more beautiful like this. He didn’t think he could wait another second to have her.
He kicked open the door. Three paces and he laid her down on his bed. She leaned up on her elbows, completely naked. He zoned in on her tiny curved breasts, pink nipples erect and inviting. His hands fumbled like a teenager with his belt, his fly, his shirt buttons.
Her chest heaved up and down with hard, shallow breaths, then she kneeled up and grabbed at his shirt, hauled at it. Kissed him.
‘Back in the game— Hurricane .’
Sweat beaded between them—he didn’t know from whom. They made noises … breathed and gasped and murmured each other’s names. She was licking at his nipples, her fine little fingers running over his flesh, tracing the fresh scar that had begun to bleed.
‘Oh, my God—did I do that? I’m sorry. ’
He kicked off the last of his clothes, pulled a handful of condoms from the drawer and scattered them on the bed.
‘Doesn’t matter. Come here. Lie down.’
He grabbed her by the wrists and held her as he kneed her legs apart and then tipped her down.
She strained, held herself taut as he positioned her. Her eyes were on him. His erection. He was so swollen it stood proud, huge, and just the sight of her staring made him nearly lose his grip.
‘Rocco, my God … my God.’
She leaned up, licked her wet lips and raised her eyes to his. He felt like a god. She did that to him.
His fingers peeled a condom packet apart and she reached to take the condom out. Then she cupped his straining sac and began to roll it delicately. Too delicately.
He’d had enough. His control was shot. He couldn’t wait any more.
He shook his head. ‘Lie back. Let me do this, Frankie. Come on, hermosa. Come on .’
She did as she was told. But her eyes drank him in. Every part of him.
Finally he was just where he wanted to be, leaning over her as he’d wanted, as he’d imagined. Finally he was getting to hold her under him and nudge the tip of his shaft inch by inch into her hot, sweet heaven.
She was so slight, so slender. But so ready. And even if he’d had an ounce of self-control left—even if he’d wanted to take it slowly—she had other plans. She slid down to meet him, her eyes never leaving his even as her body took him in and her hands smoothed their way around to his backside.
And he slid home.
The strain not to take her hard and fast nearly broke him, but he lifted her hips and took it as slowly as he could. He felt her fingers frame his face … looked down, opened his eyes. She was staring with those huge eyes, deep and dark and so full of secrets. She licked her lips and drove him on with her hips. Her breasts jiggled as he thrust into her and he knew then that this was the most erotic experience of his life.
‘Rocco, baby, this is too good … too good.’
She squeezed her hips even more, and just the perfect tilt of them sliding together nearly killed him. She called out to the day-brightened room as she lost it. He was losing it with her. This was it. The wait was over.
He grabbed her wrists with one hand and pinned them above her head, held her down. Then he threw each of her legs round his waist and hauled her by her hips as close as he could get her. She curled back on the bed, for once his supplicant, and he leaned over her, stared into her and ground himself free.
Released.
It was immense.
He came and didn’t stop coming. And she was there, squeezing him home.
Cradling her in his arms, he rolled over and spread her like silk over his body while he crashed back down to earth. His heart hammered and his vision struggled to return. The edges and curves of the white plaster cornice slowly took shape around the dark grey ceiling high above him. The blackout blinds were high on the windows, letting in the morning’s brightness.
It was days since he’d been here. Weeks, maybe even months since he’d had a woman here. And he’d never, ever had a girl like Frankie here. Anywhere.
He kicked open the door. Three paces and he laid her down on his bed. She leaned up on her elbows, completely naked. He zoned in on her tiny curved breasts, pink nipples erect and inviting. His hands fumbled like a teenager with his belt, his fly, his shirt buttons.
Her chest heaved up and down with hard, shallow breaths, then she kneeled up and grabbed at his shirt, hauled at it. Kissed him.
‘Back in the game— Hurricane .’
Sweat beaded between them—he didn’t know from whom. They made noises … breathed and gasped and murmured each other’s names. She was licking at his nipples, her fine little fingers running over his flesh, tracing the fresh scar that had begun to bleed.
‘Oh, my God—did I do that? I’m sorry. ’
He kicked off the last of his clothes, pulled a handful of condoms from the drawer and scattered them on the bed.
‘Doesn’t matter. Come here. Lie down.’
He grabbed her by the wrists and held her as he kneed her legs apart and then tipped her down.
She strained, held herself taut as he positioned her. Her eyes were on him. His erection. He was so swollen it stood proud, huge, and just the sight of her staring made him nearly lose his grip.
‘Rocco, my God … my God.’
She leaned up, licked her wet lips and raised her eyes to his. He felt like a god. She did that to him.
His fingers peeled a condom packet apart and she reached to take the condom out. Then she cupped his straining sac and began to roll it delicately. Too delicately.
He’d had enough. His control was shot. He couldn’t wait any more.
He shook his head. ‘Lie back. Let me do this, Frankie. Come on, hermosa. Come on .’
She did as she was told. But her eyes drank him in. Every part of him.
Finally he was just where he wanted to be, leaning over her as he’d wanted, as he’d imagined. Finally he was getting to hold her under him and nudge the tip of his shaft inch by inch into her hot, sweet heaven.
She was so slight, so slender. But so ready. And even if he’d had an ounce of self-control left—even if he’d wanted to take it slowly—she had other plans. She slid down to meet him, her eyes never leaving his even as her body took him in and her hands smoothed their way around to his backside.
And he slid home.
The strain not to take her hard and fast nearly broke him, but he lifted her hips and took it as slowly as he could. He felt her fingers frame his face … looked down, opened his eyes. She was staring with those huge eyes, deep and dark and so full of secrets. She licked her lips and drove him on with her hips. Her breasts jiggled as he thrust into her and he knew then that this was the most erotic experience of his life.
‘Rocco, baby, this is too good … too good.’
She squeezed her hips even more, and just the perfect tilt of them sliding together nearly killed him. She called out to the day-brightened room as she lost it. He was losing it with her. This was it. The wait was over.
He grabbed her wrists with one hand and pinned them above her head, held her down. Then he threw each of her legs round his waist and hauled her by her hips as close as he could get her. She curled back on the bed, for once his supplicant, and he leaned over her, stared into her and ground himself free.
Released.
It was immense.
He came and didn’t stop coming. And she was there, squeezing him home.
Cradling her in his arms, he rolled over and spread her like silk over his body while he crashed back down to earth. His heart hammered and his vision struggled to return. The edges and curves of the white plaster cornice slowly took shape around the dark grey ceiling high above him. The blackout blinds were high on the windows, letting in the morning’s brightness.
It was days since he’d been here. Weeks, maybe even months since he’d had a woman here. And he’d never, ever had a girl like Frankie here. Anywhere.
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