Page 94 of Hot Momosa

I pushed to my feet and wrapped my arms around her limp body. “Let’s get you dried off.”

“Give me a minute to catch my breath, and I’ll return the favor.”

Liking the sound of that, I dried her wrapped her hair in one towel, her body in the other, and repeated the process on myself—without the towel-turban of course.

Once I had her in bed, I brushed her damp hair from her eyes. “Remember how to breathe yet?”

“You’re awfully full of yourself, Marchionni.”

“What can I say? I’m proud of my skills.”

She ran her hand down my chest and wrapped her hand around my cock. “I’d like to see more of these skills of yours.”

“Is that right?”

“Mmm hmm…take me from behind.” Dahlia wiggled her brows.

“Have I mentioned how much I love doggie style?” I flipped her onto her stomach and grabbed her hips.

“I remember.”

With her on all fours, I couldn’t resist leaving a handprint on her creamy white ass.

She let out a half-yelp, half-moan, and I thrust inside her. Between the foreplay in the shower and the current rush of sensations, I had to work hard to keep myself in check or it’d be over entirely too quickly.

She lowered her chest to the bed. Her dark hair splayed across the white sheets, eyes closed, lips parted. Between the stunning visual and the moans and whimpers falling from her luscious mouth, I couldn’t hold back.

My release hit me like a freight train.

Before I had a chance to recover from the sensory overload, Dahlia turned over and wrapped her fingers around my cock again.

I pulled back. “Way too sensitive.”

Not giving up, she slid her hand over my length.

I bit back a groan. “You have to stop.”

Dahlia, the minx, laughed and let go.

I fell to my side with my hand covering the goods, in case she had any more ideas of torturing me.

“That was incredible.” She rested her chin on my shoulder and acted all innocent as she trailed her fingers down the hair between my navel and the no-go zone.

“Mamma?” The doorknob turned.

Dahlia darted upright, grabbed the sheet, and covered our important bits.

Gunnar burst into the room, flashed us a huge smile, and bounded for the bed.

I had no idea how to respond. He’d been sound asleep when we’d made love on the couch. Before we’d split, he’d been too young to get out of his crib. Would Gunnar end up in therapy for his entire adult life after finding us naked beneath the sheets?

Dahlia, God bless her, managed to keep him on top of the covers. “Did you have a good nap?”

He rubbed his eyes, yawned, and cuddled between us. “Is the bad man gone?”

“Yes, but he’s not bad. He surprised me is all.” She bugged her eyes out at me.

Great. How do I explain this?

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