Page 70 of Dark Angel
Barbi had a phenomenal body and, as he continued thrusting, he grabbed her hips.
“Fuuuuck,” she blurted. “I’m gonna come.”
She shook through another orgasm while he unloaded into her, the ecstasy sending hit after hit of blinding-white euphoria erupting through him.
When they stopped coming, he slowly withdrew.
She raised up on her knees, made her way over, and kissed him. The ferocity in her embrace had him sucking her tongue, grabbing her ass. She was on fire, and he couldn’t get enough of her. The more they kissed, the more he needed to fuck her… again.
The kiss continued, until she broke away, panting. “Change condom.”
He retreated into the bathroom, returning a quick moment later. On went the second condom. She lay on the sheet-covered bed and spread her legs.
“Come.”
No further instruction needed.
Yes, his thigh still bothered him, but not at the moment. Only pleasure. He’d pay for this, but it would be worth it. Planking over her, he stared into her eyes.
“You intrigue me,” he murmured.
The dimly lit table lamp offered him just enough light to catch the smile that danced in her eyes.
“No talking.”
She reached between them, fisted his shaft and positioned it at her opening. “Rock me.”
In he went, but this time, he slowed their pace. They moved as one, their mouths connecting, their tongues tangling. He slowed the kiss to suck her nipple, fondle her breast.
“I like that.”
He stopped but didn’t pull off her nib. “I like it too.”
She arched up, thrusting him in deeper. In and out, faster and faster while her sexy sounds filled his ears with the rawness of fucking.
Two strangers—both with secrets—stealing away in the dead of night to get lost in each other.
The orgasm started deep inside him, a tsunami in a sea of ecstasy. He thrust faster and harder as he released inside her.
“I’m coming,” she ground out as she bucked beneath him.
Euphoria.
All the bad floated away, leaving only the purest of pleasures.
Sated, he lay on her, breathing hard.
“Apology accepted,” she murmured before adding, “I’m not the enemy.”
Still rooted inside her, he peered into her eyes. “Who are you, really?”
“I need to go,” she said, her Russian accent back with a vengeance.
“Can I take you to dinner?”
She nudged him off her. “I’m not hungry.”
He didn’t want to separate… not that quickly. “How do I find you?”
