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I didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer. The truth was too complicated, too
raw. Because we’re both too fucked up to let go, even when we should.
Instead, I let him guide me to the bedroom, our bodies tangling
together on sheets.
He stripped off his clothes impatiently, revealing his muscular body.
His cock stood rigid, thick and intimidating. My mouth watered at the
sight despite myself. His touch was expert, practiced–he knew every
sensitive spot on my body, every way to make me gasp and arch
beneath him. Bastard knows my body better than I do.
His fingers slid between my legs, finding me embarrassingly wet.
“Always ready for me,” he growled, circling my clit with deliberate
pressure that made my hips buck. “Always so fucking wet.”
And damn me, I responded. My body had always been a traitor where
Drake was concerned. Even as my mind rebelled against his control,
my body surrendered willingly, eagerly. He pushed two fingers inside
me, curling them against that spot that made stars explode behind
my eyelids.
“Drake,” I gasped, my back arching off the bed. “Fuck, don’t stop. God,
right there.”
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Rage and pleasure twisted together inside me. I hated him for having
this power over me, hated myself more for letting him. But holy shit,
did it feel good. My body was already trembling, already climbing
toward release.
Sophia’s words from our last coffee shop conversation floated
through my mind: “You know, in bed, the one with the power isn’t the
one on top–it’s the one who can make the other lose control.
I’d laughed it off then, but now…
As Drake’s mouth worked its way down my body, licking and biting at
my nipples through the apron, then moving lower, I realized
something. In one week, our contract would be over. I would never
have to see him again.
So why not enjoy these last moments? Why not take what pleasure I
could from them?
Fuck it. Let me have this.
I twisted suddenly, flipping our positions so that I straddled him.
Drake’s eyes widened in surprise, then darkened with lust as I leaned
down to kiss him, my hands exploring his chest, tracing the hard
muscles beneath his skin.
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“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice rough.
“Taking what I want,” I replied simply. “For once.”
And I did. I took control, grinding myself against his hardness, feeling
the length of him slide against my wetness. I reached between us,
positioning him at my entrance, then sank down slowly, taking him
inch by agonizing inch until he was fully seated inside me.
“Fuck,” I breathed, feeling stretched and filled. “God, you feel good. So
fucking good.”
Drake’s hands gripped my hips hard enough to bruise, but I didn’t
care. I set the pace, rising and falling on his cock, watching his face
contort with pleasure. My clit rubbed against him with each
movement, sending jolts of electricity up my spine. For once, I wasn’t
Drake’s assistant or his secret omega or his convenient outlet–I was
just a woman taking her pleasure.
I leaned forward, letting him suck my nipples through the ridiculous
apron, the fabric adding a tantalizing friction. The angle changed,
hitting that perfect spot inside me, and I moaned shamelessly.
“That’s it,” Drake growled, thrusting up to meet me. “Take what
want, Elsa. Show me how much you need this cock.”
you
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His crude words sent another rush of wetness between us, making our
movements slicker, faster. I could feel my orgasm building, that
familiar tightening deep inside.
“I’m close,” I panted, moving faster. “Drake, I’m gonna–fuck, I’m
gonna come.”
He flipped us suddenly, pinning me beneath him, driving into me
with hard, deep thrusts that had me seeing stars. “Come for me,” he
commanded, his voice pure alpha. “Now.”
My body obeyed instantly, clenching around him as waves of pleasure
crashed over me. “Fuck! Drake!” I cried out, nails digging into his back
as he continued to pound into me, drawing out my climax until I was
trembling and oversensitive.
“That’s it,” he growled against my ear, “Give me everything, Elsa.”
He followed moments later, his rhythm faltering as he buried himself
deep inside me with a guttural groan. I felt his release, hot and
pulsing, filling me completely. For a moment, the world narrowed to
just this–our bodies joined, the shared pleasure, the momentary
peace.
When we finally collapsed, spent and sweating, I felt something close
to peace.
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Drake pulled me against his chest, his breathing still uneven. “Where
did that come from?” he murmured into my hair.
I smiled against his skin, a secret smile he couldn’t see. “Just enjoying
what time we have left,” I answered truthfully. “Might as well make
the most of it, right?”
Cedella is a passionate storyteller known for her bold romantic and spicy novels that keep readers hooked from the very first chapter. With a flair for crafting emotionally intense plots and unforgettable characters, she blends love, desire, and drama into every story she writes. Cedella’s storytelling style is immersive and addictive—perfect for fans of heated romances and heart-pounding twists.

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