Page 53 of The Woman on the Jury

The way Cosimo’s lowered gaze cut up to mine, though, told me he wasn’t oblivious to what was happening right then.

His fingers whispered across my skin again, making my breath catch as a little shiver moved through me.

There was no reasoning with a body.

So as much as my brain told me to shut it down, to keep this desire to myself, I felt my breathing and pulse quicken. And my nipples tightened into buds, pressing against the barely-there material of my tank top.

That hard gaze of his, unreadable in that moment, still on mine, his fingers slipped further upward, teasing the seam of my thighs until they fell shamelessly apart for him, allowing him to touch the ultra-sensitive skin of my inner thighs.

I knew he could feel the heat of me.

If his fingers slipped even slightly upward, there was no way he wouldn’t feel how wet I already was.

As if sensing the direction of my thoughts, Cosimo’s fingers teased further upward still, tracing that spot where my thigh met my sex.

Seemingly spurred on by my gasp, his fingers pressed the space between my thighs.

I couldn’t keep in my moan. I didn’t even try, to be fair.

I was too caught up in the moment, in the intensity of my feelings toward this practical stranger.

Cosimo’s eyes blazed as his hand left me.

There was a crushing sort of disappointment, but only for a moment.

Because the next thing I knew, his hand was inside my shorts and panties, his fingers tracing up my slick cleft.

My hand shot out, grabbing his arm, holding on as his finger found my clit, and started to circle.

Any logical thoughts about why this was a terrible idea fled my mind as need filled my system.

Cosimo’s eye contact was unyielding, and the potency of that was only driving me up faster as he worked me with expert fingers, keeping the perfect pace and pressure, never giving my orgasm a moment to ebb.

As my breathing got quicker, as my nails bit into his arm and my hips writhed against his touch, his touch shifted. His thumb took over my clit and his other fingers traced back downward, then thrust inside me, dragging a ragged moan out of me.

His eyes flashed as his fingers slid all the way in, and my walls tightened around them.

Cosimo wasted no time.

His fingers found the perfect rhythm, teasing me, driving me up.

My whimpers and moans grew at the need for release.

Cosimo’s free hand reached suddenly out, closing over my breast, just holding the weight of it for a moment before squeezing.

Then, with this rumbling sound that might have been the sexiest thing I’d ever heard, his hand grabbed the material of my tank, drawing it down, exposing me to his hungry gaze.

“Fuck,” he hissed, eyes closing for a second as he took a deep breath.

His fingers were more insistent inside me as his hand grazed my breast. His fingers found my nipple, rolling, twisting, driving me up further.

His thumb slid over my clit finally, giving me what I’d been aching for even as his fingers shifted inside me, teasing over my G-spot.

My walls got tighter, dragging another of those rumbling sounds from Cosimo.

And, somehow, that just sent me right over the edge, leaving me crying out as the orgasm gripped my system almost violently, taking me under, wave after wave, until my entire body felt drained and boneless, leaving me trying to catch my breath and slow my heart.

Cosimos’s fingers slid out of me, out of my panties, and I watched in shock as he slipped his fingers into his mouth, tasting me.

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