Page 78 of Life

I use my internal muscles to prolong his pleasure, tightening and loosening them against his cock until he’s spent.

His upper body falls back to the couch, and I follow him, flattening myself against his bulk. I kiss him for a long time, my tongue licking deep, swirling with his, until I feel his dick hardening inside me again.

“Gonna fuck you until you know where you live.” He kisses me hard and with so much intent, I find myself rocking my hips, helping his cock recover so round two can commence immediately.

“I know where I live.”

“Do you?” He stirs his hips and reaches up for my tits. He pinches both tips, and I can’t help moaning into his mouth.

“Wherever your cock is, is where I want to be.” I grip his hair as he nuzzles his way down to my breasts.

He chuckles and takes a nipple into his mouth, working it into a frenzy again.

“I see how you are. You only want me for my cock.”

“And your mouth. And your hands.” I kiss his neck, nibbling my way up his scruff. “And your ass.” I roll my hands down and dip into the back of his jeans to get some cheek. Then I work my way up until I get to his mouth again. “Where do you sleep,Cazador?” I ask the question he asked me earlier, the one I purposely avoided.

He sucks my top lip in and then my bottom one before pulling back and looking me in the eyes. “Where you lay that beautiful head is where I’m going to be. Always.” His words are a vow that hugs my heart and breaks down any reservations I have about committing to this man.

“I sleep where you sleep. So I guess you’re right. I do live here.” I love his corresponding smile.

“Babe.” He says the single word again as if that’s all that needs to be said. And truthfully, there’s a lot more behind that one word than I like to give credit for.

“Oh, shut up and fuck me.”

“Spicy as fuck. Pussy is greedy as hell. I’m so screwed.”

His dick is thick and long inside me. “I’ll show you screwed.” I lift up to my knees and take him deep in one thrust.

“Jesus!” he hollers, tipping his head back in ecstasy.

“Like I said, shut up and fuck me.”

Instead of continuing to spar with me, he grips my hip and my good shoulder and hauls me onto my back. He expertly lifts my thigh high, presses it up and into my armpit, and then proceeds to jackhammer into me.

“Dios mio, I so live here.” I wrap both legs around his waist and hold on for dear life.

Chapter Nineteen

“Maria, get over here and paint your niece a onesie!” Bree harrumphs, a fist on her hip and a cute scowl on her pretty face.

The coral dress she’s wearing hugs her expanded waistline and bust perfectly. A deep plunging V-neck gives Bree the opportunity to show off her new boobs. She claims it’s the only thing good about being pregnant—having breasts two sizes bigger than normal. I’ve always had a chest bigger than all of them put together, so I’m scared to see what mine will look like swollen in pregnancy. I shudder and traipse over to the table they have set up. A long line of tiny newborn onesies is laid out.

“You realize if I do this, your baby is going to be wearing an abstract, Picasso-inspired mess,” I say truthfully.

Her eyes are indigo pools and deeply focused when she replies, “I don’t care. I want Dannica to have something special from each of her aunties.”

“Oh, but she will, I’m going to teach her to dance. It’s the gift that keeps on giving.” I attempt to pacify the preggo-monster and her insane mood swings.

Now a second fist on a hip is added to the first. She looks like a pregnant superhero, and I hold back the laughter, knowing it will get me into serious trouble.

Bree points to the onesie in front of me. “Sit. Paint. Now. No bitching,” she says through her teeth.

“Bien, bien. Mantenga sus bragas.Keep your panties on, woman!” I roll my eyes and sit down in the chair.

“I would if I were wearing them.” Bree winks and then smiles wide. Her smile is so beautiful it reminds me of the clouds parting and the sun coming out for the first time on an otherwise overcast day. “You paint. I’m going to go check on Kat.”

I turn and look over my shoulder. Kat is set up in a chaise longue. She’s wearing a big sun hat and smiling. Thank God she’s on the mend. Glancing around, I look for Carson. He’s standing off to the side, a beer dangling between his fingers and his focus one hundred percent on Kathleen. Whatever’s going on between them is not good. I make a note to talk to her in private again. Tell her to stop pushing Carson away. Poor guy looks so lonely and sad.

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