Page 47 of After Hours
If anything, the longer they stay together, the more intense it all got.
“Please,” she was panting. “Please, Zachary. Please.”
“This is the real end,” he told her as he slammed himself into her. “The final moment. He’s gone, baby. Everything that happens now is only ours.”
Romily had to breathe so hard to keep from coming that it sounded like a sob, and his cock kept making itthis closeto impossible.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she managed to pant out, bewildered. “Who’s gone?”
Zachary’s laugh was dark and deep. It seemed to wind all around her like her favorite lash, making her clit throb.
She was a scant second away from disappointing him?—
“Come,” he told her, and she exploded.
And still he kept fucking her in that same hard, deep rhythm, sending her screaming through one orgasm and then building right back up toward another one.
All the while, he could spanking her, so it was no time at all before she was begging him once again—only for him to deny her.
He pulled out and Romily thought that she might actually cry.
Zachary pulled her up from the bench, then lifted her into the air and held her there, like he was remembering their first night too.
And then, holding her gaze with all of that intense blue, he lowered her down onto his cock once more, and worked her there.
Like his own fuck toy, once again.
Romily knew that she was a thousand things to him, but these moments where he used her to slake his own lust made her glow, from the inside out.
He moved across the room, his cock still deep inside of her, and flattened her up against the wall. Then he held her up with the pressure of his body and got his hand around her neck.
“Right here,” he whispered. “Tomorrow.”
His cock was still pounding into her. His other hand gripped her ass, and hard. She had to fight andfightto keep from coming.
“Tomorrow,” she agreed.
They had designed the tattoo together. It would be her only one. An intricate collar around her neck, marking her as his forever.
She couldn’t wait.
Romily tilted her head back so she could look at him. Directly in the eye.
“Zachary,” she whispered. “I love you so much. I can’t wait for everyone to know that I’m yours with a single glance.”
“Sneaky,” he said reprovingly, but he bit her lip, gently. “Very sneaky, little bird.”
Because his thrusts were getting wilder. Deeper. He was reaching his limit.
“I love you,” she said again, and kissed him.
“Come, Romily,” he gritted out, against her mouth. “Come for me.”
And she did. Over and over again, she shattered around his beautiful cock as he flooded her, deep inside.
The way she intended to do—with his collar inked in deep around her neck and her ass likely red from his hand—at his command, forever.
