The Fall of Bradley Reed (Seasons of Revenge, #3)

by Morgan Elizabeth

“I want your cock, Andre. Please, god, come in here.” “Not this time.” It’s a dangerous thing to say, even at the moment, because Olivia misses nothing. But I don’t know if I can deny there will be a next time. “This time, you’re going to ride your fingers in my bed and come saying my name.” Another frantic moan and I dig the hole deeper. “When you’re done, Olivia, I’m going in the shower, and I’m going to jack myself off thinking of fucking you. I’m going to come thinking about filling your tight cunt.” She mewls at my words, panting. “Do you like that, Olivia? The idea of me claiming you with my cum? And when I’m done, I’d go down to your cunt and stuff it back in when it slides out, make sure you get all of me, that you keep it inside for as long as possible.” I’m sick. I’m a sick fuck and I’m going to Hell. But she doesn’t seem to care. “Oh god, oh god.” She moans, and I picture her hips rocking, her fingers fucking herself as her back arches in my bed, naked except for that shirt pulled up to her armpits, her full tits bouncing with each movement. “My name,” I growl. “My fucking name is what you say when you come, you hear me, little menace?” “I’m . . . I’m so close.” She moans again, and I can hear it in her voice, the edge she’s riding. “That’s it, Olivia. Come for your man. You’re mine, and I’m telling you to come; now do it.” She doesn’t speak for long moments, moments where I think I overstepped, but then . . . “Andre!” she shouts, a scream of epic proportions fi...