Chapter 898: Chapter 898 Cricket
Ross fucked her through the orgasm, his cock pounding harder, stretching her trembling pussy, forcing her to take more even as she cried out in pleasure and shame.
By the time the orgasm faded, Sarah was gasping for air, her body shaking uncontrollably.
Yet even then, Ross’s relentless thrusts told her one undeniable truth—he wasn’t done with her yet.
"Ahhhhh..."
"Ohhhhh..."
"Ughhhh..."
Sarah was grunting and moaning in waves of uncontrollable pleasure, her cries echoing through the chamber as Ross took her over and over again.
Her body shivered each time he entered her, her legs buckling under the sheer force of his thrusts, yet Ross never slowed.
His stamina was monstrous, his pace merciless, and his creativity boundless.
He wasn’t just fucking her on the bed. He claimed her everywhere.
He pinned her against the wall, her nails clawing helplessly at the wood as her voice cracked from screaming his name.
He bent her over the table, scattering dishes and glasses as he drove into her until her knees gave out.
He carried her to the tub, the water sloshing wildly as his hips slammed against her ass, making her cry out louder with every stroke.
And when he finally pulled her into the shower, hot water poured over her trembling body, masking her tears of shame even as she moaned in bliss.
Ross didn’t stop.
Hours passed, each one blurring into the next as Sarah’s orgasms stacked on top of one another.
She lost track of time, lost the ability to even form words.
Sometimes she begged him to stop, sometimes she begged him to go harder.
Her voice broke into sobs of pleasure, her body betraying her again and again as wave after wave of ecstasy consumed her.
He flipped her, twisted her, lifted her, fucked her in every position imaginable.
His hands never stopped touching, squeezing, spreading her wide.
His cock never lost its monstrous hardness, slamming into her until she could no longer tell where her body ended and his began.
Every hole of the room became their stage, every corner a place where Ross left his mark inside her.
By the time dawn threatened to rise, Sarah had lost count of how many times she came.
Her legs no longer obeyed her, her voice had grown hoarse, and her once-proud resistance had been ground into ashes.
Finally, after nearly seven relentless hours, her body gave in.
Spent and trembling, she collapsed into Ross’s arms, her last thoughts before sleep a chaotic blur of guilt, shame, and the terrifying truth of how much she had enjoyed it.
But outside, the world had gone on undisturbed. Nobody suspected a thing.
Ross had been careful. Before whisking Sarah away, he had conjured perfect clones of them both—illusions that mingled effortlessly with the other party guests.
Those clones laughed, danced, and held conversations as though nothing were amiss.
Not a single guest questioned their presence, and the party went on without a hitch.
In truth, while those illusions played their part, the real Ross had been fucking Sarah senseless all night long, claiming her body with every ounce of his strength until she had no choice but to surrender to him.
Nobody knew. Nobody even imagined.
By the time Sarah drifted into an exhausted sleep, the world outside still believed she had simply enjoyed the festivities like everyone else.
Only she and Ross knew the truth—that her world had been utterly overturned in a single night of forbidden lust.
***
"Hmmmm..."
Sarah woke up at noon, the sunlight spilling across her face like a soft caress.
Her body felt strangely light, her limbs loose, and for the first time in years she realized she had slept without stirring, without a single nightmare or restless thought.
It was, without a doubt, the best sleep of her life.
A smile tugged at her lips, unbidden. But it lasted only a heartbeat.
The moment the haze of drowsiness cleared, memories of the night before slammed into her like a crashing wave.
The way Ross had taken her again and again, the way she had screamed for him, begged for him, the way she had betrayed everything she thought she was.
"Ohhh..." she moaned softly, burying her face in her hands.
It wasn’t just disbelief—it was shame, fear, and something even more dangerous: the echo of pleasure still humming in her body.
She forced herself to turn, dreading what she might see.
And there he was—Ross Oakley, her boss, her temptation, her downfall—sleeping soundly beside her.
His chest rose and fell with a steady rhythm, his expression calm, almost angelic, as though he hadn’t spent the night devouring her body until she collapsed.
Sarah’s heart hammered wildly.
She didn’t know what to say, didn’t even know what to feel.
All she knew was that she couldn’t stay. Not like this.
Not with him so close, not with her body still aching for more.
Moving slowly, carefully, she slipped from the bed.
The cool air brushed her bare skin, making her shiver.
She tiptoed across the room, gathering her scattered clothes with trembling hands.
Every creak of the floorboards sounded deafening to her ears, but Ross didn’t stir.
Her fingers fumbled with the buttons of her dress, the fabric clinging stubbornly to her damp skin.
Finally, she managed to cover herself, though the shame refused to be hidden.
Taking one last glance at the man sprawled across the bed, Sarah’s throat tightened.
She wanted to say something, to curse him, to thank him, to do anything other than flee.
But no words came. Only silence.
With a deep breath, she slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her with the gentlest of clicks.
Little did Sarah know that this was only the beginning.
The night she thought of as a mistake, as a one-time lapse in judgment, was merely the spark.
A spark that would ignite into a blazing, all-consuming fire—her forbidden romance with Ross Oakley, her big boss, the man who had already claimed her body and would soon entangle her heart.