Chapter 16

Brynley

Aleksei Faulk, head of the social event design team for Wilcox Whiskey, winds his warm beige shaded fingers around the edge of the leather seat in front of him and purrs, “Now, walk in for me like you will that night.”

From the doorway at the opposite end of the room, I give my hair a sexy ruffle and sashay into the space as though I’m walking a runaway in my lacy black and skin-tone colored mini rather than the freshly polished floors of Fire however, the action instantly inspires me to airily amend, “ Only. Yours. ”

Grunts of praise and approval and gratitude profusely pour out of him on every bestial pump of his cock. One by one by one, they barbarically pierce through my white-hot heat.

Pen his name in my deepest depths.

Scribble it onto every gasp and cry and scream reverberating around the room.

Winding my legs around his waist is done for leverage; however, the unintentional scraping of my heels at the small of his back seems to spur him into bucking faster.

And biting harder.

And perpetually pounding my pussy until its screeching for mercy to the same incessant speed my mouth is.

Sweat steadily slickens our figures, offering us an insight to how much time is passing, but neither of us seems capable of caring about anything that isn’t coming. His hands being stuck to my wrist and hip the way my calves are glued to his sides simply reiterates the fact. Continual ball slaps from the unrelenting rocking of his hips ignite tiny erotic trembles throughout my system, while the harsher brushes caused by his chest grinding the fabric of my dress against my nipples create much larger ones.

“ You want my cum, little prey? ” Wes filthily purrs beside the shell of my ear. “ Is that what you want me to slip between your lips tonight? ”

“ Yes ,” incoherently claws itself out of my vocal cords.

“ Tell me what I wanna hear. ” The demand swells his shaft to the brink. “ Tell me what I want the whole fucking world to hear. ”

There’s no time required to meet the request.

No need for long contemplation or consideration.

What he wants is exactly what I’m prepared to give whenever he’s willing to show up to take it.

“ Yours, Wes ,” leaves my lips as my unsteady figure grows more so. “ I’m. All. Yours. ”

“ All. ” He savagely heaves. “ Fucking. ” This one curls me tightly underneath him, pussy relentlessly thrumming in warning. “ Mine. ”

Shattering on the last hit sends my head backwards at the same time I squeeze my eyes shut to brace for the orgasm impact.

Suddenly, the hand that was gripping my hip, grasps my cheeks and forces my attention back to his when he groans, “ Watch me fucking break you. ”

A single hitch in my breathing is all that precedes liquor bottle rattling screams beckoned by my pulsating pussy greedily milking Wes’s throbbing cock. Blistery spurts splash against the quivering muscles, giving them more reasons to quake and quaver and the rest of my body more reasons to shake and shiver.

Through a heavily hooded gaze, I drink in the delectable, depraved view of his bared teeth.

Strained neck and jaw.

Chest so taut and tense I swear it could split open his deep, decade old scars.

Seeing him like this…so unrestrained…so uninhibited…so… unhidden …tells me exactly what it is I’ve just told him.

Weston Wilcox is now mine.

And only mine.