The Rose He Killed novel Chapter 156

Chapter 142: Not Running

Bella POV

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He didn’t stop. He flipped me over onto my hands and knees, yanking my hips back so my ass was high in the air. One hand fisted in my hair, the other gripped my waist, and he slammed back into my dripping p***y in one brutal thrust./

“Fuck, look at you,” he growled, watching his thick c**k disappear inside me again and again. He fucked me rougher now, hips slapping loud against my ass, balls swinging heavy against my clit with every stroke. My t**s swayed underneath me. He reached around and rubbed my swollen clit in tight, fast circles, making me moan.

“Harder,” I begged, pushing back against him. He gave it to me, pounding my cunt so deep I felt him in my stomach. My second orgasm ripped through me, p***y pulsing and squirting around his c**k. He kept fucking me through it, grunting with every thrust until my arms gave out and I face-planted into the pillow, ass still up for him.

He pulled out, breathing hard. “On top. Now.”

I climbed onto him, straddling his hips, his c**k was slick and glistening with my juices: I lined him up and sank down, taking every thick inch until my ass rested on his thighs. He filled me so full I moaned loudly.

“Ride me, baby,” he ordered, hands on my hips.

I started moving, rolling my hips, grinding my clit against his base while his c**k stretched my p***y wide. I rode him harder, bouncing up and down, my t**s jiggling in his face. He sat up, sucking one n****e into his mouth, biting just enough to make me moan. I fucked him faster, slamming down on his c**k again and again, the wet sounds obscene.

Caleb’s hands gripped my ass, spreading my cheeks as he thrust up to meet me. “That’s it-fuck my c**k just like that.”

As I rode him, I leaned forward and sucked hard on his neck, leaving a dark mark. I licked up to his ear, tracing the shell with my tongue before sucking the lobe into my mouth. Caleb groaned loud, hips bucking up into me.

Suddenly he flipped me over onto my back without pulling out. He pinned me under him, his grey eyes dark

and intense.

“What do you want?” he asked, voice rough, still buried deep inside me. “Tell me what you like.”

“Fuck you, Caleb,” I screamed, half-laughing, half-desperate as I wrapped my legs around him tighter.

He gave a low chuckle and thrust hard. “Already on it.”

I came a third time, p***y milking him tight, my juices running down his balls. He drove into me with short, desperate strokes until he groaned loud and came deep inside me, hot spurts of cum filling my cunt as he shuddered against me.

We stayed locked together, breathing hard, his c**k still twitching inside me. He kissed my forehead, my lips, my marked neck while whispering my name.

13

Chapter 142 Hol-Running

Claim

Then he rolled off me with a heavy sigh, collapsing onto his back, chest heaving. I leaned over and kissed him, nipping at his neck while my hand slid down to stroke his spent c**k.

He caught my wrist gently. “Bella… I doubt I can go again,” he said, voice hoarse and exhausted. “I’m done. I don’t want to die tonight.

I laughed softly against his skin. You won’t die.”

He pulled me closer anyway, still breathing hard, a tired grin on his face. “I’m serious. I don’t want to be the CEO who dies from excessive sex.”

We both started laughing, the kind of helpless, post-sex laughter that made everything feel lighter. It was just a silly joke between us, nothing more.

“Your shareholders would be ‘devastated,” I said.

“My shareholders would find it deeply suspicious,” he said. “James would have to release a very carefully

worded statement.”

“Mr. Black passed away peacefully,” I said, in my best press conference voice, “following an evening of.

“Vigorous negotiations,” he finished, and we both lost it again.

When the laughter settled I was lying with my chin on his chest, looking up at him. He was still catching his breath, one hand moving slowly and absent through my hair.

“Can I ask you something?” I said.

“Anything.”

“When did you know?” I said. “When did you first know that I was different from what you expected?”

He was quiet for a moment but his hand didn’t stop moving through my hair.

“The library,” he said finally.

I frowned. “What?”

“You used to read in the library on Sunday mornings,” he said. “Before I was up. I’d come down and you’d be in the chair by the window with your legs folded under you and your coffee going cold on the table because you kept forgetting it was there.” He exhaled slowly. “You never heard me come in. You were just – completely somewhere else. Completely yourself.” A pause. “I stood in the doorway more than once and didn’t announce myself because I didn’t want you to stop.”

I stared at him. “You never said anything,” I said.

“No.”

“That was – Caleb, that was months before everything happened.”

“I know,” he said quietly.

I looked at him for a long moment, feeling the full weight of that. All that wasted time. “We were terrible at this,” I said.

2.3

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