Quicunque Vult by Keira Michelle Telford

Author:Keira Michelle Telford [Keira Michelle Telford]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780992011581
Google: 1NmRrgEACAAJ
Barnesnoble:
Goodreads: 25532212
Publisher: Venatic Press
Published: 2015-01-01T03:00:00+00:00

Forty minutes after departing from the teahouse, Mary Jane is inside the peephole room in the Ringers’ Buildings, cursing herself for not having requested a room in advance. This was the only one available, and now she’s on her back, her head lolled off the foot of the bed, her legs straight up in the air, and her customer—one of her specials—on his knees between them, holding onto her thighs as he hammers into her like a demented woodpecker.

On the plus side, she doesn’t have to do much. Lying still and taking it are the only real requirements of this position. Unfortunately, she’s staring upside down at the spot in the wall where the peephole is located, and she’s fairly certain they’re being watched.

She wonders who might be gawping at her right now, getting a kick out of seeing her in corset and stockings, stuck in one of the most undignified positions she’s ever found herself in, but before she can ruminate on it for too long, her customer finishes. He reaches his pleasure with one mighty thrust, promptly loses his balance and his grip of her, and shoves her completely off the bed, his spurting prick unsheathed and spraying all over her bare bum cheeks as she topples downward, hitting the floor headfirst.

Flopping arse over face, Mary Jane’s semenalized backside slaps onto the floor with a squelch, and she looks up to find his wilting cock dribbling on the counterpane, his cheeks a deep shade of red.

“Please leave.” She glowers at him, her head throbbing where she cracked it on the hardwood. “I never want to see you again.”

Shamefaced, he gathers up his clothes, leaves her sixpence extra, and shuffles out of the room before he even has his trousers buttoned up. As soon as the door’s closed behind him, Mary Jane clutches her head and curls up on the floor, waiting until most of the pain has subsided before heaving herself up, cleaning off her rear end, and getting dressed.

Upon making her exit, she creeps by the adjoining room, listening to see if there’s anyone inside. All seeming quiet, she tries the handle and peeks in, finding the room empty, but the air heavy with the lingering scent of a male in rut. More telling than that, there’s a red silk hanky crumpled on the floor by the peephole, filled with a fresh seminal deposit.

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