the false title amused her, for she laughed, the sound light and airy and tantalizingly female. “Only just about two hours ago.” She let out a shaky breath and closed her eyes.
Gene knew she was remembering the scene in the sitting room. As much as he craved Marco’s hard muscle and manly lines himself, he felt a stab of jealousy at her expression. He didn’t want her thinking of the other agent as they made love tonight.
He brought his hand to her face and tilted her chin toward him. “Look at me,” he whispered, as he drew her in for a searing kiss. Their tongues tangled in a clash of wanton desire, the kiss deepening, ending only when they were both gasping for breath. He trailed his lips down her neck to her breasts, lapping at the nipple under her shirt. The grainy texture of the fabric over her peak drove his senses wild, and he closed his teeth over it in a gentle bite that had her writhing and arching up to him for more.
He sat back, surveying her as her face fell when his touch left her. “Keep your eyes open,” he said. “See me.” The commands left no room for defiance, and she steadied her gaze on his face when she rose from the sofa and knelt before him. Her normally stormy eyes had the look of a calm ocean on a cloudy day, and Gene could see his reflection in them mixed with the glint of the light up above.
She nuzzled the inside of his thighs, breathing deeply of him and smiling in apparent approval before taking his sac in her hand and massaging it until it tightened to a solid mass just below his jutting erection. Taking her eyes from his features for a moment, she stroked him, letting her fingers linger on the tip just long enough to spread the moisture beading there to his shaft. She teased him with a light run of her tongue up the length of him before taking him in her mouth in a smooth movement that left him lightheaded. Using her tongue on the head on the upstrokes, she moved her mouth up and down him rhythmically. He eased back to a lying position, and pleasure arrowed down his spine, intensifying when her finger found the spot between his balls and asshole, pushing it in time to her suction. He had never had such a good blowjob in his life, from a woman or a man.
“Grace, you are so beautiful. So fucking sexy.”
He buried his fingers in her hair, egging her on, setting the pace, fucking her mouth with his engorged member as release beckoned ever closer. When she slipped a finger into his hole, he groaned his passion, the sensations swirling around him, threatening to take him out to sea with them. He tried to get a grip on himself, to hold back his climax, but then she looked at him. Her beautiful, charcoal eyes, darkened with her own desire, seemed to melt, their streaks of amber entrancing him. Her look told him she was his. All his. Did she lie, or would she be his and his alone? Gene wanted that. He wanted her. All of her. No matter the consequences. The deep feelings shook him to his core as the shock of his possessiveness held him suddenly in its grip. They weren’t wanted. Gene cursed his sloppiness that he would allow such emotion to creep up on him like this. Gene Hardy didn’t bother with relationships. Gene Hardy was only in it for the sex and the money.
She hummed against his ramrod cock and pushed him over the edge. Spurts of cum shot into her throat over and over again until he was completely spent. He relaxed back into the couch, waiting for the fuzzy feeling of orgasm to flee, leaving that familiar sense of vague disgust and need to escape. But it didn’t come. Instead, as he looked at her where she knelt before him, her head nestled on his leg, licking her lips as contentedly as a cat, nothing came to him but satisfaction. He petted the tendrils of her unruly hair and breathed in the scent of cinnamon and wine on the air. And he wished her to be his.
Fear wove its way around his heart. He knew from experience that feelings as strong as the ones he was dealing
Gene knew she was remembering the scene in the sitting room. As much as he craved Marco’s hard muscle and manly lines himself, he felt a stab of jealousy at her expression. He didn’t want her thinking of the other agent as they made love tonight.
He brought his hand to her face and tilted her chin toward him. “Look at me,” he whispered, as he drew her in for a searing kiss. Their tongues tangled in a clash of wanton desire, the kiss deepening, ending only when they were both gasping for breath. He trailed his lips down her neck to her breasts, lapping at the nipple under her shirt. The grainy texture of the fabric over her peak drove his senses wild, and he closed his teeth over it in a gentle bite that had her writhing and arching up to him for more.
He sat back, surveying her as her face fell when his touch left her. “Keep your eyes open,” he said. “See me.” The commands left no room for defiance, and she steadied her gaze on his face when she rose from the sofa and knelt before him. Her normally stormy eyes had the look of a calm ocean on a cloudy day, and Gene could see his reflection in them mixed with the glint of the light up above.
She nuzzled the inside of his thighs, breathing deeply of him and smiling in apparent approval before taking his sac in her hand and massaging it until it tightened to a solid mass just below his jutting erection. Taking her eyes from his features for a moment, she stroked him, letting her fingers linger on the tip just long enough to spread the moisture beading there to his shaft. She teased him with a light run of her tongue up the length of him before taking him in her mouth in a smooth movement that left him lightheaded. Using her tongue on the head on the upstrokes, she moved her mouth up and down him rhythmically. He eased back to a lying position, and pleasure arrowed down his spine, intensifying when her finger found the spot between his balls and asshole, pushing it in time to her suction. He had never had such a good blowjob in his life, from a woman or a man.
“Grace, you are so beautiful. So fucking sexy.”
He buried his fingers in her hair, egging her on, setting the pace, fucking her mouth with his engorged member as release beckoned ever closer. When she slipped a finger into his hole, he groaned his passion, the sensations swirling around him, threatening to take him out to sea with them. He tried to get a grip on himself, to hold back his climax, but then she looked at him. Her beautiful, charcoal eyes, darkened with her own desire, seemed to melt, their streaks of amber entrancing him. Her look told him she was his. All his. Did she lie, or would she be his and his alone? Gene wanted that. He wanted her. All of her. No matter the consequences. The deep feelings shook him to his core as the shock of his possessiveness held him suddenly in its grip. They weren’t wanted. Gene cursed his sloppiness that he would allow such emotion to creep up on him like this. Gene Hardy didn’t bother with relationships. Gene Hardy was only in it for the sex and the money.
She hummed against his ramrod cock and pushed him over the edge. Spurts of cum shot into her throat over and over again until he was completely spent. He relaxed back into the couch, waiting for the fuzzy feeling of orgasm to flee, leaving that familiar sense of vague disgust and need to escape. But it didn’t come. Instead, as he looked at her where she knelt before him, her head nestled on his leg, licking her lips as contentedly as a cat, nothing came to him but satisfaction. He petted the tendrils of her unruly hair and breathed in the scent of cinnamon and wine on the air. And he wished her to be his.
Fear wove its way around his heart. He knew from experience that feelings as strong as the ones he was dealing
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