Page 145 of Vicious Games

However, it looks like my girl is done playing.

She rises from my lap, unzips my pants with no shame or hesitation, and frees my aching cock, grabbing its base with her delicate hand. I let out a loud groan when she straddles me in one bold and utterly fucking glorious move. My breath hitches as she guides me to her slick, ready entrance and lowers herself onto me in one, slow, devastating motion.

“Fuck.”

My vision blurs. My mind blanks.

“Jesus, Frankie…”

“I warned you,” she whispers, her eyes locked with mine, full of heat and intent.

She rolls her hips, her inner walls gripping me like a velvet vise, and I swear I see stars.

“I forgot you play dirty,” I growl, my hands gripping her ass as she starts riding me.

“I learned from the best.”

That she did.

Long gone are the days when my Frankie would shyly kiss me, too unsure to even lay a hand on me. Now she knows exactly which buttons to push to drive me insane with want—and fuck, if I’m not completely here for it.

I let her find her rhythm, slow, grinding strokes at first, milking me inch by inch. I match her pace, my hands guiding her up and down while my mouth finds her nipples again, sucking them through the cotton of her bra until they pebble into stiff little gems.

The smell of her. The sounds she makes. The way her pussy clenches tighter around me with every stroke it’s fuckingeverything.

“Lucky,” she gasps, tossing her head back as I thrust up into her, sharp and deep.

“Fuck, I love you, Frankie,” I whisper against her skin, frantic with need. “Can’t get enough of you.”

“I love you,” she breathes, nails digging into my shoulders as she rides me harder.

I slip one hand between us and circle her clit with my fingers, fast and smooth, just how she likes it. It doesn’t take long for her body to lock up, her thighs trembling.

“Oh God…oh God!” she cries, shuddering as she comes apart around me. Her pussy pulses wildly, squeezing me into sweet oblivion. And I let go, eagerly following while holding her tight, burying my face in her neck as I come inside her, groaning her name like it’s the only prayer I’ve ever known.

We then collapse into each other, breathless and trembling.

She’s still panting, flushed and glowing, and fucking perfect as I press my forehead to hers.

“I love you,” she repeats lovingly, looking absolutely breathtaking in her afterglow.

“I fucking love you more,” I rasp, still inside her, still high from her body and that look in her eyes.

She rests her head on my shoulder, fingers tracing over my lips, my jaw, like she’s unable to stop herself from touching me.

“What am I going to do with you?” she asks with a sleepy, satiated smile.

“Anything you want. I’m yours, remember?”

“Mine,” she repeats, letting the word roll on her tongue like it tastes as sweet as it feels.

I kiss her again, slow, deep, full of everything I wish I could shout from every rooftop in all of Chicago.

Yeah, I’m head over heels for this girl.

Who would’ve thought that I – Luciano Romano – would have fallen so hard so fucking fast for a would-be nun? Didn’t have that on my bingo card, I can tell you that much.

“We should go back before Sister Margaretta notices we’re gone,” she says, still trying to catch her breath.

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