Normally, when men grab me by the tits, I have them on the ground with my heel on their throat in about three seconds flat. Sometimes, if I’m feeling frisky, I let them show me what they’ve got just long enough for them to realize that they’re entirely in over their heads.

Somehow, I don’t think Darcy is the kind of man who can be so easily taken down by a woman half his size. I don’t think I’m about to have him proposing marriage after thirty seconds of dirty grinding, either.

Darcy is cool. Level headed. Kind of an asshole. Might as well have the word womanizer tattooed on his gorgeous forehead. He’s the kind of guy who takes what he wants, when he wants it. Probably hasn’t ever heard the word no before in his life.

So, basically, he’s everything I want and exactly what I don’t need right now.

Darcy has big hands made for manhandling. Luckily, in the titty department I’m way more than a handful.

He knows exactly how hard to squeeze to put my body in that hurts so good territory. Once I’m there, I can’t stop thinking about where else I want him to squeeze.

Nipples.

I want his sexy, billionaire fingers pinching my nipples.

Fuck it. He’s been kissing me for less than a second and already it’s not fast enough. Suddenly, I realize exactly how my fans must feel when I’m running a show. Like they’ll do anything, pay whatever price they need to as long as it means more, more, more.

I shrug the straps of my top down off my shoulders and pull it down, bra and all, without even thinking about it. Screw business. This is desire, plain and simple. With any other man, I would argue that desire is my business, but with Darcy, we’re both misbehaving.

His tongue thrashes against mine as his rough hands kneed at my breasts. In my line of work, there’s so much looking…I have to rely on my own hands for physical stimulation. It honestly feels so fucking good to be touched for once.

My pussy totally agrees.

Darcy and I have gone from flirting around contracts to first base in a matter of seconds, and my panties are already soaked.

I arch against him, a tiny moan on my lips—but I’m not the kind of woman who’s about to whine and plead like I’m too scared to take what I want.

Fuck no. I’m hot for him, and I want it. I shove my hand down his pants and grab his big, fat, bad boy billionaire cock.

“Oh... fuck.” His lips curl against mine, halfway between an O-face and a sneer.

I squeeze the whole length of him—and that’s a whole lot of length—in my greedy little fist, relishing the feel. This is probably the first time I’ve actually heard him swear in person, I realize. That gets me off way more than it should.

I’m stroking every ounce of that cool, calm, collected facade out of him every time I move my wrist. Judging by the way he’s pinching my nipples, he’s enjoying it, too.

“You like that, don’t you?” I purr against his lips as I break away from our kiss.

“You can’t tell? Not very observant, are you?”

The back-sass is cute, but he’s out of his league. I remind him of as much with a hard, fast pump of my fist as I kiss him again. He moans so hard against my lips that I can feel the vibrations all up and down my spine.

That’s right. I’m going to reduce this cocky, sexy man to a whimpering, cum-emptied mess. He might have the upper hand in terms of status and money, but with his big, heavy man meat in my expert hand? He’s no different than any other dick I’ve conquered and claimed.

That is, until, he bites down on my lower lip and twists the rosy little nubs of my nipples so hard, I nearly come right then and there.

Oh god. He is Mr. Big.

Memories of that night just three days ago come whirling at me like a hurricane. I still can’t believe how wet he could make me with nothing more than a few words on a computer screen. I’ve been trying to wrap my head around it ever since, but no dice.

Guys message me dirty shit all the time, and it doesn’t do anything more for me than stroke my ego. If it was anyone else, I would have assumed I just got off on how much money the pervy bastard was willing to throw at me.

But that’s not it at all.

He knows it. I know it.

It’s not the money.

It’s him.

We fucking lose ourselves. I’m lapping at his tongue like an animal, our lips locked in passion. He’s doing something to my nipples with his thumbs that sends throbs of red-hot pleasure all the way down my body, directly to my clit.

My pussy is already clenching in anticipation as I stroke his cock, eager to swallow that bad boy up and squeeze the cum out of his balls until he’s totally dry—

“Wait,” I hiss against his lips.

“Why?” he growls back, kissing me even harder.

I squeeze his cock a little too hard—or maybe just hard enough—and that gets his attention.

“What’s wrong?”

I pull away, listening for footsteps. Voices. Catherine the Great, poking her nose around and wondering wherever our charming possible-future-benefactor might be.

“The other Babes,” I say. “Catherine. They’ll notice that we’re missing.”

“Ah,” Darcy says, idly rubbing my nipples between his fingers. It’s all I can do not to moan. “We might get caught.”

“Exactly,” I say. He keeps rubbing, which is so fucking distracting, I can barely stand it.

“And I don’t need—oh God, that’s really good—I don’t need the other girls walking in and seeing—”

“Their ice queen co-worker playing whore to the man who’s about to own their business?”

“More like seeing me fucking around on our business deal. Might give them the wrong idea.”

“Oh?” Darcy dips his mouth down to my earlobe. His teeth nip at his as he speaks.

“And what idea might that be?”

“That I’m trying to—fuck, that feels amazing—stiff them on this—oh my God, right there—trying to get a better deal for—mmmmmm—myself…”

“Then I’ll set them straight.”

Darcy continues to kiss and lick at my ear and neck, and I realize I have to switch tactics. Even the sound his lips make when he kisses me is a fucking eargasm.

Every time his mouth finds my skin, it makes my argument seem less and less relevant. If I don’t stop this soon, I’m going to lose my resolve altogether.

“What if Wickham walks in?”

“He’s welcome to watch. I hear he likes that.”

I can feel Darcy laugh gently against my neck.

“From what I hear, he could benefit from some pointers.”

“And if he decides he wants to have me too?”

Darcy growls, low and deep. Finally. I’ve touched a nerve.

“He can’t fucking have you.”

Fuck, I shouldn’t like that so much, but I totally do.

“You heard him earlier,” I say. “I bet he’d like to put me in my place.”

This is the point where I should be taking my hand out of Darcy’s pants. But while my brain is sending the signals, my hand is not cooperating. Like a complete traitor, it strokes Darcy’s cock again instead.

“Wickham couldn’t even put his own initials in their place in the alphabet.”

Admittedly, I giggle at that. I shouldn’t have, because now Darcy’s hands aren’t on my breasts anymore—they’re cupping my jaw in his hands.

“Cut the bullshit, Lizzie. You want this. I want this. There’s something between us that needs to be settled in one way or another. I know you can feel it too. We’re better off sorting it out now, before business complicates matters. Once contracts start rolling in and lines start being signed…” Darcy sighs, looking down at me with the utmost seriousness in his eyes. “I don’t know if we’ll get another chance.”

“Okay,” I find myself saying. “Just…let me go lock the door.”

He smiles an awful kind of smile. The kind of smile that can melt a girl’s panties right off of her and make her too ashamed to call her mother for a week after all at once.

“No,” he says. “Or is Lizzie of the Bennet Babes afraid of a little danger?”

Oh shit. I know he’s baiting me…but he’s so fucking hot. He’s hard. He’s way too fun to play with, and he’s right.

We might not get another chance.

I take the bait.

“Oh, honey,” I say, smiling up at him daringly. “Danger’s my middle name.”

He kisses me again, and there’s something triumphant about the way he does it. That’s when I figure it out. He’s self-made because he likes to win, but he likes to work at it, too. With his money, looks, and charms, other girls probably give him whatever he wants the second he asks for it. This is a challenge for him. I’m a challenge for him.

Fucking good.

Now I know he’s up for it.

“Now, get those fucking shorts off,” he growls.

His fingers hook beneath my tank top and bra where they’ve bunched up around my waist. He finishes yanking them down over my hips and I shimmy out of them until they drop down my legs and to the floor.

“Is that what you want, Darcy?” I tease, stepping out of my discarded top.

“You wanna see me totally naked for you, huh?”

“You know I do.”

His eyes hood over gorgeously. He looks like he’s about to pounce on me any minute.

Oh, yeah. I know you do.

“Sit,” I tell him, nodding to the chair in front of my computer. Like I’m ordering a trained puppy instead of a sexy, domineering billionaire.

Darcy’s net worth has more digits in it than my phone number. He probably hasn’t had to take an order since he made his first million. But against all odds—he obeys.

Fuck. He wants me bad.

And I’m going to make him pay for it. Not in money—he’s already proven to me that he’s willing to throw as much of that at me as it takes.

No, I’m going to give him something money can’t buy.

What do you give the man who has everything?

Lust. Longing.

I’m going to make sure he wants me like he’s never wanted anything else in his life.

“Get your cock out,” I tell him as I stare down at him.

“Get it out for me,” he counters, settling back into my desk chair. “I know how little sluts like you feel about handling big cocks.”

He looks so smug when he says it, I contemplate picking up my clothes and walking out then and there. It would be the ultimate alpha babe move. He’d have to sit there, flexing his thighs, trying to get his massive hard-on to take a five…or he’d have to sit there, jerking off to the thought of me, just to get a few moments of relief.

But actually, he’s right. That’s true. Sluts like me do love handing big cocks…and judging by feel alone, Darcy’s dick is something I’m gonna have to see to believe.

I bend over, resting my hands on his knees and giving him the best view of the best tits in the entire house.

“What’s in it for me?” I ask, stroking my palms up his thighs.

“I’ll fuck your mouth so hard you’ll forget which end of you your cunt is at,” he says cooly.

My cunt, to its credit, throbs disastrously, and reminds me exactly where it’s at. Forgetting right now isn’t exactly possible, considering I’m currently dripping through my panties and soaking the crotch of my shorts to boot.

“I’d like to see you try,” I say as my fingers curl around his belt buckle.

“I didn’t get to where I am today by trying, Lizzie,” Darcy says. “When I put my head to something, I succeed.”

My fingers move to the button of his slacks.

“Maybe I should give you something a little more challenging to put your head towards,” I smile, popping the button open with a flick of my fingers.

“You’ll have to be more specific, Lizzie. Are you talking about riding my face, or my cock?”

His dick is straining against the zipper of his pants so bad at this point that if I don’t undo it, I’m worried he’s going to rip right through it. For the sake of his tailor, if nothing else, I unzip him.

Holy fucking fuck.

Now there’s just his boxer briefs between his hard-on and my gaze. His dick looks even bigger unrestrained, and I can’t help myself. I yank the waistband of the boxers down, and his cock springs up at me so hard and thick and long, it nearly hits me in the fucking face.

“Yes,” I finally answer, because apparently, I can only make one-syllable words right now. “Both.”

I swallow hard, because suddenly my mouth is too wet to function. So is my pussy. I’m literally drooling for Darcy’s dick from two different holes. My whole body is hot for him, and it’s only about to get hotter.

I’ve seen plenty of man meat in my day. Unrequested dick pics. Drunken hook-ups with strangers that I’ve met in bars. Boyfriends, here and there, nothing too serious.

But Darcy’s…

I have to back away now just to take it all in. The totally gorgeous man sitting there at my desk. The totally gorgeous smile on his face as he watches me react to him.

The totally gorgeous cock that he’s currently wrapping his fist around. The most gorgeous dick I’ve ever seen.

“You look speechless, Lizzie,” he chuckles.

I narrow my eyes at him and smile fiendishly.

“Just like you’re about to be.”

I turn and walk away, even though I can pretty much feel it physically hurting every fiber of my being to tear my eyes away from that perfectly shaped, rock-hard, foot-long dick. It’s a stripper sort of walk: each foot falling directly in front of the other to emphasize the way my hips sway as I leave him behind.

“That’s clever of you,” Darcy calls out after me. “You know how attractive you look upright and in motion.”

I stop and look at him over my shoulder with sexy, hooded eyes that my fans always lose their collective shit—and their collective pay checks—over.

“If you liked that, then you’ll love this,” I say, and then I’m bent over, legs spread, back arched.

I know that from this angle, he can see just about everything—everything except for what he really wants. My shorts are short enough that the ragged hem outlines the curves of my ass cheeks perfectly. They’re just big enough that the gap between my thighs leaves little to the imagination.

Just enough to drive him wild.

“Are you pumping that huge cock of yours yet?” I ask.

Unable to help myself, I take a peek between my legs and sigh breathily.

I thought his dick was looking good right side up. Somehow, it’s even better upside down. Better yet, he’s pumping it, nice and slow, to the sight of my body, bent over in front of him.

Oh god. That’s hot. That’s way too hot.

My fingers brush up my inner thighs, and I know he’s imagining that my hands are his hands right now. Touching me softly, softly, and then—rough. Hard. Like something he owns.

My fingertips slide over the tiny strip of fabric that’s currently covering my pussy. Darcy likes that. He moans in pleasure while he watches.

Then, I steal my fingertips away, and he’s moaning in disappointment.

“You fucking tease,” he says. His voice sounds hoarse, like his throat has just gone dead dry. “I’ll make you pay for that, Lizzie.”

“I thought you were the one who likes to pay for it, Darcy.” I arch my back as I straighten again and look at him coyly over my shoulder.

“Or is this the part where you tell me I’m not like all those escorts you like to fuck?”

“You’re not,” he says.

I think of the poor girl he told to fuck off, so he could work his cock to the sight of my body and feel my heart flutter with excitement. There’s something so wrong about that, but I fucking love it anyway.

Stealing him away from another woman. A woman he paid to get him off. I bet she was hot, too. Darcy’s not the type to settle for anything less. That makes it even better.

Darcy had a warm, sexy mouth there for the taking, and he came watching me instead.

“No,” I say, turning to face him. “I’m not.”

One step forward, and I’m unbuttoning my shorts. Another and I’m unzipping them. By the third step, they’re working their way down my thighs, and by the fourth they’re practically around my ankles.

I walk right out of them and into Darcy’s eager arms.

Or, should I say, arm? I have to give the man some credit. As much as he wants to touch me, he doesn’t let go of his massive cock, either. I consider taking it from him, but—no. He can have his pleasure when he earns it.

And I’m going to love making him earn it.

I climb up onto the desk chair with him and straddle his lap. I made sure to order it extra wide so I’d have plenty of space to work with if I wanted to use it for one of my shows. Now, it’s being put to much better use.

If I wanted, I could lower myself down onto Darcy’s throbbing cock right now. Swallow him up with my pussy and leave him gasping for more.

Instead, like he’s reading my mind, Darcy slips his fingers beneath the thin fabric of my thong and flicks them between my pussy lips.

Oh god. Now I’m the one gasping.

“You’re fucking swimming in it, Lizzie,” he says, trapping my clit between his fingers.

“Your slick little cunt is betraying you, sweetheart. I think you’re done playing coy now.”

He rubs my clit with an expert precision that I’ve never experienced before. He’s driving me closer and closer to orgasm with every passing second, and he’s doing it while barely moving his wrist.

Fuck. He’s right.

Even just a few feet away from him, I have all the power. I almost have just as much with his dick in my hand. But here, on his lap, riding his fingers…

Yeah. I’m a fucking goner.

And I fucking love it.

“Oh my god,” I pant. “Darcy…babe. Harder—rub me harder! Do it! YES! YES! FUCK YE—”

Darcy’s hand clamps over my mouth as I dive headfirst into a screaming orgasm. My whole body rocks against him as I dig my nails into his shoulders. My moans, whimpers and shouts of pleasure are muffled by his hand until I’m panting. Spent. Completely fucking drunk on him and totally sex-dumb.

“Do you always scream when you come, whore?” Darcy growls. “I don’t know what that bullshit about needing to be quiet was, Lizzie. A slut like you is just begging to get caught.”

The way he’s staring up at me, for a second, I think he’s genuinely fucking pissed. He has that look to him. Like, the male equivalent of resting bitch face.

It’s probably an asset in business, probably earned him several millions of deals at business dinners and in board rooms. But now, it looks like he’s seen some unknown part of me up close and personal for the first time, and it’s displeased him somehow.

After I came so hard for him, too. Shit. What a fucking prick!

I’m just about to pick up my bra, my shorts and whatever’s left of my dignity when it happens.

He grabs my hair up in a fist, pulls my mouth back down to his level, and he kisses me. Hard. The kind of kiss you see in the movies where the music crescendos and white doves fly off into the sunset in the background.

Then, he replaces his lips with those fingers that were just stroking my throbbing, orgasming clit.

“Suck them clean,” he tells me.

I do it. I don’t even think. I just obey. I want to do what he says. It’s just like the other night during my cam show, only like, a billion times more intense. When he gets that dark look in his eyes, I want nothing more than to fucking please him.

When I’m done licking my honey off his sticky fingers, he smiles. It’s a dark smile, and fleeting, but oh my god.

Now I want nothing more than to make him smile like that again.

“I’m going to make you come for me like that again, Lizzie,” he says.

Suddenly, he shifts beneath me, bucking his hips, and I’m falling backwards. Oh god. It’s terrifying.

My stomach bottoms out and for a second I’m totally sure I’m about to crack my head on the floor. Which would be like, awkward. I’d give Darcy a lot of credit in terms of life experience, but I don’t think he’s ever had to hide a cam girl’s body before.

But Darcy, ever the gentleman, catches me. He maneuvers my body into the position he wants it in, like I’m some kind of lightweight little doll. A plaything. A fucktoy.

He positions me until I’m upside down in the sexiest headstand I’ve ever been in, with my legs hooked over his shoulders and Darcy’s lips on my inner thigh.

“Only, this time,” Darcy says, and oh fuck, I can feel his breath on my pussy while he talks. “I’m going to use my mouth.”

All I can do in response is swallow, bite my lower lip, and brace myself for a wild fucking ride.

Darcy nudges my thong to the side with his nose. That means he can smell me, I realize. He must be smelling my sopping wet pussy right now and knowing how fucking hot I am for him. As he nuzzles at my pussy lips, this theory is verified.

“Mmm,” he moans. “Fuck, Lizzie…You’re like a bottle of expensive wine.”

Darcy sucks my clit into his mouth like he’s having a taste test and I moan. Loud. There’s no big, sexy billionaire hand to stifle the sounds Darcy draws out of me now. Nope. Not even close.

Darcy’s hands are occupied with grabbing my ass, pulling my pussy closer and closer against his lips and—oh fuck.

Teasing the tight little pucker of my asshole with his fingertips. WOW. I knew Darcy wasn’t any prude. You can tell that much just by looking at him. But as far as his improvisational skills go, I’m giving him full points. Flying colors.

And then, as his tongue slips into my pussy and starts fucking it like he means it, I give him—you guessed it—another orgasm. I come hard and fast without even expecting it.

It’s like sexual whiplash. My whole body is trembling. My knees are shaking. My nipples have gone so hard I’m not sure they’re ever going to get soft like, ever again.

“AAAH!” I scream before I can stop myself.

When I do stop myself, it’s not very well. I ride out the rest of the orgasm with my lower lip between my teeth, making tiny whimpers to accompany each wave.

“You come so beautifully, Lizzie,” Darcy breathes against my quivering pussy. “So beautifully… I’d like to see it again.”

“Darcy,” I warn him.

Ever the gentleman, Darcy shrugs my legs off his shoulders and pulls me right-side up once more. Now, I’m arguably even more helpless than I was upside down. His hands cradle my back as my thighs lower my body back onto his lap…

And there his cock is. Hard as ever. Harder even, maybe. Huge. Demanding. Slick with a gorgeous pearl of precum, his big, fat cockhead pushes first against my pussy, then against my ass.

“Yes, darling?” he asks, smug as hell.

“If you make me come like that again, every person in this whole fucking zip code is going to know about it.”

Darcy smiles wolfishly.

“Maybe that’s exactly what I want.”

“Maybe you should keep better track of your promises,” I counter.

Not because I don’t want it. I want it bad. I want to orgasm against Darcy’s tongue. I want to come around his cock. I want him to make me spasm and moan with his fingers while he plows my ass with that fucking weapon he calls a dick.

That’s not it.

And not because I don’t want anyone to hear me scream. Hell. I want everyone in the goddamn state to know how hard this man makes me orgasm. I’d like the president to be briefed on the situation. The Queen of England should receive an update. I want someone to alert the UN.

So that’s not it either.

At this point, it’s not even because I’m afraid of getting caught. If Catherine the Great and the other Bennet Babes haven’t caught us in the act yet, they’re probably too busy entertaining Wickham to give a single flying fuck about what Darcy and I might be getting up to.

Either that, or they’re listening at the door…and I can’t even pretend like that’s a turn-off. We Bennet Babes aren’t exactly novices in pleasure. We know what good fucking sounds like when we hear it.

The thing is, if Darcy makes me come again—like, literally even one more time—I’m going to lose it. Every ounce of control that I have will fly out the fucking window, and I don’t know if it will ever come back.

Which means that it’s time to shift gears. Take back a little power for myself…and distract that part of me that actually wants Darcy to go full-animal on my body like some kind of sex-crazed lunatic with something else it might want.

“And what promise might that be?” Darcy asks me, his interests obviously piqued.

I smile. “I vaguely recall a certain someone promising to fuck my mouth like it’s a second cunt…Unless, of course, you’re not into that anymore or—”

“Get on your fucking knees,” Darcy growls, slapping my ass.

I’m practically purring as he helps me descend safely to the floor.

Darcy’s dick is big. Like, the kind of big you’re not sure you’ll recover from. Honestly, I’m not sure I’ll ever want to. I’ve totally braced myself for it, too. It was big when I had my hand down his pants.

I knew what I was getting myself into when I released that monster from its pants prison and it nearly bitch slapped me across my face.

But knowing, rationally, that something is big, and getting down to its level, while you try and figure out how the hell you’re going to get your mouth around it? Honey, those are two different things completely.

My first thought is wow. Oh my god. Woooooow. Wife me, big boy. Let me have your babies.

But my second thought is, that’s so not going to fit.

Lucky me, then, because Darcy believes in me even when I don’t totally believe in myself. Before I know it, he’s fisting a handful of my hair and pulling my mouth towards his massive, throbbing sex pole with nefarious intent.

When some guys say they’re going to fuck your mouth, what they really mean is they’re going to half-heartedly thrust against your tongue, until they totally lose themselves in how good that feels, and leave you to finish the job for yourself.

One look from Darcy’s gorgeous eyes and I can tell that, in true Mr. Big form, when he says he’s going to fuck my mouth, he means business.

“Stick that slutty tongue out,” he commands.

I open my mouth and let my tongue roll out until the tip of it is touching my chin. That’s when Darcy slaps my warm, wet tongue with his hard, heavy cock. My pussy throbs on impact, and then we’re off.

With a thrust of his hips, he pushes himself in. My lips wrap around him, stretching to accommodate his width. He’s not even halfway in and I’m already starting to gag on him.

I thought I’d trained that pesky gag reflex away back in college, but apparently all it takes is a sufficiently meaty dick to bring it all crashing back to me.

He pulls out just enough for me to get a nice, hard suck on his cockhead and a quick breath of air. Then it’s halfway, slamming into the back of my throat.

The next thrust feeds me three inches more. With nowhere to go but down, he takes my throat. It feels so fucking good that I moan involuntarily. The vibrations rattle up and down the length of his shaft, and right on cue, he gives me more. And more. And more.

My whole body is on high alert. I totally can’t breathe, but I’m like, so in love with it. He’s pounding away at my mouth, slamming into me so hard and fast I can’t even see straight.

All I can think is how I’ve been fantasizing about this moment since he first popped into my chat room. How I haven’t been able to get him out of my head for three fucking days, and now he’s literally inside me, using my mouth like I’m just another escort whore.

But then he pulls my head back, and from the way he’s staring down at me, I can tell that one thing has changed. He looks out of control. Totally unhinged.

Both of our chests are heaving. It feels like if one of us was to make the slightest movement towards the bed, he’d have my legs wrapped around his hips in an instant while he plows me like a highway in Canadian winter.

There’s a long string of saliva running from my lips to his huge, throbbing dick. I slurp it back up noisily as I swallow his cock again with renewed energy.

Because I’ve got him.

Because I know, no matter if Darcy has more money than any one man has any right having, I’ve finally given him something he can’t pay for.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “Fuck! God, Lizzie, give it to me. Fuck yes!”

I hum a garbled string of pleasure noises as I bob my head up and down, taking all of him in my mouth like I was goddamn born for this.

“Mmm—fuck, Lizzie. I’m so close…if you keep that up, I’m going to come—I’m going to—”

And that, dear reader—that, of all times, was when disaster struck.

“Lizzie?!” I hear a voice bellow from downstairs.

You can say what you like about Catherine the Great, but her timing is nothing if not impeccable.

I can feel Darcy stiffen at the sound.

“Lizzie…” he rasps.

I plunge my mouth back down on him again. I’m not stopping. No. Absolutely not. I’ve earned this cock, and I’m taking it.

It was Darcy’s dumb idea to leave the door unlocked in the first place. He’s not getting out of this now.

“LIZZIE!” Catherine screeches again.

“Lizzie,” Darcy echoes, gasping.

“LIZZIEEEEE!”

“Oh, fuck—Lizzie!”

He explodes on my tongue, coating my entire mouth with delicious, creamy cum. Either he’s been holding it in for a few days, or he just produces insane amounts of it on demand, because my mouth is full of it. I have to pull my head back and release his cock from my lips just to keep it all in.

As Darcy stares down at me, with some insane mixture of disbelief and admiration that I can’t imagine a man like him feels very often, I swallow it all with a smile.

We barely have our clothes back on by the time Catherine bursts in. There’s suspicion in her eyes as her gaze passes over us—but since she can’t tell that my bra is still unclasped beneath my tank top nor that Darcy’s fly is still undone, she doesn’t have a leg to stand on.

“Well, Mr. Darcy,” she asks. “Have you seen everything you need to see?”

Darcy licks his lips and looks over at me. He’s still obviously basking in a delicious afterglow. I’m just desperately trying not to laugh.

“Ah…yes, actually,” Darcy tells her. “Yes, I do believe I have.”