Текст книги "Wicked Fall"
Автор книги: Sawyer Bennett
сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 14 страниц)
“Callie… hey, wait up,” I hear from behind me, and instantly, my memories of Woolf and blow jobs fade away.
Turning, I see Colton jogging across the parking lot toward me. My muscles lock with anxiety because Woolf had told me Colton had shown up at the cabin last night as he was helping me into the Range Rover. I hadn’t seen him as I had my head bowed down, rooting through my purse for some gum, but I was terrified he had seen me. Woolf wasn’t sure or not, but he said Colton didn’t seem to recognize me, hopefully because it was so dark outside where the truck was parked.
“Hey,” I say with as bright a smile as I can muster. “What are you up to?”
Colton’s eyes travel down me briefly, and is that my imagination, or did they linger on my breasts? I can’t tell because it was a quick maneuver of his gaze, and then he’s staring at me intently. “Just grabbing a few things for dinner tonight. Interested in joining me?”
“Um… thank you, but no. I’ve actually got some work to do tonight.”
Colton manages to take another step in toward me, and I’m practically pinned up against the door to my truck. His hand comes out and he grazes a finger down the side of my arm. “Come on, Callie. You need to have a little fun. All work and no play makes Callie a dull girl.”
Huh. I bet he wouldn’t think me so dull if he saw me with Bridger and Woolf last night.
I shake my head and pull my arm back. “Actually, I can’t. I think I’m going to try to work on patching things up with my fiancé. He was just here in town and we’ve been talking again.”
It’s a bald lie. The part about patching things up, that is, but I couldn’t think of any other way to put Colton off. I hold his gaze solidly, hoping the squared set to my shoulders lends more truth to my quavering voice.
Colton just stares at me a moment, his eyes flicking back and forth between my own. Finally, he places his forearm on the edge of my truck bed, leaning his face in closer to me.
In a soft voice, he says, “That’s a shame to hear.”
I release the air I had been holding in my lungs slowly, so he doesn’t understand how relieved that makes me to hear him say that. He nods his head and tips his hat as he takes a step backward. “Have a nice evenin’, Callie.”
“You too,” I murmur, but he’s already turned away and walking back across the parking lot.
He said all the right words.
Acted as if he bought my explanation.
And yet, something heavy settles in the pit of my stomach. I think it was because of the slight smile he gave me just before he turned away.
I’m pretty sure it said, “Nice try, Callie Hayes, but I got your number.”
Chapter 19
Woolf
I miss Callie and that fucking bothers me.
I am utterly obsessed with her, and I can’t seem to concentrate for shit. This bothers me because not only have I never given another woman this much of my attention before, but I’ve never given another person in the entire world this much of my devotion, and that includes Bridger. It scares the piss out of me that all I can seem to think about is her.
Tenn arrived by plane at a little after three PM, and of course, I didn’t even see him walk out of the airport because I was thinking of Callie. Or, more specifically, the way I ate her pussy this morning, then fucked her hard doggie style, and almost made myself pass out from the force of the orgasm I had. I think she did pass out for a few seconds.
Or the way after dinner tonight, Tenn suggested we get started going over some business matters he came in to discuss, and of course, I was thinking about Callie. Except it wasn’t about sex and Callie, which does indeed take up a lot of my day, but rather about how fucking good it feels to sleep with her all night with my arms wrapped tightly around her and the smell of her gardenia shampoo in my nose.
Fucking woman is what I’m turning in to.
We just finished making some coffee and started back in on the financials, and even now, as Tenn flips through this quarter’s P&Ls for the various subsidiary companies under JennCo, I tap my pencil on my thigh, which makes me think of spanking Callie. I wonder if she’d get off on it?
I bet she would.
In fact, I will definitely spank that gorgeous ass next time we’re together while the fingers on my other hand are shoved deep inside her—
“Everything looks in order,” Tenn says as he closes the large binder and throws it down on the coffee table, sadly making all thoughts of my palm heating Callie’s ass up splinter and dissolve. We had spread everything out in the Great Room and sipped on coffee while I brought him up to date on everything. After my father died, Tenn promised to stay involved with the company until I felt secure enough for him to walk away for good. Tenn wanted to live his simple life in North Carolina with Casey, Zoe, and Bree.
And I’m thinking that time is about now, because while Tenn had planned on staying a week to visit, I’ve managed to update him on everything in just under one evening thanks to some well-organized reports from Marta.
He picks up his coffee cup from the table and tilts it until it’s drained. When he sets it down, he leans back on the couch and studies me for a moment. Finally, he says, “Bro… I’m not sure why you need me involved anymore. You’re doing a fucking fantastic job.”
I know I should be all aflutter from his praise, but I’m not. I haven’t done anything that amazing, because truthfully, JennCo has an unparalleled Board of Directors, vice presidents, and attorneys that pretty much keep things going for us. Like Tenn, I review a few reports to keep my eye on things, make a few suggestions, but mostly, I let my advisors lead the way. Now granted, I still have a very active hand in managing the Double J, because there’s no denying that the actual practice of ranching is part of my DNA. I do love that aspect of running the business and have never once thought of backing away from that.
In truth, I guess I’ve never invested one-hundred percent in to the thought of backing away from JennCo either. While I’ve always slightly resented that I’ve had to bear the burden of it, particularly when I started The Wicked Horse, the truth of the matter is that I’m not sure I could abandon it. While for a period of time I thought the club might be my true calling in life, when it boils down to it, I’ve managed to run JennCo, the ranch, and The Wicked Horse—with Bridger’s help of course—just fine. And if I can continue to manage all three enterprises as well as let Tenn free to live his life, then there really is no reason for me to even tell him about The Wicked Horse.
Right?
Because that was my goal on this trip of his back home. To let him in on what really motivates me. To share with him the person I truly am.
He loves tinkering with his motorcycles… I love tinkering with kinky sex.
Not that much different to my way of thinking.
Except, there’s a damn good argument to be made that he should just stay in the dark where The Wicked Horse is concerned. It’s not hurting him or the business. It’s operated on the down low, and I’ve been able to smoothly handle both lives with no problems.
“What about Stokes’ Red Angus crossbreeds?” Tenn asked conversationally. “Any good?”
I had managed to make it over to Colton’s ranch to check out his stock last week and wasn’t overly impressed. He talked a good game but in my opinion, the musculature on the cattle had the potential to fall short of Angus certification standards. “I took a pass on purchasing from him. They were nice but didn’t overwhelm me, and I don’t want to risk weakening our stock. I’ll take my chances at auction.”
Tenn nods. “I heard through the grapevine that after his daddy had that bypass, he’s been having troubles maintaining the ranch.”
I blink in surprise. “Really? Colton always made it sound like things were going great.”
With a shrug, Tenn pushes up from the couch and grabs his cup. “Who knows? Want another cup of coffee?”
“Sure,” I say as I hand him my mug just as the doorbell rings.
Tenn nods his head toward the door. “You see who’s here and I’ll get us filled back up.”
I push up and off the couch and walk over to the east staircase that leads up to the first level. The front door to the house leads to nothing more than a large foyer that overlooks the interior of the two-story Great Room below, since the house is built into the back of a butte and falls downward from the top floor. The massive Great Room’s southern wall is nothing but floor-to-ceiling panes of glass framed in cedar providing a stunning view of the Teton mountain range.
I jog up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and swing the front door open just as the doorbell rings again.
Rather insistently, this time.
I put on an annoyed face to level at whoever is standing on the other side, but as soon as I see Governor Hayes standing there with a furious look on his face, my annoyance is forgotten.
Now I’m filled with gut-wrenching dread.
“We need to talk,” he grits out between teeth clenched so tightly, I’m not sure his jaw will ever come unhinged.
There’s only one reason he’s standing on my front porch looking like that, so I have to ask him, “Is Callie alright?”
“As if you even care,” he hisses as he takes a step toward me.
I back up, not out of fear but out of respect. Opening the door wider, I motion him inside, and he storms past me. With a sigh and a brisk rub of my forefinger over the bridge of my nose, I close the door and follow him down the stairs.
Governor Reginald Hayes knows his way around my house well. He and my father were tight friends, having known each other most of their lives, and of course, my father contributed a lot of money to his political campaigns and to the campaigns of his cronies over the years. I’ve not been much of one to follow the political scene, but I’ve instructed my CFO to make appropriate donations to Reggie when he’s needed them, out of familial respect. His son, Richard, was one of my closest friends after all, and I could even say Reggie was somewhat of a father figure to me.
But now as he hits the bottom step and rounds on me, looking madder than a rattlesnake, I know that he’s holding not one ounce of affection for me.
Callie got her looks from her father, as her mother, Ellen, has fair skin and hair. Now Reggie’s green eyes that he passed on to Callie are almost red with fury as he says, “Just what in the fuck have you gotten my daughter involved in, Woolf?”
I hold my hands up in supplication. “Reggie… you need to just calm—”
“Don’t you tell me to calm down,” he bellows as he advances on me. I back up but he keeps charging, until I’m stopped by the stone wall that borders the fireplace. His hands come to my t-shirt and grip me tightly. Even though he’s shorter than me by several inches, he has the rage of a protective father coursing through him and he pulls me forward before slamming me back into the wall.
And I let him, because fuck… if I had a daughter and some man did to her what I did to Callie… I’d fucking kill him. No doubt.
The next thing I know, Reggie is pulled back by Tenn’s strong arms around his stomach and pushed not too gently away. While he too respects Governor Hayes, he’s reacting out of protective instinct of his brother at the moment.
“What the hell is going on?” Tenn says in what is a moderately calm voice as he looks between Reggie and me. I pull the edge of my t-shirt down, straightening out the wrinkles left from Reggie’s fists, and try to stall for a good answer.
Too late.
Reggie points a shaking finger at me while he looks at Tenn. “Your brother is a fucking pervert, and he ruined my daughter.”
“Now wait a goddamned second—” I start to say, because that’s not really accurate, but Tenn steps toward Reggie menacingly.
In true big brother fashion, he takes my back without even knowing if I’m guilty. “I suggest you tone it down a notch, Reggie, or I’ll be forced to see you out, governor or no governor title to your name.”
Reggie isn’t dissuaded but merely comes at me a different way. He turns to face me and almost spits out with disgust, “Tell him. Tell your brother all about your sex club and the orgies you have there. Tell him about bringing Callie there for an orgy.”
“What the fuck?” Tenn says incredulously at Reggie, still disbelieving a word he’s saying about his little brother.
I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment and take a deep breath, because I can’t let Tenn keep defending me when Reggie is skirting too close to the truth.
“It wasn’t an orgy,” I say tiredly, feeling the weight of my brother’s surprised stare. “It was a private group of people that got together for—”
Reggie’s fist comes out of nowhere and catches me solidly on my left jaw. My head rocks hard and I stagger back a step, but I right myself quickly and manage to catch his follow-up punch with one hand.
Tenn jumps in and pulls Reggie away again, who is now so red in the face and panting hard, that I’m afraid he’s going to have a heart attack.
“Sit down,” Tenn orders Reggie and pushes him into the nearest chair. He then points to me. “Park your ass on the couch and you better do some fucking fast talk to clear this up.”
I refuse to take the couch as my brother orders, because I’m not a child, but I go ahead and lay it all out for him. “A little over a year ago, I started construction on a nightclub called The Wicked Horse. It’s been open a few months now.”
“It’s a sex club,” Reggie growls.
I hold my hand up to him and give a glare. “It’s a nightclub, but there are buildings behind it that I sell private memberships to. The patrons have access to a secure and private place where they can meet up with people of like minds—”
“Perverts,” Reggie huffs.
“—who can live out their sexual fantasies safely.”
Tenn’s mouth flops opens, and he stares at me as if he didn’t understand a word of what I just said. But then it seems to hit him all at once.
“You built this on Double J property?” he asks slowly.
“Yes.”
“With family money?”
“No. With my money,” I tell him without breaking eye contact.
“And what the hell does this have to do with Callie?” Tenn asks me and then looks over at Reggie. “I thought she was living back East.”
“I wish,” Reggie snarls. “I didn’t like Will much but at least he kept her safe from this… this… debauchery.”
I shake my head.
Oh, Reggie. If only you knew what kind of shit your daughter’s fiancé was into.
Standing from the couch, Reggie turns to Tenn. “Colton Stokes told me that Woolf owns that club and that he took Callie there.”
Motherfucking twat. I’m going to kill that fucker.
Pointing a shaking finger at me, Reggie’s voice gets high with hysteria. “He said there was an orgy going on and he saw Callie coming out of one of the buildings with Woolf. He brought my little girl to an orgy and took advantage of her.”
“Not denying he saw Callie and me together,” I growl, because I’m about sick of this shit. “But that’s all he saw.”
“Do you deny that there was an orgy going on in that building you came out of with my sweet Callie?” Reggie practically screams.
“I think you need to take a chill pill, old man,” I sneer at him defensively.
“Christ,” Tenn mutters as he scrubs his hand through his hair.
“Where is Callie?” I ask Reggie, figuring she took her father’s fury first.
“She’s at home and you had better stay the fuck away from her,” Reggie says shakily.
“Is she okay?” I ask, needing him to at least tell me that.
Reggie laughs as he takes a step toward me. Tenn is poised to pounce if necessary, but Reggie’s voice stops him in his tracks. It’s soft and deadly sincere. “You’re a selfish man, Woolf. Did it ever occur to you the people you could be hurting with all of this? Callie’s reputation. My reputation. Do you know what would happen if word got out that the governor’s daughter was at a sex club? What type of turmoil you’d throw this precious state—that you claim to love—in? Did you even think once what this would do to Callie if it became public?”
Guilt and shame crush me, because most of that shit never once crossed my mind. Not seriously, anyway. I was too focused on pleasing myself and giving into Callie’s desires, that I never once considered the repercussions.
“I’ll talk to Colton,” I say lamely.
“Colton Stokes won’t say a word,” Reggie says with an impatient wave of his hand. “He only wanted me to know so I could put a stop to it for Callie’s sake. He’s an honorable man.”
Naive son of a bitch. That same honorable man is a member of my club, you moron.
But I don’t say a word. I just let my shoulders go ahead and sag under the weight of recrimination.
Tenn falls down into the seat that Reggie just vacated and stares out the window. Reggie turns away from both of us and heads to the staircase that leads up to the foyer. When he reaches the bottom step, he says, “Don’t come around Callie. I’ll shoot you on sight if you do. And as of this moment, the Hayes and the Jennings have no ties to each other. We’re done.”
I wince as I watch Reggie walk heavily up the stairs and slide out the front door. I figure my dad and Richard are rolling over in their graves right now, probably sick with disappointment in me, but I can’t think about that right now. Whipping my phone out, I call Callie, but her voice mail picks up.
“Callie… I need to see you. Call me and we’ll figure a place we can meet.”
I disconnect the phone and shove it back in my pocket. My brain is spinning, and I need to talk to Bridger about this. But first… I need to kill Colton Stokes. No wait… I need to go see Callie. That’s what I need to do first.
I can kill Colton later, because that’s about all I can do to him. It’s true enough he signed the same non-disclosure agreement that Callie signed, but there’s no way I can collect on it. That would take a lawsuit. Lawsuits are public record, and Reggie has made it painfully clear how much public knowledge of my club could hurt Callie and their family.
“How in the ever-loving fuck could you have done something so stupid?” Tenn asks me quietly and I jolt, having forgotten he was there.
I turn to look at him, my face flushed with anger. “It’s a legitimate business. I was going to—”
Tenn waves his hand at me. “I don’t give a fuck about your… your… whatever the fuck it is. As long as you aren’t breaking any laws or hurting anyone, I don’t give a shit what you do, but how in the hell could you have gotten Callie involved in that? For Christ’s sake, Woolf… she’s like our little sister.”
With a sigh, I cross over to the couch and flop down on it. I stare at Tenn morosely. “I don’t know. It just got out of control with her. She wanted to go, and I couldn’t say no to her.”
“Well, you should have tried harder,” Tenn snaps at me.
“I know,” I say apologetically, and then again resolutely. “I know.”
“Stay away from her,” Tenn warns. “Her family cannot be connected to that shit. You owe that to them out of respect for Dad and Richard.”
“I fucking got it,” I snap back and then push up off the couch, grabbing my hat off the table.
“Where are you going?” Tenn asks with brotherly concern. Or overbearing concern. Not sure which.
“Out,” is all I tell him as I trot up the stairs.
I need to talk to Bridger.
Chapter 20
Callie
I lift the glass of champagne and drain the remainder. It’s my second glass and I’m already slightly tipsy from it, but that’s what the bubbly does to me. A tuxedoed waiter walks by and I replace the empty with another, taking a tentative sip at it. I want to get stinkin’ drunk, but I’m in “good daughter” mode tonight so that’s not possible.
I’ve been trying to stay in “good daughter” mode since last Saturday morning when my father called me down to his study and proceeded to light into me about The Wicked Horse. Apparently, Colton had a little talk with my father, and so he was having a little—okay, really fucking big—talk with me.
He then left and went straight to Woolf’s house to confront him, and I had hoped Woolf had half a brain and did as I did.
Deny, deny, deny.
I told my father I had no clue what he was talking about and told him that what I did in my personal time was my business and not his. I refused to admit a thing, and so he basically ranted at me for almost forty-five minutes. When he saw he wasn’t getting any satisfaction from me, he informed me he was going to confront Woolf.
Before he left, however, he actually brought me down a peg or two.
“Callie,” he said quietly… almost as if he was exhausted over having me as a daughter. “I never thought you could disappoint me like that. I never knew that you had the capacity to hurt me like that. I’m just so ashamed of you.”
I had to blink hard and fast to stop the moisture from pooling when he said that, and then I was torn between being defiant and wanting to beg my father’s forgiveness. Ultimately, when he returned back home that afternoon, I decided to beg forgiveness and told him I was so sorry for causing him shame. I never did admit to anything, but I was truly sorry and he felt it from me.
He felt it from me because he then asked me for a promise. He said, “Callie… I don’t want you to see Woolf Jennings anymore. I cannot afford to have his name tied to yours if knowledge of that club gets out. It would ruin me politically, so as your father, I’m begging you… please give him up.”
I didn’t answer right away. In fact, every cell in my body reared up in defiance of such a notion. But I couldn’t ignore the supreme fact that my father’s political career would be decimated if I was ever found to be affiliated with something like that. Doesn’t matter if it was legal—it was still considered immoral and I didn’t want my father’s legacy to be tarnished with that.
Even though I felt my heart constrict painfully, I said, “I’ll give him up.”
And I’ve been fucking miserable since.
Woolf won’t quit calling or texting me. For the last four days straight, he’s bombarded me with requests to meet. I haven’t responded to a single one, even though I felt a huge stab of pain every time he reached out to me. Eventually, he’d get tired of waiting for me and move on. Back to The Silo where he’d have women lined up to have a crack at him.
That thought makes me absolutely sick to my stomach, and the bubbly threatens to come up. Swallowing hard, I spy Colton Stokes down below me from my perch on the second-floor landing of my dad’s house. I can’t believe he has the nerve to show up here, especially after ratting me out. He made the mistake of looking up at me with a genuine smile, and the death glare I gave him back wiped it right off his face. Since then, he’s not tried to make eye contact with me once.
My father throws a massive 4th of July party every year. Sometimes it’s at the Governor’s Mansion, but this year it’s at our family home in Jackson. Right now, most of the folks are making their way outside to the backyard, where my parents spared no expense in the fireworks display that should be starting before too long.
It makes me think of the last fireworks show I saw with Woolf in the back of my pickup.
Ugh… so not fair.
Not fair, not fair, not fair.
“Darling… let’s head down to watch the show,” I hear my mother say as her hand comes gently to my shoulder. She’s stayed out of this between my father and me, but the looks she gives me are kind and understanding. She knows me well, and knows that I have feelings for Woolf. Whether she believes I went to a sex club or not, she knows I’d never do that with a man I didn’t trust and care for.
“I’ll be down in a minute,” I tell her with a smile. “I’m going to grab a sweater out of my room.”
I didn’t need the sweater because it was fairly mild outside, but I didn’t want to be around all those people pretending to have a good time. I wanted to mope, and I figured no one would care if I just slipped away unnoticed.
My mom nods and leans in to kiss my cheek. “Chin up, sweetheart. Just give this some time.”
She pulls back, and I look at my mom intently. Pale blonde hair, dark brown eyes. She’s classically beautiful… some would say regal… but she’s always just been my mother.
“Thanks,” I tell her and watch as she turns to head down the arched stairway to the first floor.
With a sigh, I chug the rest of my champagne, almost sneezing from the bubbles that seemed to have drifted into my nose, and turn to set the glass on a small buffet table resting against the wall.
I walk to my room, loving the lightheaded feeling and hoping it will help me get a good night’s sleep. I haven’t slept for shit since my father went berserk this past weekend, and that’s due mainly to the fact that I miss Woolf. I miss working in his office at the Double J, and the way he would joke with me. That smile… his easygoing ways. Oh, and sex. I really, really miss sex with him.
As I close my bedroom door behind me, I reach behind my neck to undo the delicate, silver-chained necklace that I paired with the yellow strapless summer dress I had worn for the party. I kick off my sandals, which are white and covered with little white and yellow leather daisies along the straps. Throwing my necklace on my vanity stand, I open my wardrobe, intent on hanging my dress back up.
When the door swings open, revealing the full-length mirror attached to the inside, I give a tiny scream of fright when I see someone lying behind me on my bed. I spin around, clutching my hands to my chest, and even though my brain recognizes Woolf casually lounging, his back propped up against the headboard and his booted feet crossed over each other, my heart is still galloping away from me like an insane racehorse that’s gone off track.
“Jesus,” I rasp out. “You scared the shit out of me.”
Woolf surges off the bed, his face grim as he strides up to me. “Maybe if you’d return a fucking phone call, I wouldn’t have had to sneak in here to see you.”
“I don’t think it’s—”
That’s as far as I get before his hands are in my hair and he’s pulling my face to his. His mouth crushes down against mine, and he instantly reminds me how possessive he can be. He grips me hard, I think maybe intent on hurting me just a little, but his tongue against mine feels too damn good for me to complain. Just as my arms start to involuntarily snake up his chest, he tears free of me and pushes me away.
“Christ… you drive me fucking mad,” he grumbles as he rakes a hand through his hair in frustration. Then he immediately turns soft on me, reaching a hand back out to clasp me around the back of my neck so he can pull me into a tight hug. “Are you okay?”
My arms go around his waist because I can’t freaking help myself. He looks too good, smells even better, and my body responds without listening to that small part of my brain that says, You promised your dad you’d stay away from him.
Woolf’s arms squeeze me, and then he’s pushing me back to look at my face. “Are you? Okay?”
“Yeah… I’m fine.”
“Fuck, I’ve been so worried. When you wouldn’t return my calls, I wasn’t sure if your father sent you off to a convent or something.”
I can’t help the snort that comes out, followed by a snicker that’s completely fueled by champagne bubbles. “I think I’m a little old for that.”
“Then why the hell didn’t you return my calls or texts?” Woolf demands angrily.
My gaze immediately falls away from his. “Because I promised my father I wouldn’t.”
“Fuck that,” Woolf snarls, and then he’s kissing me again.
With a slight bend, he’s got his hands under my ass and he’s lifting me up. A quick spin and he has me on the bed. A short fall of his body on top of mine and he has me pinned.
When his lips go to my throat, I manage to whisper, “Woolf—we shouldn’t.”
He merely says, “Shut the fuck up, Callie,” and then he’s moving down my body and pushing my dress up. Shouldering his way in between my legs, he nudges them apart and with quick, deft hands does nothing more than jerk my underwear to the side so his mouth can latch onto me.
I cry out over the sensation, my hips flying off the bed as my hands slam to his head to press him down harder against me. He fucking laughs against my wet flesh, and the vibration of it along with his tongue already has me soaring high.
I guess Woolf is thinking our time may be limited, because he’s working quickly on me. I mean, who knows if my father might come looking for me with his shotgun. And oh, God… I didn’t even lock my door. My only hope is that the fireworks will start soon and drown out any more cries that pop out of me. Regardless, Woolf attacks me hard with his mouth and tongue, working my clit without mercy. He adds fingers, possibly a thumb, I’m not sure because I can’t even bear to look down at his head between my legs. It’s too sinfully sexy, so I stare at my ceiling and rotate my hips counter to his movements.
“Come on, baby,” he urges me before fluttering his tongue against me hard.
I come in a glorious explosion just as the first rocket explodes outside, lighting up my window in a red glow. Woolf continues to lick at me, growling his approval over the way I continue to buck against him in pleasure.
Finally, he rears up and starts tearing at his belt and fly. When his cock is free from his jeans just barely pushed down past his hips, he hastily grabs at my underwear and pulls them down my legs. He’s moving like a man on a mission, and he’s not going to be deterred.
Not that I would deter him.
“Hurry,” I even whisper at him and his eyes fire hot at me. He falls forward, braces one hand on the mattress, and I hike my legs up, spreading them wide with my sundress bunched all around my waist. With his free hand guiding, Woolf pushes his cock deep into me and with every inch that he covers, a long groan tears free from deep in his chest, until he’s fully seated inside me. His eyes close and he bites down on his bottom lip as he drops the other hand to the mattress.
He stays just absolutely still inside of me, seeming to fight for some type of restraint.
I hold my breath as I watch him, fascinated and amazed at this man who always seems to be so in control, looking like he’s on the verge of losing it. He feels so good inside of me. I’m utterly full and truly possessed by him.
When his eyes open, they pin me in place with a caring tenderness I had not expected after the frenzy of lust that caused him to make me come and drive deep within me in probably less than three minutes.
