Chapter 452 | Don’t Waste the Inventory

Chapter 452: 452 | Don’t Waste the Inventory

He put his mouth on her.

"Ahh! Nnh, hah, oh, fuck, fuck." Her hand slammed into his hair and gripped so hard his scalp burned. "Why are you so good at this, who taught you, I’m going to find them."

He didn’t answer, mostly because his tongue was busy and partly because the honest answer involved a golden app and two weeks of homework she had personally graded. He licked a slow stripe up through her folds and circled her clit, then pressed his flat palm against her lower stomach and let the skill bleed heat into her.

Her hips bucked right off the bed. He held her down with his forearm and kept going, the wet sounds loud in the quiet loft, slick and filthy and entirely his fault. Chloe was saying something in Korean now, half of it his name and the other half words he suspected were very bad, and her thighs clamped around his ears so tight the whole world went muffled.

She came in under three minutes. He felt it before he heard it, her whole body locking up and her fingers yanking his hair toward her and her heels drumming twice against his back. The sound she made climbed higher than he had ever heard from her, a thin keening cry that cracked into sobbing breath on the way down.

He kept his mouth on her through the aftershocks, softer now, until she shoved at his forehead with the heel of her hand.

"Stop, stop, too much, I’m going to die, I’m legally dying."

Jordan lifted his head and wiped his chin on the back of his wrist. She lay there wrecked, hair everywhere, choker askew, chest heaving under the lace bra she had never gotten around to taking off. Her thighs were still trembling against his shoulders.

"Twelve minutes," he said, just to watch her face.

"Oh, you are so dead," Chloe breathed, and grabbed him by the ears to drag him up.

She kissed him hard, tasting herself on his mouth and not caring even slightly. Her hands went straight for his boxers and shoved them down his hips, and when her fingers wrapped around him he groaned into her teeth so loud it embarrassed him. She stroked him twice, long and slow, thumb dragging across the head, and he felt his vision go white at the edges.

"You’ve been hard since the desk," she said against his lips. "You just sat in that folding chair and suffered through the whole revenue split."

"Section four point two was brutal, honestly. I deserve hazard pay."

"You deserve to be ridden into the floor. Lie down."

He rolled onto his back without arguing, because arguing with Chloe was a hobby for men with more free time than he had. She threw a leg over his hips and reached behind herself to unhook the bra at last, and it slid down her arms and landed somewhere near his pillow. The orange light caught the curve of her breasts, fuller than a month ago and flushed pink across the tops, and Jordan forgot about the clock completely.

She lined him up with one hand braced flat on his chest and sank down.

"Hnnngh, ah, oh my god, it’s deeper, why is it deeper."

"Gravity. You told Kumiko that exact thing on Sunday."

"Don’t quote me while I’m, ahh, while you’re inside me." Her head fell back and her nails dug into his pecs, right on top of Kumiko’s bite mark. "Fuck, Jordan, you’re so big, I can feel you all the way up."

He put his hands on her waist and held still for her. She adjusted slowly, rolling her hips in tiny circles, breath coming out in short shaky pants that fogged against the cool air of the loft. Then she lifted up until only the tip stayed in and dropped back down, and the wet slap of her thighs against his hips cracked through the apartment.

"Ahh! Yes, oh god, yes."

She set a brutal pace after that. The bed frame started going thunk, thunk, thunk against the brick wall, and the wall on the far side belonged to Unit 403, where Kumiko was supposedly asleep upstairs with her new pink sheets. Jordan decided that was a tomorrow problem. He gripped Chloe’s hips and started driving up into her every time she came down, and the slapping got louder and wetter until it filled the whole loft.

"Harder, don’t be nice, I’m not glass, harder."

He went harder. Chloe’s breasts bounced with every thrust, and her mouth hung open, and the sounds coming out of her had stopped being words about twenty seconds ago. Sweat beaded along her hairline. The blue streak stuck to her cheek in a wet curl, and the choker had slid all the way sideways so the plum bruise sat there in full view.

He slid one palm up her spine and let the skill loose between her shoulder blades.

Chloe screamed. Her whole body bowed forward over him and her forehead crashed into his shoulder, and her inner walls clenched down so hard around him he saw stars. She was shaking and coming again, her hips jerking out of time, sobbing his name into his collarbone while he held her there and kept moving through it.

"I can’t, I can’t, you broke me, I’m broken, keep going."

"Those are two opposite instructions, babe."

"I know, I don’t care, don’t stop."

He rolled them. She landed on her back with a squeak and her legs locked around his waist immediately, heels digging into the small of his back to haul him deeper. He braced his forearms on either side of her head and looked down at her, flushed and glassy-eyed and completely undone, her mouth swollen from his and her mascara smudged into grey streaks under both eyes.

Six months of a masked girl selling a fantasy through a ring light. And this was what she looked like when she stopped selling anything.

He dropped his voice into the register she had banned in public.

"You’re mine, Chloe. Every single part of you."

The Alluring Whisper hit her like he had flipped a switch. Her eyes rolled back and her mouth fell open around a silent cry, and her whole body clamped around him from her ankles to her fingernails. He felt her pulse fluttering around his cock in hard wet squeezes, and that was the end of his composure entirely.

"Chloe, fuck, I’m going to..."

"Inside, do it inside, fill me up, please."

He buried himself to the hilt and came. Ceaseless Discharge kicked in right on schedule, and it did not care about her timetable or his dignity or the thread count on these sheets. The first pulse ripped a groan out of him that he felt in his ribs, and then it kept going, wave after thick wave, pumping deep into her until he could feel it spilling out around him and running down between them.

Chloe moaned through every second of it. Her hand pressed flat against her own lower stomach and her eyes went wide and dazed while she felt it happening from both sides.

"Oh god, there’s so much, it’s so warm, it’s still going."

"Sorry. There’s no off switch on this thing."

"Don’t apologize, just, ahh, hold still, let me feel it."

He held still. It took almost twelve seconds before the pulses faded, and by then the sheets under her hips were soaked and ruined and she was laughing in breathless little hiccups against his throat. Her legs slid down off his back and fell open against the mattress, completely boneless.

They lay there tangled together while the harbor light shifted through the windows. Somewhere on the floor next to his jeans, his phone buzzed twice against the concrete. He ignored it with the serene confidence of a man who had just made his pregnant girlfriend scream loud enough to earn a dozen more cookies.

Chloe turned her head on the pillow and squinted at the clock on his nightstand.

"You have nine minutes left on the timer," she said, still breathless. "And you’re still hard inside me."

"That’s a known issue with the hardware."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and rolled her hips once, slow and deliberate, and the wet sound made them both groan out loud.

"Good," Chloe whispered. "Don’t waste the inventory."