Page 16 of Beckett the Bad Boy

In.

Out.

Slowly quickening his pace until the headboard bangs against the wall, and I slide up the bed.

Until every thick vein and hard ridge of his cock strokes each tingling inch of my pussy. The massive head battering deep.

We're both sweating. Breathing hard. Animalistic sounds rumbling between us.

Sex with Beckett is dirty and hot, slick with our desire, and I can't get enough.

“Come for me, Beth. Come for me, baby.”

I'm powerless to deny him.

My mouth opens on a silent shout as the strongest orgasm I've ever had rends me in two, and with a roar of his own, Beckett isn’t far behind me.

Just before I pass out from the pleasure, I send up a desperate prayer.

Please don't let this be all I ever get of this man.

I don't think I'll be able to survive it.

CHAPTER NINE

BECKETT

The next morning, I wake up to a cold and empty bed.

“Beth?” I ask the unusually quiet room after a night of breathy moans and sweet whimpers.

Having Beth in my bed, cuddled into me, was… different.

Amazing.

Totally addictive.

The only issue is that she's not still here. Not snuggled into my side like a warm, purring kitten.

Did she leave already?

Did she sneak out without saying goodbye?

In seconds, I’ve disentangled myself from the cluster of blankets and swung open the bedroom door, prepared to find my missing girl.

Sweatpants hang from my hips, my hair is askew, and my socked feet slip on the floor as I race downstairs to the main level.

Fuck, I didn’t even take my socks off last night?

It’s not lost on me how atypical my behavior has become.

I’ve never brought a woman home with me. I don’t spend the night either. We fuck then go our separate ways.

And I remember to take off all my damn clothes.

But Beth is unique.

She’s more than a fling.