She’s already wet, but so tight. Pushing two fingers inside of her, I stretch her until she can take three. “Your cunt was made for me to fuck,” I tell her as I drag my knuckles against her front wall.

Her grip on the edge of the table nearly slips as her pussy spasms around my fingers.

I don’t stop fucking her until her release is passed and her chest heaves for air and her face is flushed.

“Flip over,” I command her but it’s unneeded. I take the task on myself, gripping her hips and butting them against the bench.

Moving the head of my cock to her core, I press against her gently, not pushing in just yet.

A deep groan leaves me as I bend over her, my chest against her back. “You feel so fucking good,” I whisper against her and just as she lifts her head to respond, I slam myself inside of her. Every inch of me in one swift stroke.

Her mouth drops open with a scream and her nails dig into the wood. Fuck, she’s tight, so tight it almost hurts and I have to clench my jaw and force myself to slam into her over and over again.

Her small body jostles against the table and I know there will be bruises tomorrow. I’ll be a happy man if she can’t even walk.

A strangled noise leaves her as she gets impossibly tighter, cumming all over my cock.

“Jase,” she moans my name, arching her back and scratching the wood as her body stiffens with her release.

With one hand on my shoulder, keeping her arched, and the other on her hip to pin her against the table, I ride through her release, taking her savagely and with no mercy.

It’s more than just fucking her, this is about owning her and I don’t know when that happened.

She adjusts to me soon enough and my thrusts pick up, my balls drawing up with the need to release, but I can’t give in just yet.

A desperate moan, loud and uncontrolled, fills the air. In an attempt to silence it, Beth covers her mouth with both hands as I thrust again and again.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” The words leave me at the same time that I grab her arms, pulling her hands away as I continue to fuck her with a ruthless pace.

Her upper body sways with every hard push of my hips against her ass.

“I want to hear every fucking sound.” The words come out rough, from deep in my chest. “Scream for me.”


“I think I should leave.” Bethany’s cadence is soft and innocent, and it doesn’t hold any of the regret I’m sure she’s feeling.

She’s been silent since I brought her into the bedroom. Limp, well fucked, and sated.

And questioning everything.

I know the war that rages inside of her. I feel the same.

It’s not just business. And there’s no justification for the two of us being together.

She knows it. I know it. It’s easy to get lost in each other’s touch, but when it’s over, what’s left?

Beth turns in my bed, careful not to disturb the sheets to face me. Her small hand rests against my chest and I lift mine up to hers, holding her hand and bringing it to my lips so I can kiss her knuckles.

I don’t know what this is. Or where it’s going. All I know is that we shouldn’t be doing it. She knows it too.

“Do you mind if I use your bathroom?” she asks, not even looking me in the eyes.

I nod, forcing her to peek up at me, and the well of emotion I’m feeling sinks deep into the soft browns and hints of green in her gaze.

I move to lie on my back as she scoots to the edge of the bed and quietly picks up her sweater from the pile of clothes we carried in from the den. I watch the dim light kiss the curves of her body until it’s covered by the soft fabric.

Listening to her bare feet pad on the floor, then the flick of the light switch and the running water, I stare at the ceiling, knowing I need to give her an answer to her unspoken question, but the moment I do, I may lose her forever.

“You take medication?” Beth’s question brings my attention to her as she stands in the threshold of the bathroom. One hand on the door, the other on a bottle of unmarked pills.

“No,” I answer her, feeling the tension thicken.

Her weight shifts from one foot to the other. “So… you just keep your product in your bathroom then?” she dares to speak.

“My product?” I’m quick to throw off the covers and stalk toward her. My shoulders feel tense, hearing the confrontation in her voice. Maybe she just wants to pick a fight. Something she knows will end whatever it is between us and she can go back to pretending, it’s just business. Bull-fucking-shit. I won’t allow it.

Tags: W. Winters Books Irresistible Attraction Series Books Romance Books