Page 47 of Dark Angel
They’d agreed to no questions.
“Doesn’t matter.”
“I’ll ride you,” she said mounting him. “Lay there like a slug and let me do all the work.”
He chuffed out a laugh. “I’ve heard that Russian woman are?—”
She put her finger over his mouth. “No talking.” With her half-lidded gaze locked on his, the lust pouring from her jet-black eyes, she rose up, wrapped her hand around his cock, and guided him to her opening.
Then, she sank down, the pleasure shooting through him at Mach speed. Again, her breathing changed. He focused his attention on her fantastic tits.
When he placed his hands on them, she said, “Twist my nipples. I want to feel your control and feel the pain.”
He squeezed, she began gliding over him, her soaked pussy giving way to his shaft.
“I like that you’re too big. I can feel you pushing my cunt open. Forcing me to yield to you.” She began gliding faster, her groans making him moan. She was on fire, with one speed. The faster she glided, the harder she ground against him. He was all the way inside her, then almost out. The intensity of her fucking had him racing toward another orgasm.
And then, she stopped, mid thrust, and arched her tits toward him.
“Make me come with your thumb.” She sucked his thumb, letting her saliva run down his digit, then she pressed it against her swollen clit.
He massaged it while her sultry gaze drilled into his.
And then she started moving again, her body gliding over his hardness. Faster and faster for her own pleasure until the orgasm tore through her, her cries piercing the silent night.
Her expression—utter ecstasy—triggered his orgasm. He loved making women come. Loved that he could bring them the ultimate pleasure. Yes, he had an oversized ego, but he gave as good as he took. He wasn’t playing for keeps. He was just playing.
Wasn’t he?
HALSTON
Halston shudderedthrough another mild-blowing orgasm, while hit after hit of dopamine sent her soaring through the stratosphere. He wasn’t doing much from a positions-standpoint. But from what she could tell, he shouldn’t have been doinganything.
He was easy on the eyes with the hard body of a god, and she was the free bird she’d been fantasizing about for over two-hundred and seventy days. She was screwing a Santini, but she had no idea which one… and at the moment… she didn’t care.
When he finished coming, she stilled on him. Peering down, she liked what she was seeing.
“I want you to fuck me from behind, but I don’t think your leg can handle that.”
A growl shot out of him, the gravelly sound sending a rush of desire through her. “Ineedto fuck you from behind.”
That made her smile.
“Next time,” he said.
“No. We’re not doingthisagain, so let’s figure out another position youcando and get down to biz’ness.”
“Sideways,” he said.
She pulled off, excused herself to the bathroom. Seconds later, he knocked on the door, stuck his head inside. “Can I clean up?”
“This is a hookup, not a date,” she said as she finished peeing. “How ‘bout some privacy?”
“Mi scusi, bella signora,” he said.Pardon me, beautiful lady.
She wondered what he’d think of her without the short wig, dark contacts, and Russian accent.
Would he think I’m pretty?
