Novel & Cerita Knock Em Stiff Book

He grabbed my arms, turning me around fast and bending me over the living room table. My breasts pressed against the cold wood, my nipples still sticky with his cum. He kicked my legs apart, his hand sliding between my thighs, fingers brushing my wet vagina, making me shiver. I felt the head of his penis press against my entrance, ready to thrust in deep, when a loud knock pounded on the front door.

Without warning he snatched a book off the nightstand and threw it at me. It came to me instinctively. “Read this. To keep your light brain busy .Maybe teach you how to knock.” he said sarcastically, sounding far too composed for someone who had just been inside another woman. My cheeks were burning. I kept quiet and looked away angrily. Even though I wanted to throw the book at his arrogant face I held on to it tightly and turned to leave. I have to go back to my room. It's quiet and peaceful then. Now though, the quiet was painful. Breathing heavily I leaned against the door after I slammed it behind me.

I felt like he was tearing off my clothes the way his eyes studied my whole body. "Are you nervous Miss Mason? You can leave now and drop this job if you won't cooperate with me!" He behaves the same as Mr. Grey in the movie I recently in love with, Fifty Shades of Grey. He was so rude and frigid. "No, sir. I need this job! I promise not to let you down!" I beg for him and he just laughed so hard. He stood up and walked around me. My legs are sweating I swear. What if he will suddenly kiss me again and, wait, what am I thinking? I shook my head to obliterate the dirty thoughts I have in my mind.

It was truly a spectacular sight. I quickly stopped them. "Stop fighting. One at a time. There's room for everyone in my schedule." Stanley watched from behind in disbelief and gave me a thumbs-up. "Connor, I genuinely didn't see this coming. We couldn't even talk to women like them before, and now they're just throwing themselves at you." I pulled Stanley aside and whispered in his ear, "Don't be fooled by how beautiful these women are; they're actually incredibly wild deep down. As long as you're bold enough, they'll obediently spread their legs for you."

I laugh whispering. "That wasn't winding her up, if I wanted to wind her up I would simply." She looks at me, her body pushing mine back so it bangs against the side, a moan escaping my mouth as her mouth kisses my body. Her fingers rub against my sex as I moan, my hands grasping into her hair. A loud knock at the door makes me jump, what the hell is she doing? "It's time to leave now ladies, buy something or leave." I look at Analise, the woman clearly complained. The outcome would have been so different at Seductive Vibrations.

Watch out for “Striking Blow.” (Strike Zone Book #2) This is Pearl and Antonio’s story. Filled with international intrigue and subterfuge. Striking Blow Colombo. Sri Lanka. Pearl needed directions—a map—a freaking GPS back to herself. Finding her worth again meant starting with a physical transformation. For starters, the blonde princess staring back at her in the mirror wasn’t real, and it was time to pack “socialite barbie” away in a dark drawer; time to step away from the two-hundred-dollar haircut and her designer lifestyle.

"Take me in your mouth, whore" Perhaps it won't be so bad if I don't think too much about it. And so with my eyes shut and the bile heavily rising in my throat, I lean in closer to his pants…..and that's when the knock comes in. We both stiffen and my ears practically perk up like a cat's. I couldn't have heard that wrong….. could I?

He didn’t stop, licking me through every shudder until I was whimpering and oversensitive. Emmett rose, spinning me around to face the bookshelf. He pressed my chest against the rows of ancient books and kicked my legs wider. I felt the thick, blunt head of his cock nudge against my dripping entrance. In one powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt.

Not now. A knock reverberates through the house, soft but unmistakable. My whole body stiffens. That knock, too-it's so familiar. I turn to Simeon, but he seems completely oblivious to the sudden shift in atmosphere. His head is still buried in the book, wholly ignorant. I attempt to swallow the fear rising in my throat, but it just seems to stick there, thick and suffocating. My feet feel lead-heavy as I approach the door, my hand shaking toward the handle.

“Did you—did you knock?” “No,” I said too quickly. He slowly closed the book and leaned forward in his chair, rippling abdominals and pectorals glistening from after-shower steam. I averted my gaze so fast I nearly threw my neck out. This was not part of the plan. I was supposed to barge in, deliver my speech, maybe cry a little, maybe yell—but not be met with some Greek god of emotional constipation half-naked in glasses looking like a wet dream I’d masturbate to later.