Draven’s hand stayed firmly over Elowen’s mouth, muffling the sharp gasp that tried to escape as Victor’s voice crackled through the speakerphone. His c**k throbbed deep inside her, thick and insistent, stretching her sore walls with every subtle roll of his hips. The dual torment of fear and filthy pleasure made her head spin.
“Calder, I swear to God,” Victor snarled through the phone, his tone edged with barely contained rage. “If you’re playing some twisted game with my company, I’ll bury you. What the f**k did you mean by ‘too late’?”
Draven’s grey eyes gleamed with dark triumph as he stared down at Elowen. Slowly, deliberately, he dragged his c**k out until only the swollen head remained inside her, then slammed back in with a powerful thrust. Her eyes rolled back, a strangled moan
