Page 38 of Past Due

“My clit,” I said, face flaming. “Touch my clit, Besian.”

He growled and took my mouth in a punishing kiss. His deft fingers finally swirled around my clit, and I moaned against his lips. He rubbed slow circles with just enough pressure to make my head spin. The shorts around my thighs acted like another layer of bondage, keeping my legs from opening as far as I wanted and prolonging the gradual climb toward orgasm.

When his fingers abandoned my clit to thrust inside me, I cried out with pleasure against his cheek. His fingers stroked gently at first, exploring and learning my body. It felt so damn good to be filled and stretched, and I craved the sensation of his cock inside me.

Besian hit a spot that made my eyes widen and my heart race. He smiled knowingly and kissed me while rubbing back and forth along the intensely sensitive area. His left hand still gripped my wrists, and my heart fluttered at the wickedness of being held down while he pleasured me.

When his thumb swiped steadily across my clit, I moaned his name. “Don’t stop! I’m close.”

“I know,” he murmured and kissed me. “Come. Come, Marley.”

I lost control as his thrusting fingers and flicking thumb drove me mad with lust. His fingers tightened around my wrists, and I sobbed with ecstasy, my entire body spasming as the waves of incredible pleasure rolled through me. “Besian!”

He murmured something in Albanian, something that sounded simultaneously filthy and loving. He fingered me through the peaks of my orgasm and gently, tenderly, eased me down with light strokes that left me shuddering and gasping. I sagged against the bed, feeling limp and wrung out as he kissed my neck and chest.

He gave my wrists a squeeze, drawing my attention. Holding my gaze, he commanded, “No more secrets.”

“No more secrets,” I promised, thoroughly chastised.

He let go of my wrists and massaged them before looking them over as if expecting to see bruises. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.” I cupped his face and nuzzled my nose against his. “You can hold down like that anytime you want.”

He laughed darkly. “I promise you I will.”

My eager hands drifted from his face to his shoulders and then along his sculpted arms. I scratched my nails down his back as we exchanged languid kisses. His cock was hard against my thigh, long and thick and begging for my touch. I slipped my hand between us, groping him through the thin fabric of his boxers and drawing a deep groan.

Suddenly, his phone chirped and rattled on the table across the room. He made an annoyed sound that morphed into a groan as I stroked his cock. “Let it ring,” I urged, desperate to give him the same pleasure he had given me.

“I can’t. It’s Luka.” He pressed his forehead to mine. “Don’t move.”

“Not a problem,” I replied, my whole body still tingling and mellowed out from that wonderful orgasm. I didn’t even bother to pull up my shorts when I rolled over to watch him. He crossed the room and picked up his phone just as it stopped ringing. Frowning, he tapped at the screen and returned the call.

I couldn’t understand a single word that was spoken. It was another reminder that I needed to get my hands on some Albanian language courses. Not because I wanted to eavesdrop on his private calls, but because I wanted to be able to share something special with him. He had come to Houston and learned English. The least I could do was learn his mother tongue for him.

“Everything okay?” I asked as he carelessly tossed his phone onto the chair.

“Yes.” He knelt on the bed and reached for my ankle. I squealed with excitement and shock as he dragged me across the bed. He yanked my shorts off with sharp tugs and climbed over me. Grinning devilishly, he asked, “Now—where were we?”

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