Page 67 of Stay Toxic

The story’s simple, and incredibly easy to set up. The newspapers eat it up like hotcakes.

A disgruntled bodyguard, fired after twenty years of loyal service, kills his former employer before shooting himself. Said employer was in the middle of a drug-infused tryst with her long-term secret lover, a married man to boot.

Too bad, so sad.

Given the nature of the crime of passion, the press can’t help but wonder if Joseph Layton actually used to be Senator Cole’s lover too, and proof would soon be fed to them.

No one will bother to look further, especially after finding the confession from the very dead murderer, in the form of a letter of apology sent to his mother.

That’s not the story I’ll tell Hestia over breakfast, though.

29

I’m addicted to Sebastian’s bed. It’s a lot more comfortable than mine, and it fits the two of us. Plus, as much as we both enjoy being watched, there’s something to said for having a little privacy. Especially for trying new things.

“It’s not going to fit,” I grunt.

I’m not sure I would have said yes if he’d asked back in the dorm, but up here, at the top of his tower, it’s just us.

“It will. You just need to relax.”

His hand runs along my back, his cock pressing in with shallow thrusts.

I don’t know what got into him tonight. He woke me up by licking me out and he’s been relentless since. And after making me scream his name twice, he pulled me to my hands and knees and asked for this. The head of his cock is pushing against the tight ring of muscle that has never been breached and I’m not going to lie: it feels pretty awesome. But I seriously doubt I can fit more of him, no matter how much lube he lathers himself with. He has a huge fucking cock.

Sebastian’s fingers find my clit and rub it as he kisses my shoulder, pushing in more.

Fuck, it feels pretty amazing, and I’m dripping all over his sheet.

“Relax. Your ass could take a fucking fist, pervert. You just have to let it happen.”

I try to do just that, and holy fuck. While my muscles give in a little, he thrusts forward and I fall to the mattress, so full and overwhelmed.

“That’s it. Just a little more.”

I feel like my muscles have given up now, abandoning all thought of barring him when he feels so good. Sebastian dives all the way in in one smooth move, and both of us scream, grunt, and pant. My ass lifts to give him a better access; his pushes fast and hard and wet, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh wildly filling the air, along with the stench of sex.

“I’m not—oh, god, I’m not gonna last,” he grunts, never stopping.

“Me neither. Don’t try. I’m gonna—oh, fuck! Fuck!”

I’ve adored every single time we had sex, but this is different. It’s bestial, wild, downright filthy. And I love it.

There’s no stopping the onslaught of pleasure; I fall. I fall, hard, and Sebastian keeps fucking me through it, until he comes inside me with one last grunt, burying himself to the hilt and flooding my insides with heat.

I can’t move, and nor does he. I feel his heart beating wildly behind my back.

And then we’re both asleep.

* * *

I wake up after him that morning, finding him in that armchair again, watching me.

“We’ve gotta talk.”

I wince. “Not what a girl wants to hear first thing in the morning.”

Especially not after getting fucked within an inch of her life.