Page 91 of City of Wind and Lies

Bowie's fingers massage my scalp and I watch with hooded eyes as rivulets of water trail across the hard planes of his inked-up chest and down his washboard abs to the sharp V-cut of his Adonis belt.

Fuck, he's hot and he's mine.

The throbbing in my core only grows stronger the more I tour his body, and like the thirsty bitch I am, I give into the intrusive thoughts. What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn't give him a proper goodbye?

I sink to my knees, the hot water of the shower pelting against my face as I take his balls into my mouth. "Wren-" he groans, knees buckling as he slaps a hand against the black tile. My fingers curl around his thickening shaft, the barbells of his Jacobs Ladder rolling against my palm with every nimble stroke.

Looking up at him through wet lashes, I release his balls and trail my tongue from base to tip. I pause at the top, teeth tugging on the piercing right beneath his head.

"Cazzo," he murmurs, dark waves of hair plastered to his forehead as his lust filled gaze sends a ripple of excitement through me.

Keeping my eyes on his, I hollow my cheeks, sucking him into my mouth until he hits the back of my throat. I swirl my tongue as I draw back, moving my hands to grip his thighs. I alternate the pressure and flicks of my tongue as I bob up and down his length.

I know he's getting close when his muscles tighten beneath my palms and he threads a hand into my hair. Wanting to make him feel as good as he makes me feel, I quicken my motions, and right when I think he's going to come, he yanks me back.

He twists a fist in my hair, forcing me to look up at him as I pant in confusion.

"My cum belongs in that sweet pussy of mine."

Bowie pulls me up, slotting our mouths together with a hungered force making me moan against his lips. Breaking the kiss, he spins me around and growls for me to lean forward and grab my ankles. I do as he says, his fingers digging into my hips bruisingly hard as he ruts inside.

He doesn't wait or let me adjust to the way his thick cock feels twice as big from this angle. No, he holds me in place, pummeling into me at a fevered pace as the shower spray cascades over my folded body and trickles into my nose.

Blood rushes to my head and I choke on water, struggling to swallow any air between gasps of pleasure. His voice strains out broken thoughts with each drag and thrust.

"I love fucking you raw… so warm and wet… goddamn tight."

With one last brutal punch of his hips, he rasps, "So fucking mine," as his hot seed spills inside me.

My legs are trembling beneath me, heart pounding against my chest as I struggle to find my balance. Slipping out of me, Bowie bands an arm around my waist, pulling me flush against his panting form. His fingers find my clit, deftly working me towards my own release.

"You're fucking perfect, Passerotta," he murmurs in my ear as his other hand caresses the soft swell of my belly.

I'm to the point now where it's hard to conceal the little bump, and at first, I was self-conscious about it. Especially when my slacks wouldn't button the other morning. But the way it seems to turn Bowie on is a serious serotonin boost.

A flurry of chills runs up my spine and I throw my head back against his shoulder with a shuddered cry as my orgasm surges through me.

We finish our shower, actually getting clean this time, and Bowie hands me a plush gray towel as I step out. I pat down my body, flip my hair upside down, and twist the towel around my wet locks.

A scream rips from my throat as his palm connects with the bare skin of my ass and I jolt upright. "BOWIE!"

"I couldn't help myself," he chuckles, rolling his lip between his teeth. "It was just begging to be branded."

Rubbing the offended flesh, I turn to look in the mirror and sure enough, a bright red handprint mars my skin. I narrow my eyes, cutting him with a glare as he has the audacity to stand there and wink at me. "I'll go make us breakfast while you get ready."

It's hard to stay mad at him when he's offering to make me food, though. I huff out in exaggerated annoyance as I pull out my blow dryer and he steps into the bedroom.

When I come into the kitchen, there's oatmeal, yogurt with fresh fruit, and bacon with steam still rising from it- but no Bowie. Grabbing my mug of tea, I follow the sounds of voices to find Bowie standing in the living room watching the morning news.

I slip under his arm not holding his coffee and see what's caught his attention.

'Arson investigators from Chicago FD have found no evidence of foul play at the warehouse fire off of South Racine from Tuesday night. Chief Darren Colson tells us that it appears an unknown gas leak was ignited by a discarded cigarette. Luckily, there was no one inside the building, but several vehicles in the area were consumed by the flames, including one from a commercial cleaning company with high-grade chemicals on board. Chief Colson believes this is what fueled the fire to consume the structure so quickly. I'm Naomi White on the scene for Chan-'

"Let's eat,” Bowie says as he clicks off the television.

"Did you have something to do with that?" I ask, tilting my head to the side.

He takes a sip of his coffee, hazel eyes darkening as he nods. "Necessary destruction serving as a distraction."

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