Soft lips. Hot tongue. Oh, God. Oh, sweet holy fuck. She sucked him straight to the back of her throat.
His toes curled, and his hips shot off the couch, thrusting, plunging, digging deep, so fucking deep before he caught himself and pulled back.
Down boy.
He wasn’t going to last. No way in hell. She felt too fucking unreal.
“Unbelievable.” A string of Spanish spewed past Marco’s lips.
That was the last distraction Luke registered before everything faded. The room, their audience, nothing existed but the overwhelming stimulation of her mouth moving on his cock.
Her tongue traced veins and ridges. Her hands explored, caressing his abdomen, hips, thighs. By the time she reached his balls, he was panting, grunting, fighting the demands of an impending release.
Christ, he was going to come. Or black out. Fuck, he would die from the pure agony of it.
Not yet. Holy fucking hell, not yet.
He didn’t want it to end. But her mouth was relentless, sucking the sensitive glans beneath his head, tasting the endless flow of pre-come, swallowing him deeply, and coaxing him to shoot his load.
With throaty groans, he couldn’t stop the movement of his hips. His hands flew to her head, and he crushed her face to his groin, rocking, stabbing, cutting her air. He had to have her, kiss her, fuck her, and touch her everywhere. God almighty, he’d never needed anything or anyone like he needed this. Her.
Mindlessly, he fucked her throat, and she took every inch, gripping his thighs, gagging, choking, and sucking even harder.
Let her breathe, idiot.
Releasing her, he reached beneath her dress, between her legs. His fingers found her panties, ripped them away, and sought her wet center. Soaking. So silky and warm. Her arousal gushed over his knuckles, and her pussy sucked his probing touch into its hot, welcoming recesses.
She writhed, gyrating her hips and moaning around his cock. He thrust a finger into her again, added two, three, rimming her opening and massaging the sensitive muscle inside. She cried out, grinding against his hand, her breaths faltering, eyes squeezing shut as she rode the pleasure like a hellion.
Dragging her tongue along his length, she flicked and teased without mercy. His head spun at the unpredictable rhythm, his body hard, every muscle flexed, his entire world caught in her spell.
Over and over, she sucked the tip into the back of her throat, closing her lips around him, sealing him in delicious warmth. It took every ounce of concentration to remember the fingers he still held inside her. What a distracting little succubus.
Two could play at this game.
He moved his hand between her legs, seeking her clit with his thumb, rolling it, adding pressure until she cried out and pulled her mouth off his cock.
“Oh, you’re in trouble now.” She flashed her teeth, gripped his hip and thigh, and sucked him hard and deep into her throat.
His vision blurred. The world spun, and he shut his eyes against the onslaught.
“Jesus. Goddamn. Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He flung out his free hand and gripped the back of the couch, desperately anchoring himself in some semblance of control.
She was ready to come, dripping all over his fingers. If he didn’t send her over now, she would win. She’d milk him for all he was worth before he had a chance to have her here, on the couch, wild and rabid and absolute.
Circling his thumb around her clit, he fingered her sheath with hard strokes, harder, until he thought she would tumble into his lap. Trembling on the cusp of ecstasy, she fought it valiantly. And lost.
The hot clasp of her body squeezed, constricting his fingers through violent spasms. She tore her mouth off his dick and screamed, her head tilting back and mouth wide in stunned oblivion.
Her release shuddered through her, and her hoarse cries dissolved into moans. As she gulped for air, he yanked a condom from his pocket and rolled it on.
Glazed eyes found his, satisfied but not sated. His heart pounded. The tumultuous sounds of their breaths caught fire, and they launched at the same time.
Chests colliding, arms grappling, they came together in a tangle of limbs and sexual heat. There was no pause. No hesitation. Her legs wrapped around his hips. Their lips met in a frenzy, and their bodies took over.
She rose above him. He adjusted the angle, and Ahhh, fuuuuck! He sank into her hot, drenching glory. Tight and swollen, she urged him deeper, wriggling, slamming down her hips, and hardening him beyond human endurance.
Sweaty and breathless, he started moving, thrusting, and fucking her mouth with his tongue. She grabbed his necktie, lifted along his length, and lowered, dipping him inside her oh-so-slowly.
He couldn’t take it. With his hands on her waist, he took the reins. Then he took her fully, setting the tempo, widening her thighs, and pumping into heaven, his body a piston of pent-up urgency and hunger.
She clawed at his neck, his shoulders, holding onto him as if wrestling for every inch of closeness. Their lips smashed and bruised, teeth clashing, tongues hitting and sliding, too frantic and reckless to execute a real kiss.
But it was more than real. It was what every kiss should be. Untrained. Unhinged. Just pure raw fire.
He drove his hips harder, hitting the spot inside her that would send her into rapture. She clenched her thighs around him, pulling herself closer, moaning helpless sounds of want.
Yeah, she was close, her gasps becoming shallower, her cunt growing slicker. He fucked her steadily, completely, knowing no man—not even the two in the room—had ever possessed her the way he owned her now. In this, she was his alone.
At the edge of his awareness, he heard arguing. A glass crashed. A door slammed, taking Vera’s angry voice with it.
Reality crept in.
He felt things for this woman, feelings too new to analyze. Maybe he was crazy, but it wasn’t one-sided. She felt something, too.
By no means could the cartel get a whiff of it. Not until he had a plan. As much as Luke wanted to carry Gina out in tender embrace, he couldn’t. The cartel needed to believe what they witnessed tonight was just a moment. Just sex. Nothing more. And he needed her cooperation to pull it off.
She slipped her hands along his arms, holding tight as he trailed his lips across her cheek, into her hair, peppering slow feverish kisses.
At her ear, he tasted her sweet skin and whispered, “You hate me. The instant you come, show them exactly how much. Then leave. Go to my room. Tomas will make sure you arrive safely.”
She leaned back and searched his eyes. Their hips came together, grinding in a fusion of conflict and intimacy. He watched her closely, looking for a sign that she understood.
But she was already lost, drowning in the grip of pleasure. Jesus fuck, she was coming, straining against his hold, her body shaking, her voice whispering in Spanish over and over.
The splendor of her surrender was his undoing. He increased his strokes, the intensity beyond anything he’d ever experienced as he clutched her neck and roared, releasing himself in hard, violent jets. He came and came on the verge of passing out.
Until a hand crashed across his face, shooting blinding pain through his jaw.
He blinked, panting, and she punched him again.
“I hate you.” She shoved off his cock, jumped from his lap, and straightened her dress in a raging fit. “What do you think just happened? That I wanted it? Fuck no! That was coercion. Rape. You sick, unholy bastard!”
“That’s what they all say.” He tossed her a grin and rubbed his jaw. “Try not to come so hard next time.”