Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 171 - Chapitre 180

"I don't care," I whispered, finally popping the button. The snap echoed in the silent cab, sounding like a gunshot. I slid my hand inside his waistband, my fingers immediately wrapping around the steel heat of him. He sucked in a sharp breath, his fingers digging into my hips so hard I knew there would be bruises later. "Fuck..." I stroked him once, feeling the heavy vein pulsing under my palm. He was huge, thick and hot, and he leaked precum onto my fingertips. I wanted to taste him. I wanted him to fill me up right there in the passenger seat, just like Julian had. "I want you, Damian," I breathed, leaning in to kiss his neck. "I want you to fuck me just like he did." His head fell back against the headrest, a low growl escaping his throat. "You have no idea what you're doing to me," he muttered. I smiled against his skin, then pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes. "I think I do," I said, running my thumb over the sensitive head of his cock. "You want this as m

I broke the kiss, moaning as he worked me over with his mouth. I went back to work on his cock, taking it into my mouth. I took the head first, swirling my tongue around the sensitive tip, tasting the salty precum. I swallowed him down, taking him deeper, my throat stretching to accommodate him. Damian groaned from between my legs, the vibration sending shockwaves through my body. He increased his tempo, licking and sucking on my pussy with a hunger I had never felt before. It was different with him, deeper, more intense. I pulled back slightly to catch my breath, looking down at his face buried between my thighs. His dark hair was matted with my juices, and his eyes were closed in pure bliss. I reached down and stroked his hair, then grabbed his balls, rolling them gently in my hand. I could feel them tightening with every pass of my tongue. I took him back in my mouth, this time taking more of him. I wanted to swallow him whole. I hollowed my cheeks and sucked hard, using my h

His head tilted, and his eyes flicked up to mine, in a slow, knowing grin spreading across his face. "Don't tell me you're moaning for the needle," he murmured, his thumb pressing against the tender skin near my hip. "Or is it for my hand on your ass?" My face burned. "No... I didn't..." He chuckled deeply, a vibration that seemed to travel down his chest to mine. "Don't lie, sweetheart. You're wet. And fuck, I can even smell it." I froze, my pussy throbbing harder at his words. He leaned in close, his lips brushing against my ear. "You came here for ink, but I think you want more than just my needle in you." My stomach dropped. I tried to swallow, to hold back the sounds that threatened to spill, but they came out anyway half a moan, half a whimper. "Thought so," he said, his voice low and cocky. The buzzing of the machine stopped as he set it down. The sudden silence made my pulse roar. Then, the sound of his gloves snapping off hit the floor. His hand slid over my ass, sq

He grinned, leaning over me, his tattooed chest pressed against my back. His breath was hot in my ear. "Holy fuck, I want you to remember this cock." "Messy little thing," he said. He swiped two fingers through my cum dripping from my pussy and shoved them inside my mouth. I moaned, sucking them clean, tasting myself and him on his skin. "Yeah, that's it," he encouraged, stroking his cock with his other hand. It was still hard, leaking like he hadn't just emptied himself. "Get used to the taste, bitch. You're gonna be swollen for days." Heat exploded in my chest, my pussy clenching even though it was raw and tired. I tried to move, but my legs wouldn't hold me. "I can't walk," I panted. He smirked. "I knew I fucked you the right way." He gave his cock one last, lazy stroke, groaning as another thick bead of pre-cum rolled down the head. He smeared it with his thumb and dragged it across my swollen clit, watching me jolt. "Holy fuck," I yelped, sensitive as hell. "Right?"

The doorbell shattered the Sunday night silence; the sound was sharp and intrusive against the hushed warmth of my home. I smoothed the front of my dress, a simple silk number that clung to my curves, and moved to the window to check the peephole before opening. When I swung the door open, my breath caught in my throat, not from the surprise, but from the sheer, undeniable power radiating from the four men standing on my porch. They filled the space; their frames were tall and imposing, each one was a different shade and style but united in a predatory confidence that made my skin prickle with a sensation I hadn't felt in years: anticipation. Seth was first, a dark, dangerous thing. He stepped forward, his eyes immediately sweeping over me, calculating, assessing. He was the kind of man who didn't just occupy a room; he owned it, bending the atmosphere to his will. Mark followed, younger but just as hungry, his eyes lingering a little too long on the curve of my throat. Diane came