Page 79 of Luca
He kept milking his cock, his grunting sounds and my whimpers mixing together. He kept coming, his cum dripping down his cock, his fingers, down his thighs. I licked my lips, wishing I could taste him.
All I had to do was stand up and walk over to him. He’d let me. I knew it as well as I knew my name. I watched him still hold his softening cock and still found the sight of him and all that seed deeply erotic.
ChapterThirty-One
LUCA
My gaze was glued on Margaret’s glistening pink pussy as I listened to her breathing.
I had never, fucking never, seen a more beautiful woman. Her swollen belly with our child was the most breathtaking sight. Fuck Himalayas. Fuck Sahara Desert. Or any amazing wonders of the world.
This was the only sight that took my breath away. And seeing her flushed, touching herself and thinking about me was the next best thing to touching her, so I’d take it.
Her eyes were still glued to my cock and her skin flushed. It took all my self-control to keep enough sense and shield my Prince Albert piercing. It was too soon to reveal to her that it was me who she took to bed in Vegas.
She removed her fingers from her pussy. “Don’t move,” I ordered her and her hand froze in midair.
I quickly slid out of bed, reached for a towel and cleaned myself up while keeping my eyes on her and ensuring my back was to her. Then I pulled up my sweatpants and walked over to her.
I took her hand and held her ocean gaze.
“I want to taste your fingers.”
Shock entered her expression. Her mouth parted and her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red. She was a siren, tempting me with every breath. My fingers wrapped around her dainty wrist and brought it to my mouth. I sucked her fingers clean, one by one, savoring the taste of her arousal.
“You taste like my woman,” I groaned. “Like my wife.”
She tugged on her hand, and I let her pull away. Although I regretted the loss already.
My childhood was harsh and ruthless under my father’s thumb. But suddenly I couldn’t regret it because it all led me to her. It was the image of the little girl with ebony black curls and soul shattering blue eyes that kept me going.
It wasn’t until I ran into her in Temptation that I finally saw my purpose plain as day.
Margaret pushed her nightgown down, then lowered her eyes, letting them roam the room as if she couldn’t wait to get away from here. Or couldn’t stand to look at me.
“Look at me.” She refused. Not surprising considering she found a way to contradict me at every turn. I took her chin between my fingers and forced her face up. The image of her, on her knees, looking up at me with those beautiful, heartbreaker eyes and my cock between her beautiful full lips flashed in my mind.
It sent a new wave of heat to my groin and made my blood rush in my ears.
Cristo santo.
I had just jacked off and spilled all over myself like some teenage boy, and suddenly, I was ready for another round.
“What’s the matter?” I asked her, pushing my carnal urges aside. There’d be time for that. When she asked me for it.
“Nothing.” Her response was soft, contradictory to her normal fire. It wasn’t as if I minded it, but I wanted the real her.
I lowered to my knees. “What is it?”
Something flashed in her eyes and she reached for her panties, but I was quicker.
“Don’t bend over with your belly.” I read it was bad for her to put any pressure on her belly. Sleeping on her stomach was out of the question. Bending over while sitting and pushing her belly against her knees was bad too.
She rolled her eyes and extended her hand.
“No, I think I’ll keep those. As a souvenir.” I grinned. She blinked her eyes in confusion. “I enjoyed tonight, but if you refuse to do it again, your panties are the next best thing.”
Besides, she seemed to be immune to my charms. After I ate her pussy back in the field, on the picnic blanket, I expected her to search me out. For her resolve to weaken. But no, she held steady. My wife was a stubborn woman.
