Page 51 of Lorenzo

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“Fuck, your pussy is like a vise around my dick,” he ground out, trying to get my pussy to release him as I rode out the wave. When I finally did relax, he released my legs and lifted me off the bed. My legs wrapped around his waist as he slammed me against the wall and continued to fuck me wildly. His mouth slammed down on mine as his tongue thrust in time with his dick. His hands gripped my ass, holding me up as he took what he wanted and I eagerly gave it to him.

I didn’t know how long he could continue or how much longer my body would last. I’ve cum so many times, I’ve lost count. His hunger was ravenous, as he continued to plunder my body, taking everything from me and demanding more and when he moved us back to the bed, his wicked smile practically knocked the air out of my lungs as he laid back on the bed, with me straddling him.

I didn’t know what to do. I knew of this position. I’ve read the books. A lot of books but that didn’t make me proficient. Unsure what to do, I looked down at him when he whispered, “Ride me.”

Yeah, like that helped.

I’ve never even been on a horse!

Not one to back down from a challenge, I moved slowly at first. I quickly found a rhythm and rode him for all he was worth.

And dear God was he worth a lot.

Watching him, watching me as if he had all the time in the world, was intoxicating as he gave over control to me. Yet, when I started to furiously grind my hips on him, a deep, guttural, animalistic sound emerged from his chest. Gone was the playful lustful look in his eyes, only to be replaced with sheer erotic determination as he grabbed my hips and pushed deeper into me. My own body coiled tightly, my pussy clamped down on him once again as the biggest explosive orgasm I’ve ever felt, ripped through me. I could barely hear Lorenzo as he roared, slamming one more time into me before pulsing deeply, sending his seamen deep shooting into me.

Collapsing onto his chest, I gasped for air as my languid body refused to move an inch.

Not that I wanted to anyway.

My body was spent.

I didn’t have one ounce of energy left in me.

My body was shutting down.

I smiled as his arms wrapped around me, holding our sweaty bodies close.

“You are mine now, Donatella. Forever.”

Unable to formulate words, I hum closing my eyes as I drift into heaven.

Twenty

Lorenzo

I laid there next to her watching her sleep, wondering what I did to ever deserve someone like her. She was perfect. My kind of perfect. Beautiful, caring, funny, smart and holy mother of God, was she my perfect match in bed. I’ve never cum so hard in my entire life. My dick was already hard again, begging me to slip back into her tight as fuck pussy.

I had worked her over good. She needed her sleep and after the last thirty-six hours, I was determined she got it. Covering her with the bedsheet, I slipped from the bed, walked to my closet and slipped on a pair of jogging sweats. Looking at her once more to make sure she was sleeping comfortably, I left the bedroom and headed downstairs.

There were things I needed to do and I didn’t want to bother her. There were things in my life she knew nothing about, things I prayed she never learned about me. I wasn’t purposefully hiding anything from her. I just didn’t want to overwhelm her.

She’d been through enough already.

Entering the kitchen, I flipped on the lights to find a man sitting at the small breakfast table, drinking a cup of coffee. The same man who was there hours ago on the docks in Florida, offering to help.

I should have been shocked and a bit pissed that he somehow found his way into my house, but I wasn’t for some reason. In fact, I was more concerned with why he was here.

“I told you to protect her. Not fuck her.”

Ignoring his comment, I walked over to the coffee pot and poured myself a cup. Looking around for the cream, I started opening cabinets when he said, “It’s in the refrigerator.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, opening it and finding what I was looking for. After having my coffee just the way I liked it, I walked over to the small table and sat. “So, what brings you to Chicago?”

“Business.”

I took a sip and said, “I want to thank you again for what you did back in Florida.”

“No problem,” the stranger said, leaning back in the chair. Dissecting me. Sizing me up. “So now that you have the girl, what are your plans?”


Tags: Rebecca Joyce Crime