Owned by the Bad Boy(8)

By: Vanessa Waltz


The chair rolls back as he stands up, using my hair as a leash as he digs his hips in. I take him in, running my other hand up his leg. His balls are drawn up and tight. He’s going to come.

I hear it in his breathing, too. It’s deep and he makes angry, guttural sounds. Then he closes his mouth, fucking me hard, and I feel it happen. His cock swells and warm, salty cum fills the back of my throat. He moans and pulls back, more cum filling my mouth. I swallow it down as he pulses his hips, letting out shuddering gasps.


God, this is fucking hot.

He pulls out as the last tremors shake through his legs, and then he grasps my arms.

“Stand up, baby. It’s your turn.”

He pulls me to my feet and draws me in for a kiss. I keep my mouth closed, but he forces it open with his tongue.

My cheeks flush, and I pull back. “Don’t! It’s dirty.”

“I don’t give a shit.”

He pushes me gently so that I lie with my back flat on the desk. His body follows me as his fingers find my swollen pussy and push through, arching inside me.

The air breaks with my moans.

“Since you took your punishment like a good girl, I’ll let you come.”

He breathes inches from my face before crushing his lips against mine again. The fingers twist, fucking me hard. They pull out and spread my wetness all over my nub, and then they dive back in. He pulls back, his lips swollen from kissing me, and then he disappears for a moment.

Hot air billows over my pussy, and then I feel his thumbs spreading me open as a hot, eager tongue slides over my clit.

“Oh my God!”

He laughs into me and gives my thigh a little slap.

Please, God, don’t stop!

He doesn’t. Luc leans in, burying his dark head between my legs. His hot mouth is like a furnace. A singe of pleasure hits my core as his lips close around my clit. The slight pull of his mouth, his tongue lazily sliding up and down, swimming in my juices—it’s too fucking much. He puckers his lips and kisses me, and his fingers fuck me.

I twist on his desk, the ceiling rolling above me. This feels—I can’t even explain it. Luc’s head lifts, his face full of savage triumph. No one’s ever touched me like this—known where to touch me to make me feel this way. Full of wild laughter, he kisses my pussy again.

“Come for me. Do it.”

I’m close. So close.

He leans over me, hand still thrusting between my legs. A surge of energy roars through my limbs and I grab his shirt, yanking his face down toward me. My tongue slides over his lips right before I kiss him, tasting myself. A burning-hot sensation balls up in my pussy, growing with every wet thrust. His lips take me just as roughly as his hands—I’ve never felt anything like this before.

Then he speaks again, and his tone is soft. “Come for me, baby.”

I unravel in his arms, screaming to the ceiling before he laughs and swallows my moans. I clench hard around his fingers and feel the wave crash around me, liquefying my strength. Luc kisses me over and over, as if he’s enjoying a second orgasm. Thick arms move behind my head and legs, and he carries me as he sits down in his office chair. My arms wrap around his neck, kissing that gorgeous mouth of his, feeling like I can’t get enough of him. His eyes linger on mine when we pull away, and I wonder if he’s feeling this, too.

“Why didn’t you fuck me?”

“The night’s not over yet.” His lips tug. “I’m not nearly done with you.”

The shitty thing about orgasms is that after the glow, all your problems come back. I think about being fired from the assistant job. The bills piling up distract me so that I can’t feel the warmth from his hands as he strokes my leg.

“I should go—”

His arms go rigid, trapping me. “I told you I wasn’t done with you.”

A shiver runs through my body. “I have work tomorrow.”

Do you still?

I rip myself from his arms and stand up, looking around at the evidence of our one-night stand. An incredibly hot, foolish one-night stand.


Luc stands up as I pick up my discarded thong. “Hey—what’s the matter?”

“I have to go!”

A firm hand grabs my wrist, and he whirls me in his grasp so that I’m face-to-face with his heated eyes. “I want you.”

“But my job—”

“Fuck your shitty PI job. I’m taking you out to dinner.”

For a moment I just stare at him in shock. “You want me to go to dinner with you? Why?”

“I want you.”

“Yeah, but—” I sputter. “You could just take me to your place, if you want. It’s not like I have a choice.”

He winces at that. “Do I look like a scumbag?”

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