she spasmed around his hard
stalk. He gave her less time to become accustomed to the invasion but Rowyn
found she didn’t need it. No, she’d longed for the steady pleasure-pain burn,
welcomed it.
“That’s it.” The praise delivered in the tender but rough
voice thrilled her, arrowing a shaft of delight from her heart to the hot, wet
place he fucked with determination. “Damn, you’re tight. And so wet. A little
more, sweetheart. Just a little…”
He flexed his hips and groaned. His body stiffened over her.
The mask of passion that claimed his face captured her fascination. Lips drawn
into a tight line, teeth clenched so hard a tiny muscle jumped along the strong
line of his jaw. Nostrils flared and dark lashes lowered in a hooded, sensual
stare that had her pussy clenching around his fully embedded cock. A long, low
hiss escaped his lips and blue fire leaped in his eyes.
She lifted her legs and locked her ankles just above his
tight ass. A raw, hungry growl rumbled in his chest and as he shifted, his
heavy sac grazed the stretched folds of her sex. Another sensation to add to
the ecstasy overload she found herself tossed into. She stared into the face of
desire, her pussy filled to capacity with it. She took in a deep breath and
inhaled the scent of sex from his skin—and still she craved more.
“Are you okay?” he asked. She registered the question, but
how the hell did he expect her to answer when he did that circle thing with his
hips, setting her clit on a one-way ticket to orgasm? She couldn’t reply, so
instead she squeezed the muscles in her sex, clamping down on his cock. When he
grunted above her, Rowyn figured he received his answer.
“Fuck,” he muttered and proceeded to do just that—fuck her.
He rode her hard. With every long, plunging stroke of his cock he shoved her
closer to the precipice of release. She cried out, sobbing her pleasure that
penetrated not only her flesh but her heart, her soul.
The mattress bounced beneath them. The headboard banged out
the wild rhythm he set with his driving hips. And she held on to him through it
all, trusting where he would take her. As the orgasm swelled, it seemed almost
frightening in its intensity, in its power. Yet she threw herself headfirst
into the blaze, knowing—believing—he would be there to catch her.
Chapter Six
“The prince chased her, but outside the palace, the
guards had seen only a simple country wench leave. The prince pocketed the
slipper and vowed to find and marry the girl to whom it belonged.”—Cinderella
“Not this shit again.”—Darius Fiore
The aroma of freshly brewing coffee tickled his nose and
Darius inhaled.
Damn. Smelling it was like foreplay to the main event—that
first delicious cup.
He reached over his head, opened the cupboard door and
removed two mugs the hotel provided. As he waited for the pot to finish, he
glanced toward the closed bedroom door. He regretted not leaving it open so he
could look in on the sleeping figure of the woman who’d shared his bed and her
body with him last night. Unlike the previous time they’d been together, he’d
woken up next to her this morning. A grin curved his lips. Who would’ve guessed
Rowyn Jeong was a cuddler?
The last of the coffee trickled into the pot, and after
filling both ceramic cups with the dark brew, he added cream and sugar to one
and left the other black. On bare feet, he turned and exited the small
kitchenette, mugs in hand. He’d barely made it across the living area when a
knock sounded on the hotel room door. Frowning, he shot a glance at the digital
clock on the kitchenette counter. 7:56 a.m. Who could that be?
Darius set the steaming cups on the small table beside the
couch and headed toward the door. With a twist of his wrist he had the lock
unbolted and the door opened. Surprise sang through him.
Cindy Harrison.
Rowyn’s younger sister smiled up at him, lovely and fresh in
a yellow summer dress that complimented her
stalk. He gave her less time to become accustomed to the invasion but Rowyn
found she didn’t need it. No, she’d longed for the steady pleasure-pain burn,
welcomed it.
“That’s it.” The praise delivered in the tender but rough
voice thrilled her, arrowing a shaft of delight from her heart to the hot, wet
place he fucked with determination. “Damn, you’re tight. And so wet. A little
more, sweetheart. Just a little…”
He flexed his hips and groaned. His body stiffened over her.
The mask of passion that claimed his face captured her fascination. Lips drawn
into a tight line, teeth clenched so hard a tiny muscle jumped along the strong
line of his jaw. Nostrils flared and dark lashes lowered in a hooded, sensual
stare that had her pussy clenching around his fully embedded cock. A long, low
hiss escaped his lips and blue fire leaped in his eyes.
She lifted her legs and locked her ankles just above his
tight ass. A raw, hungry growl rumbled in his chest and as he shifted, his
heavy sac grazed the stretched folds of her sex. Another sensation to add to
the ecstasy overload she found herself tossed into. She stared into the face of
desire, her pussy filled to capacity with it. She took in a deep breath and
inhaled the scent of sex from his skin—and still she craved more.
“Are you okay?” he asked. She registered the question, but
how the hell did he expect her to answer when he did that circle thing with his
hips, setting her clit on a one-way ticket to orgasm? She couldn’t reply, so
instead she squeezed the muscles in her sex, clamping down on his cock. When he
grunted above her, Rowyn figured he received his answer.
“Fuck,” he muttered and proceeded to do just that—fuck her.
He rode her hard. With every long, plunging stroke of his cock he shoved her
closer to the precipice of release. She cried out, sobbing her pleasure that
penetrated not only her flesh but her heart, her soul.
The mattress bounced beneath them. The headboard banged out
the wild rhythm he set with his driving hips. And she held on to him through it
all, trusting where he would take her. As the orgasm swelled, it seemed almost
frightening in its intensity, in its power. Yet she threw herself headfirst
into the blaze, knowing—believing—he would be there to catch her.
Chapter Six
“The prince chased her, but outside the palace, the
guards had seen only a simple country wench leave. The prince pocketed the
slipper and vowed to find and marry the girl to whom it belonged.”—Cinderella
“Not this shit again.”—Darius Fiore
The aroma of freshly brewing coffee tickled his nose and
Darius inhaled.
Damn. Smelling it was like foreplay to the main event—that
first delicious cup.
He reached over his head, opened the cupboard door and
removed two mugs the hotel provided. As he waited for the pot to finish, he
glanced toward the closed bedroom door. He regretted not leaving it open so he
could look in on the sleeping figure of the woman who’d shared his bed and her
body with him last night. Unlike the previous time they’d been together, he’d
woken up next to her this morning. A grin curved his lips. Who would’ve guessed
Rowyn Jeong was a cuddler?
The last of the coffee trickled into the pot, and after
filling both ceramic cups with the dark brew, he added cream and sugar to one
and left the other black. On bare feet, he turned and exited the small
kitchenette, mugs in hand. He’d barely made it across the living area when a
knock sounded on the hotel room door. Frowning, he shot a glance at the digital
clock on the kitchenette counter. 7:56 a.m. Who could that be?
Darius set the steaming cups on the small table beside the
couch and headed toward the door. With a twist of his wrist he had the lock
unbolted and the door opened. Surprise sang through him.
Cindy Harrison.
Rowyn’s younger sister smiled up at him, lovely and fresh in
a yellow summer dress that complimented her
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