Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“You’ll do just fine, Mr. Tudor. As I was saying, just a quickie.”
“Just getting you off.” I quietly unzip my trousers to free my cock. I never break eye contact so that her mind is too consumed with thoughts of coitus and not the chauffeur or Burt.
“All the desire raging inside of me, Little One, reflects perfectly in your eyes. I’m duty bound to relieve the ache you have, right here.” I line the head of me along her slick slit.
Luxury sacrifices more of herself to me, gorgeous body twisting into an erotic arch, arse tipped onto the edge of the seat. As Luxury speaks, her breath whispers across my skin. “A little deeper.”
Rubbish, I’ll give you more than a little, Lux. Between one heartbeat and the next, I’ve impaled her, cock diving deep into her core.
Teeth scrape over my shoulder, followed by a subdued rebuff. “Vic, shhh . . .”
My hand cups her arse through her skirt, and I nip at her bottom lip, soothing the tender flesh with a lick. “You, shush. You’re literally moaning. I’m not.”
Luxury extracts her teeth from my shoulder. “Kiss me, Victor. Help me shut up.”
“You’re mad, woman,” I whisper pointedly.
“You created this.” After a breathy laugh, her lips find mine, arse falling from the edge of the seat.
My tantalizing assault of her mouth and her pussy causes her to shy away from my kisses. She returns to favoring my flesh with her teeth. A feral bite follows every other nip along my skin as another orgasm overthrows Luxury. Her eyes catch mine, pleading me to cum, then one of her hands reaches out. Her palm brandishes the window. Those innocent brown jewels darken, cursing me for pumping her cunt, rougher, harder, driving fucking deeper into her.
I surge deep inside of her, not able to contain my possessive passion. My driver is too fucking close to us, and I swear I’ll have the lives of everyone he bloody ever loved if he so much as looks in the rearview. Burt too. I’m reeling with a need to claim every part of Luxury.
The hand that attempted to clutch, claw, and grapple the window flies over her lips as Luxury gives an erotic grunt. “Vicccc, you’re killing me.”
“Tosh, Little One, I’m reviving you.” I place a hand between us.
Wildfire lights her gaze. “You wouldn’t.”
“You’ll love it.”
“Donnnnnn’t . . . please don’t . . .” she implores in a subdued voice.
Luxury’s body betrays her as my finger finds her clit. An ocean of juices coats my hand as I lightly pinch her button.
“I. Hate. You.” Luxury’s screams fill the car.
Thumb circling her engorged clit, I release her from the torture, pounding her cunt relentlessly. Her body arches, a vice for my leverage. My tongue dips inside of her minty mouth. I dominate the orgasm that’s rising and threatens to tear her to shreds. I fill her to the hilt with my hard shaft. I fuck her harder, egged on by the verbal assault.
Once she’s detonated over and over again, my hand claims her throat. My cock shoves her over the edge of another climax and me along with it.
Luxury’s head falls back. I release her. Ecstasy washes over her face as her lashes flutter closed. She’s become the epitome of intoxication, causing me to kiss her once more before sliding her dress down perfectly and fixing my suit.
I take a deep breath as Monica’s question from earlier today worms its way into my mind. “Now, Victor, please clarify. Are you referring to home as in Arlington or Somerhaven?”
Somerhaven?
Arlington?
About twenty minutes later, the fertile landscape parts in a shroud of vibrant green trees that meet in an arch over the road, leading to Tudor estate. The interweaving of the Somerhaven coat of arms is on either side of the wrought iron gates. Next, there are redcoat guards.
“Hey! Hey!” Luxury pops up at the last minute and waves as we pass by, energy fully restored. “Vic, why’d you let me doze?”
Luxury shifts around in her seat, looking at the forest that now surrounds us.
At the center of the wooded area, a stony castle emerges. Luxury yelps. “Oh, wow, just wow!”
She digs around in her purse and pulls out her mobile. As the Rolls-Royce Phantom rounds a stone fountain, she’s already snapped a hundred photos. She opens the door before the car can lurch to a stop.
Luxury brushes imaginary wrinkles in her skirt and then turns back to me. She still seems eager to survey the grounds. “I’m hyperventilating, Vic. You really are . . .”
“That I am, Little One.” My palm brandishes the small of her back as housekeepers create a line across the porte cochère. I start introducing her to the lot of them when she steps forward, glowing like Aswan, Egypt on the longest day in the year.