Page 72 of The Woman on the Jury

Not trusting myself as he got me closer and closer to that edge, my hand pressed over my mouth, muffling the sounds I seemed to have no control over as he had me teetering on that edge.

I didn’t have to worry about silencing myself, though.

Because right before I could feel the release of the orgasm through my body, he was standing, and slamming his lips down on mine. His hand went between my legs and continued to tease, driving me up through an orgasm that had me crying out against his lips.

His hand went to the back of my neck, holding me to him as he started to walk, moving me backward blindly, then turning, and taking me down with him onto the couch in the dressing room.

Completely naked, with him entirely clothed.

But my mind wasn’t on that.

Because his lips were still on mine, crushing, then coaxing. Hard then soft. Making it impossible for the desire to ebb.

His teeth nipped my lower lip, dragging a small whimper out of me, allowing his tongue to slip inside to tease over mine.

His hands slid down my back, sinking into my ass, and squeezing.

His cock was straining against my stomach, and there was this undeniable ache inside, this need to feel him inside of me.

Suddenly overcome with the need to touch him, I scooted back off his lap, lowering down on the floor between his spread legs.

My gaze slid to his as my hands teased up his thighs, then over to his belt, button, and zipper.

His dark gaze was molten by the time I reached inside to close my hand around his cock, pulling it out, and stroking down his thick length.

That deep rumbling sound escaped him, making me need to press my thighs together to ease the ache as I lowered down, and sucked him into my mouth.

His hand slammed down on the back of my neck, fingers digging in with his need.

As soon as I started to work him, with a sort of enthusiasm I wouldn’t have thought myself capable of if I wasn’t there, experiencing it, his other hand gathered my hair, moving it out of the way so he could watch.

I sucked him faster and faster as his breath became shallow huffs and his hips rocked up into my mouth.

“Fuck,” he groaned, fingers accidentally tugging my hair a bit. “I’m gonna come down that pretty throat,” he warned.

Then he was.

And I felt my sex clench hard in response.

I wasn’t sure I’d ever been as needy and as shameless in my desire before as I was with Cosimo.

But, slowly but surely, as he recovered from his orgasm, and I moved away from him, yeah, my damn rational mind came flooding back.

“Get dressed,” he demanded, reaching to tuck himself away and refasten his pants and belt.

Yep, there was that asshole I was getting to know quite well.

And I’d just sucked him off in a public dressing room.

Great. That was just fan-freaking-tastic.

I didn’t even think of modesty as I rushed away from him, yanking the panties up my legs, then pulling on my shirt, wanting as much of myself covered as possible.

When I grabbed my pants off the floor, I finally chanced a look over at him. As usual, I saw nothing. Just a locked down face with no hint of what was going on inside.

As soon as my pants were fastened, though, he was wrenching open the door, and saying in a voice that harnessed an old, married man who had no affection left for his wife, barked, “I’m not arguing about this anymore.”

I felt myself stiffen as I saw Jeffrey rushing over, eyes wide, likely worried something had gone wrong with his sale.

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