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Her mouth falls open. Her whole face crumples as her pussy squeezes.

“I'm coming!!” she screams. “Baby, I’m fucking coooomming!!”

When she does, she drags me right over the edge with her.

I slam my mouth to hers, biting and sucking and licking in a war of tongues and teeth as I thrust into her one last time before utterly letting go.

I can feel her body coming undone around me, her velvety soft walls clenching tight around me and sucking the fucking cum from my balls. The orgasm tears through her, wrenching and twisting her body as I lose myself in the kiss and my release.

My hot cum pours into her, pumping again and again as I growl into her mouth and grind into her spasming, clenching heat.

My pulse thunders through my ears as we both gradually go still. I’m still kissing her, still relishing the feel of her pussy rippling and fluttering around my sensitive cock when I roll us onto my back with her on top of me.

Bella grins this utterly satiated, goofy smile as she drops her cheek to my chest and exhales shakily. Her pussy is still rippling up and down my shaft as a bit more cum spills into her.

“Uh-oh…” she murmurs into my skin with a lazy grin.

My brows knit as I raise my head to look at her. “Uhhh, not exactly the post-sex pillow talk I was imagining, but okay.”

She giggles and then kisses my chest.

“Uh-oh as in, I think I might be about to talk too much…” She bites her lip impishly. “Again.”

A low growl rumbles in my throat. My rock-hard cock, still snugly buried in her pussy, twitches.

“I wonder what we should do about that,” I murmur.

“Pretty sure we’ll think of something,” she says, and then my lips crush to hers.

37

BELLA

“You know,” I murmur as the driver slows the rented black Escalade down outside a gleaming glass tower in midtown, “if you ignore the human-trafficking component, this is kind of romantic.”

My husband and I are going on a date. Our first one, technically.

Granted, the evening involves infiltrating an international sex-trafficking organization under fake names, lying to a room full of extremely dangerous criminals, and hopefully convincing one of them that we’re depraved enough to deserve a face-to-face meeting with his boss.

But there’s champagne involved, and we got dressed up.

Soooo…

Date.

Damiano shoots me a pained look.

“Please do not to say anything remotely like that upstairs.”

I grin and reach between us. Damiano’s gaze follows my hand as I straighten his tie, which is a sixteenth of an inch askew for probably the first time in his life.

“See, this is what happens when you hang out with me too much,” I sigh, nudging the double Windsor knot back into place. “Next you’ll be wearing white after Labor Day and not ironing your underwear.”

He cocks a brow at me.

“Hey, you do do that,” I tease before I sit back and let my gaze sweep over him.

I mean, Jesus fucking Christ. The man should not be allowed to wear suits.