Page 103 of The Woman on the Jury

“I can take it,” he said, fingers sinking into my hair to tug it gently, angling my head up.

Then his lips were on mine.

Softer than I was used to with him.

Almost gentle, though nothing about him made you think he was capable.

But he was.

For me.

Just for me.

That was what had my arms going up and around his neck, holding on tight as his lips slanted over mine again and again.

It wasn’t long before he was walking backward, taking me with him across the apartment, then dropping down on the couch, me straddling him.

“You scared the shit out of me today,” he admitted, his lips on my neck, making little sparks of desire ignite at the touch even as his words made my belly do flip-flops.

I scared him.

Little old me had the power to scare a big, bad mafia guy.

“Don’t ever fucking do that to me again,” he demanded as his hands went to my hips, pulling them down on his lap, making me feel his hard cock against me.

“Okay,” I agreed, my hips rocking against him as the need hit a fever pitch in my body.

Cosimo’s hands grabbed the hem of my shirt, drawing it upward and off. His head fell back with a quick exhale as his gaze moved over me. One of his hands whispered up my stomach, teasing the underside of my breast, making a shiver move through me.

His fingers moved up, covering my breast, and giving it a firm squeeze before starting to roll my nipple as my hips continued to rock against him, getting a hint of what I wanted, but not quite enough.

Cosimo released my breasts, then grabbed my hips. He lifted me off him, pressing me back onto the couch, and reaching down for my waistband. He worked free my button and zipper before drawing my pants down my legs, then off.

He was between them not a moment later, his mouth moving over me through the barely-there material of my panties.

His tongue worked my clit relentlessly as his fingers slipped into my panties, and thrust inside me.

He worked me until I was moaning and writhing.

Then pulled away just as I was about to get relief.

His lazy smirk said he was pleased with his timing as he pulled off my panties, then moved to sit once again, then reaching to pull me over him.

I reached between us, undoing his belt and pants, then reaching inside to free his cock.

“You going to ride me?” he asked as he reached for his wallet, and withdrew a condom.

“Yes,” I whimpered, aching to feel him as he slid on the protection.

Finished, he fisted his cock, and rested his other hand on my hip.

“Take me in,” he demanded. “I need to feel you squeezing my cock.”

I didn’t need any more encouragement than that.

I shifted over him, then lowered down, feeling him slide in, inch by thick inch until he was buried deep.

“Ride me, baby,” he demanded, voice tight, like he was already as far gone as I was.

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