C H A P T E R O N E

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Sweat beads on my forehead, the sheets sticking to our bodies, my hands exploring every inch of the naked, muscular body above me

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

Sweat beads on my forehead, the sheets sticking to our bodies, my hands exploring every inch of the naked, muscular body above me. Feeling the deep ridges of his abs, the way the muscles in his back flex with each thrust into my body, and then down to squeeze his tight ass, my hands riding the motion of his hips as he continue to rock into me, the headboard of his bed beating into the wall with the power of his thrusts, his dick reaching spots inside of me that have me shaking with pleasure and seeing stars.

"Bachelor!" I cry out his name, my blunt nails digging into the skin of his shoulders, back arching as he continues his onslaught of pounding thrusts, fucking me earnestly and with fervor, pushing me closer and closer to the edge of another unforgettable orgasm. The room seems to get hotter with each moan, pant and gasp for breath that escapes me, his own deep moans of pleasure in my ear, his lips on my neck, and his hands on my hips and thighs, squeezing me tight as he fucks me.

"Fuck, nigga." Bachelor moans in my ear, and from that alone I smirk, knowing that I can draw these sounds from such a street nigga—having him moaning like a bitch in my ear. I'm the one that keeps him coming back for more, even though he has a reputation for being a 'hit it and quit it' kind of guy, but here we are—in his bed for the second time this week.

"I-I'm close," I stammer out in warning, biting down on my bottom lip, and he moves to kiss my lips, but I turn my head slightly so that he meets my cheek instead. Bachelor knows the rules. This is nothing new.

A few more skilled thrusts and I'm toppling over the edge and into the orgasmic abyss, my vision blurring as my eyes shut, my body spasming, my seed released between our bodies, my legs shaking, and my toes curling as I dig my heels into the small of his back, keeping him buried deep inside.

"Shit, Emory," Bachelor moans my name, his hips rutting against me as he no doubts fills the condom, his hands gripping my thighs impossibly tight—so tight, in fact, that it hurts, but I don't mind. I revel in the pain. I get a rush out of it, and it even makes my dick throb a few more times, my cum cooling rapidly on my abdomen and chest. I think I might even feel a drop or two on my neck. Damn.

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