Page 13 of The Pleasure Contract

He was big.Sobig she thought she might come again at the thought. Deliciously hard and thick, and better still, a little bit ruthless.

“It’s been a long time,” she heard herself say as she felt his sleek muscles coil, telling her he was about to slam himself home.

And she didn’t have words to describe the look that flashed between them then. She felt it. It was like a shock wave, possessive and bright.

It almost made her come again.

His hand returned to the wall beside her head. Lachlan pushed his way inside her, waited for her to accommodate him, then thrust a little more.

So slow it became an ache. A blistering, beautiful ache.

There was nothing but the stretch and the slide. The sound of her harsh breathing and his. In the distance, she could hear traffic, reminding her that they were outside. That anyone could happen by. For all she knew, they already had an audience from the buildings up above them.

She felt herself get wetter and hotter at the thought.

Slowly, almost mercilessly, he filled her.

And when Lachlan was finally deep inside, she thought that she might burst. She didn’t want mercy. She didn’t want anything butmore.

It was the way he looked at her. It was the feel of him inside her, almost too much, so she could hardly breathe. So every breath she did take was filled with him. He wasthis closeto triggering another orgasm.

But she wantedmore, damn it. And she said so.

“Hold on,” he advised her.

And then he began to fuck her.

Sure and steady, just this side of rough.

And Bristol was coming again, or still.

It was an exquisite, prolonged shattering. It was falling from on high, over and over and over. It was everything she’d ever wanted—and far more than she’d imagined.

He was so good it was almost scary.

She held on, the wild madness of it pounding through her again and again. His cock gave her no quarter, allowed no retreat. He held her away from the wall, demonstrating far more intellectual capacity than she could access—because she didn’t care if the friction scraped her raw.

Some part of her wanted that.

Because she still wanted more. The tighter she gripped him with her thighs, with her ankles locked behind him, and the more he battered her, the harder she came.

Over and over again.

Until she thought maybe she’d fallen off the side of the world after all.

And she could feel it when, at last, he joined her, making a fierce groaning sound deep against her neck.

While she shattered all around him one final time.

She was aware of it when he pulled out, then made sure she could hold herself there against the wall. Even if she had to grip the bricks, hard, to stay upright.

Her dress fell back into place, which was good, because she understood dimly that she really ought to cover herself up in public. But she couldn’t seem to do anything but cling to the building behind her and try to hold on to the world.

And what was left of her in the aftermath.

She was dimly aware of Lachlan stripping off the condom and tossing it in one of the garbage cans across the way. Surely the tawdry practicalities should have slapped her back down to earth. Reminded her who she was—and that she didn’t do things like this.

But when Lachlan turned back toward her, Bristol felt her breath catch all over again.