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And that does it. Something about him calling medarlingwhile holding me by the throat and fucking me with such control, and telling menotto come… sends me over the cliff.

I scream and hump the bed like a mad woman, my pussy squeezing his cock, as I implode. I’m sucked into a black hole, screaming. And when I’m spit back out, my core is spasming wildly and Harlan is grunting above me, fucking mehard.

“That was very naughty of you, Quinn,” he grunts. “Coming before you’re told…” But he sounds delighted about it.

I couldn’t care less if he’s mad, glowing as I am, trembling with aftershocks and splayed like a wet noodle beneath him.

“You want my come, Quinn?” he growls.

“Yes!”

Do I.There’s literally nothing else I want more in life right now than the feeling of Harlan Vance losing control, right in my pussy. I’m floating in euphoria as he starts to shudder, losing his rhythm.

He pants in my ear, almost helplessly, “Fuck, baby. You’re making me come so hard…”

He sinks his teeth into my neck with a growl.

I can’t even respond. I’m whirling into utter space again as my pussy clenches suddenly and hard, and he pumps into me, both of us coming. I feel the jerks, the hot pulses of his pleasure deep inside me as I groan deliriously, my pussy shuddering and pulsing right along with him.

I’m just lying here, rolling in orgasm as he comes in me.Becausehe’s coming in me.

When he finishes, he swears and sags against me.

I pant beneath him, too stunned to do a thing.

I’ve never come like that before—in response to a man coming inside me. Without any other stimulation.

I mean, he was still gripping my throat and he bit my neck… but that was new, too.

What is this black magic he’s cast on me?

I can’t even move, I’m so boneless as I drift back to earth, trying to find myself in all of this.

And when I do, I feel a strange stinging sensation, deep in my chest.

With crystal clarity, it hits me what just happened here.

I just crossed a giant, dangerous line. The one that I drew for myself when I promised myself that I’d bring him the cake, thank him for the job, let him know I wasn’t taking it, and gracefully exit his life, forever.

I promised myself that I wouldn’t keep seeing him. I wouldn’t seek him out again. And if he ever crossed my path, I’d walk the other way.

Now I’m trapped beneath him, naked, he’s still half in his suit, and his cock and his come are deep inside me.

I just leapt over the line, naked and screaming, begging him to let me come for him. Without a parachute.

Or a condom.

As he settles against me, his face pressed to the back of my neck, neither of us speaks.

I know I need to be sensible here. I can’t get confused about what this is. Because what just happened between us was sheer, horny madness.

I need to be clear with myself about what this is: hot,hotsex. And what it isn’t: a budding relationship.

To ground myself in reality, I try to remind myself what’s important. The only things that truly matter. Mom, and our bakery dream.

I can’t get distracted by a man.

Especially not one like Harlan Vance.