“I know. It’s fine, baby girl.”
Baby girl.Oh my God, I love the way he calls me that.
I gasp as he slides his thick, muscled arms under mythighs, spreading me wide for his cock. He pauses before sinking into me.
“Fuuuck, baby girl, you’re so fuckin’ tight.”
“You’re just so fucking big,” I answer, surprising myself.
He roars with laughter and takes my mouth in a demanding kiss. Time spins away as I lose myself in all the pleasurable sensations spiraling through me. His cock sliding in slow, stretching me. He works into a pattern, stroking over that magical spot inside of me that feels so good. Our tongues, licking and crashing against each other. His rough hands squeezing and stroking my breasts, thumbing my nipples.
My orgasm washes over me, warm and sweet. Before I know what’s happening, Dante slides out of me, snaps off the condom, and shoots hot cum all over my tits and belly.
Eyes half-closed and sexy lips turned into a smirk, he looks extremely satisfied with himself. But I think I know what will please him even more.
I run my fingers through the sticky wetness, rubbing his cum into my skin. Over my breasts.
“Pinch your nipples,” he breathes out.
I do and he groans.
“Let’s get you clean.”
He slides his arms under my body and carries me into the bathroom. I don’t know what to think, except I like the way he makes me feel. Dirty, used, protected, and cherished.
Nuzzling my forehead against his stubbly cheek, I ask the question that’s been burning in my head all day. “How old are you, Dante?”
His gaze flicks down, searching my face. “Thirty-four.”
“That’s not that old,” I answer as he sets me down next to the tub.
He lets out a big, booming laugh. “No?”
“No. Logan said you were too old for me, but I think you’re just right.”
His jaw twitches and I wish I’d kept my mouth shut. “When’d he say that?”
“This morning when he grabbed me outside the bathroom.” Whoops. Too late, I realize I should have chosen my words more carefully.
His eyes narrow. “Whaddya mean, grabbed you?”
My shoulders jump up and down. “I told you—”
He turns and flips the shower on, waiting for it to heat up. “Yeah, but you didn’t say he put his hands on you.”
“I’m sorry.”
He nails me with another hard stare. “Don’t be sorry. Not your fault. He shouldn’t be touching what doesn’t belong to him. I’ll need to make that clear when he gets back from his run.”
I let out the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.
“What?” he asks, studying my face.
“How long will he be gone?”
“Should be less than a week.”
“Oh.”
