Page 41 of The Woman with the Target on her Back (Grassi Family)

My cries echoed out in the open space as shudders moved through me, as my whole body seemed to writhe and ride the waves of pleasure.

He barely let me come down before he was pulling out of my grips, his lips crashing down on mine.

Hard.

Hungry.

I met him in kind as his body shifted over me.

My hands grabbed his jacket, yanking it down and off, then reaching around to free his tie, then each of his shirt buttons until he shucked off the material with the same impatience I felt, and his bare chest pressed to mine, his hard lines meeting my soft curves.

My hands turned greedy, moving up and down his sides, back, shoulders, sinking into his ass. Then they were moving around, slipping between working his belt free, then his button and zipper.

“August,” I grumbled when I couldn’t get his pants down with him pressing so hard against me.

On a rumbling sound that vibrated through me, he shifted back, reaching for his wallet in his pocket before removing his pants and boxer briefs.

I was partially aware of him going into his wallet, but my focus was, well, somewhere else entirely.

My hand moved out, closing around his hard length. A shudder moved through him, and he hissed as I stroked him once, twice, my thumb teasing over the head.

Only then did he push me away, too far gone to be teased any more than that.

He slipped on the condom before coming over me again, his body crushing down on mine, stealing my breath, but I somehow relished in the pressure as my arms and legs went around him, pulling him closer still as his lips landed on mine.

My hips shifted, until I felt the length of him pressing against my cleft, then shamelessly ground against him as his lips and tongue and teeth toyed with my lips.

“August,” I groaned, fingers digging into his hips, desperate to feel him inside of me.

His lips released mine. Then he pushed up to look down at me, eyes molten.

Shifting back, his cock moved, pressing against me, then surging inside with one deep thrust, making both of us suck in our breaths at the sensation.

“Fuck,” August hissed as he settled deep. “You feel so fucking good,” he added as I wrapped my legs around him, my hips already doing desperate little circles.

There was no more hesitation after that.

He started to fuck me the way we both needed.

Hard and fast.

Driving us both toward oblivion at a break-neck pace.

“There,” he hissed, feeling my walls tighten around him as I rocked against his thrusts. “Come for me,” he demanded.

And just like that, I did, crying out, my body shuddering hard as I did so.

August fucked me through it before slamming deep and coming at the tail-end of my orgasm.

His body crashed down on me after, both of us breathless and boneless for what felt like an eternity.

We both seemed to come back to ourselves slowly, then all at once, untangling our limbs in tandem, then both getting up.

August turned and walked toward the bathroom while I gathered my clothes in my hands, and rushed into the bedroom, then through to the bathroom, stopping running only when I caught sight of myself in the mirror.

Cheeks flushed.

Eyes heavy-lidded.

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