrusts into my mouth with brute force. He hits the back of my throat and I choke on him, spluttering and gasping for air.
“Relax your throat,” he coaxes, almost half ordering, and then thrusts again. “That’s it, beautiful.”
My heartbeat thunders and my pussy clenches with a renewed need at his words. The fact that he’s still calling me beautiful, that he’s enjoying it.
I really do get off on his pleasure. On the fact that I’m the reason behind it, the reason he’s groaning deep in his throat.
And I want more of that.
So I relax my throat more, letting him fuck it hard and fast and without restraint. I moan around him, too, because I like this feeling of power.
I like how his hips jerk as if he’s unable to control the pleasure.
“Fuck, beautiful. I’m going to release my cum down that pretty throat.” And with one last grunt, he does as promised, shooting his release so deep that I barely get to taste him as I swallow.
When he pulls out, a trail of cum forms between my mouth and his dick, and I’m utterly fascinated by the view that I can’t look away from it.
From him.
He wipes the side of my mouth with his thumb and I can almost hear the smirk in his voice as he says, “I’m going to have fun playing with you, my little liar.”
10
KNOX
The moment I get off her, Anastasia crawls backward until her back hits the side of a shelf, but she holds the laptop protectively to her chest.
She didn’t let it go, even while she was shattering against my cock and I had to muffle her screams.
I tuck myself in and grunt at the twitch in my dick. Apparently, coming down her pretty throat isn’t enough. I’m resisting the urge to grab her by the throat and fuck her against the wall. Condoms be damned.
Though, not really. I’m not my sister and I’m not interested in kids now. Or ever. Why bring a child to this cruel world, then force them to fend for themselves?
Remi is the only kid allowed in my life, and only from afar.
Nevertheless, I’m seriously contemplating bending her over the nearest table and fucking her tight little cunt. I can pull out before I’m finished or—
Fuck, what am I even thinking about? I shouldn’t be entertaining this idea in the first place, let alone finding loopholes around it.
I don’t fuck without a condom and that’s that. I’m pissed off that I even considered the option.
This is only because I haven’t shagged in a while. That’s it.
That’s all.
Anastasia grabs the laptop with one hand and zips her pants with the other. That’s her name, Anastasia, her real name.
In admitting that, she also indirectly insinuated that the whole Jane persona is just that—a persona. None of it is real; not her appearance and definitely not those fake brown eyes that are currently tracking my every movement.
Sometimes, she looks like prey, a smart one who does the watching instead of waiting to be eaten.
Now that I think about it, this is what she’s been doing ever since that first time I saw her in that bar. She was watching from behind those icy blonde strands and determining what to do next.
Is it curiosity or perhaps caution?
Just who the fuck is she? The mere question in my head boils my blood with annoyance. I’m not a good man. I’m not even decent. Needless to say, I’m not the type who asks women their names, let alone about their life story.
So why the fuck do I want to jam my fingers inside her and pull out whatever the fuck she’s hiding?
Why her?
Because she’s a little fucking liar, that’s why.
While I’m used to criminals lying to me all the time, it’s different when it’s on a personal scale.
Once I’m all tucked in, I open the door with more force than needed. The light from outside slips inside, bathing the room and her in a soft hue.
Her cheeks are still red, her expression like a deer caught in the headlights, but she takes the motion of me opening the door as meaning I’m done with her and bends over to grab her laptop case.
The moment she does, I snatch it from between her fingers.
At first, she freezes as if not understanding what just happened, then a blush covers her cheeks. The light coming through the door turns her brown eyes lighter, almost streaked with blue. Which I’m sure is her actual eye color.
“Give it back!”
“Tell me something about the real you first.”
She jumps, but I’m holding the laptop up. Considering our size difference, she won’t be able to reach it no matter how much she tries.
But she does just that—try. She grabs my arm and uses it as leverage to jump higher. Her face turns a deeper shade of red with each passing second and her breathing comes out harsh and guttural.
Finally, she pushes back, her brow furrowing before she raises her nose. “You won’t be able to open it anyway. It’s password protected.”
“I’ll figure out a way.” I shake the laptop in the air. “I wonder what skeletons I’ll find here.”
She purses her lips. “Why do you want to know about me?”
“Because I’m not a big fan of liars. Besides, you know so much about me from all that googling, it’s only fair that I’m in the know, too.”
She stares at my hand for a second and I can tell the exact moment she decides to have one last-ditch attempt.
But even as she jumps, she doesn’t manage to reach half the distance.
“Nice try.” I smirk.
She glares, but it’s only a fraction of a second before she breaks eye contact. I noticed that she doesn’t do that a lot, looking into other people’s or my eyes, as if she’s escaping something by avoiding them.
Crouching down, she grabs her glasses that I threw away earlier and puts them on, using them as some sort of armor, a weapon against the world.
Or maybe just against me.
“I have a condition.”
“A condition? What makes you think you’re in a position to have those? I have your laptop, remember?”
“I won’t tell you anything unless you agree to my condition.”
“And what is that?”
She inhales a deep breath, places her hand on her chest, then says, “Can’t you accept that woman’s case?”
I narrow my eyes. “Were you spying on me?”
“I just…happened to be passing by.”
“For such an excellent liar, you’re doing a rubbish job with your speech pattern right now. But it doesn’t matter, because the answer is no.”
A frown appears between her delicate brows and she drops her hand from her chest. “Why not? She was obviously abused.”
“How do you know that?”
“She had purple marks on her wrist that she was hiding with makeup. It’s typical behavior shown by abused women.”