Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 43856 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43856 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
She let out a choked moan, and her body trembled beneath me.
That pussy was perfect.
Five Stellar stars for sure.
Tight.
Hot.
Fucking heaven.
A guttural groan ripped from my chest as I kept pulling back and then sinking back into her.
Those pussy walls squeezed my cock like a fucking vice.
She cried out, gripping the wall, her back arching, taking me deep.
And that was it, I maintained the grip on her hips and fucked her like I should have in the car.
Raw.
Unrestrained.
Hungry.
Her moans turned to cries, her legs shaking.
I drove into her, deep and unrelenting. “You feel this, chérie? This is your fucking future. Wrapped around my cock, taking every inch.”
Her breathless cries echoed in the suite, each desperate sound fueling the hunger clawing through me.
Her pussy was silk and fire wrapped around my cock, gripping me.
Milking me.
Pulling me in deeper with every thrust.
Her walls clenched tight, her body taking me in as if it had been made for this, for me.
“And anytime you try to run from my love, remember this—how I stretch you open, how I own this fucking body.” I gritted my teeth, my muscles tensing as I set a brutal pace, snapping my hips forward, slamming her into the wall with every thrust.
The force of it made the framed artwork rattle.
“Tell me you love it.”
She loudly moaned. “I love it!”
“Tell me you fucking need it.”
“I need it!”
The air ran thick with the scent of our sweat and lust, our bodies moving in a rhythm that neither of us could control anymore.
“Damn it!” I couldn’t believe how amazing her pussy was.
It was in that moment when I realized I would probably end up being an American—getting citizenship in this godforsaken country just to have her pussy.
It made me so lustful and angry, I sneered, “I’ll fuck you on every wall of every city I take you to. Paris, Manhattan, LA, London, fucking Moscow—you’re mine in all of them.”
Her fingers curled into fists against the wall. “Oh! Oh!”
“Yes. I like that.”
"Oh God!”
“Are you close to cumming?”
“Yes.”
“Then, beg for it.”
“Please!”
“Beg me to fuck you harder.”
“H-harder!!”
The plea was desperate, rippling from her throat like a fallen angel's prayer.
I growled, my need to satisfy her overpowering anything else.
I pounded my cock into her.
"Oh God, Fabien!"
"Say it again."
"Fabien!"
"That's it, chérie. Cum for me.”
And she fell apart.
And then, I lost it too.
We came together.
Hot.
Wet.
Vibrating.
We screamed together.
A guttural groan ripped through me as my cock swelled inside of her, my release tearing through me like a violent storm.
I buried myself to the hilt, holding her there, forcing her to take every hot, pulsing white drop as I filled her, marking her, claiming her in the only way I could in that moment.
But it wasn’t enough.
The need to brand her, to make sure she never forgot this, never forgot me, clawed at me like an obsession.
Pulling out, I groaned at the sight of her—legs shaking, skin damp with sweat.
I gripped my cock, still hard, still leaking, and ran the thick head over her ass, her lower back, watching as my cum spilled onto her rich dark brown skin, dripping in thick white ropes down her lush curves, onto even the plush carpet beneath us.
There we go.
I let out a slow breath, savoring the sight, the ownership of it. “Perrrrfectttt.”
Epilogue
First Class to Forever
Rae
Laila laughed so hard, I had to pull my phone away from my ear before she got me kicked off this flight.
“So hold up now!” she gasped between giggles. “You mean to tell me that he is sitting right next to you on the plane?!”
I kept my voice low. “Yes.”
“How the hell did he manage that?!”
“At the sight of my original seat, he huffed in dismay and bought two first-class tickets for a new flight. He’s a little snobby.”
Fabien’s deep, accented voice rumbled beside me. “I heard that.”
I glanced over at him and chuckled.
Currently, he was flipping through the menu like we were at some three Stellar star restaurant instead of sitting on a commercial airline.
I rolled my eyes, but deep down?
Yeah, I liked it.
This man wasn’t playing with me.
Not even a little bit.
“Girllllll!” On the phone, Laila dragged the word out. “So. . .I’m going to meet your new boo?”
“Yes.”
“Like. . .today?”
“Yes.”
“Girl, your therapist is going to pass out.”
I did my best not to burst into laughter. “I know, right?”
“She told you to take yourself out on a date, and you came back with a rich man.”
“Girl. . .”
The pilot’s voice crackled through the intercom, announcing our departure.
“Okay, Laila, I gotta go.”
“Fine, fine. But call me when you land. And take lots of pictures because I need to see if this man is actually real or if you had some sort of Parisian fever dream.”
I smirked. “Bye, Laila.”
She hung up, and I slid my phone into my bag.
Beside me, Fabien was unbothered.
He lounged back in his seat, still inspecting the menu like the fate of the entire French culinary world depended on his breakfast selection.