Page 51 of Hot-Blooded Killer

The sudden sensations as I stretch to take him in completely make my eyelids flutter closed.

All I can do is repeat “yes,” over and over, even as I tighten and loosen my thighs to meet him, thrust for thrust, as he pumps into me.

Fucking as soon as we walked in the door wasn’t exactly what I had planned.

Then he’s inside me again, and there’s no more room for thought.

I pulse around him, pulling him into the deepest, hottest part of me.

Lorenzo shifts his hands to grip my ass tightly, pulling me closer as he drives into me. I whimper, and he moves his hands again, this time making sure he can still hold me with one hand while he slides the other between us.

For an instant, I wish I’d had the foresight to take off my underwear before he picked me up. But I discover quickly enough that he can fit his hand down the front of them.

Lightly, he drags his knuckles downward until he brushes them against my clit. My sharp inhale and the tightening of my pussy around his cock make him swell even more, and he circles my clit with his thumb as he moves inside me.

My own rhythmic motions grow faster. Throwing my head back makes it more difficult for Lorenzo to hold me in place, but I don’t think he could’ve stopped me.

Then I lean my forehead against his and stare into his eyes, my breath hard and fast and mingling with his own.

It’s all I can do to keep from coming right then.

Yes. I belong to this man.

Now.

Always.

I close my eyes, my breath ragged and my movements wild as I grind my clit against his hand and pull myself down onto him until he’s deeper inside me than anyone has ever been.

I can feel the way he grows harder and harder, the pressure building as he moves closer to exploding into me, and still he tries to move even closer to me, further into me, as if he could reach the very core of me.

I come with a cry, shudders wracking my body as I cling to him, tightening around his cocks in waves that seem to match the beat of my heart.

Of his heart.

And then he’s pouring himself into me, every pulse of his own orgasm a hot reminder of how much he needs me.

The way he swells inside me, the heated feel of him, triggers something inside me—a second orgasm, or possibly a continuation of my first.

In any case, that white-hot passion wipes out everything else from my consciousness, leaving me draped helplessly, almost bonelessly, around Lorenzo. He manages to keep us upright, but his legs are shaking.

If I had been in charge of keeping us upright, I wasn’t sure I would have done as well.

The thought makes me giggle against the crook of his neck, and I drop a kiss against the hollow there.

“What?” Lorenzo asks, his voice more than a touch breathless.

“You can put me down now, I think.”

At that, he laughs, as well. “I can try. But don’t be surprised if I drop us both to the floor.”

“Maybe we should move to the bed.”

So we do.

EPILOGUE

PENELOPE DIAZ

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