Filthy Vows - Alessandra Torre Page 0,43

at the suggestive grin on his face. “Now?”

“Come on.” His hand fumbled at the button of my long shorts. “It’ll take him a half hour, given that construction on Fourth. Plus, I ordered a deep dish, just to give us extra time.”

“Oooh… deep dish.” I stuck the tip of my tongue barely out at him. “That was assumptive. What if I wasn’t in the mood?”

“My wife?” He smirked. “She’s always in the mood.”

If I hadn’t been before, that phrase right there did it for me. I liked the idea of him being married, and the hypothetical scenario of me being his other woman. “Would she share you with me?” I gripped him through his jeans, enjoying the hiss of caution that he let out.

“Fuck no. She’d be furious if she knew what I was about to do to you.” He roughly kissed my neck as he yanked my shorts over my wide hips, his actions competing with mine as we both struggled to get the other’s clothes off. We kissed, his mouth possessive, and I shivered as my shirt fell away, my skin breaking out in goosebumps in the cold room.

“You know, my wife gives one hell of a blow job.” He palmed my breasts in each warm hand and squeezed. “Think you can do better?”

“Ha.” I pushed him onto the bed and straddled him. “I dole out blowjobs after orgasms. Get me to five, and I’ll suck your dick so hard you’ll leave your wife for me.”

“Yes ma’am.” He sat upright and grinned up at me, his hands caressing over my nipples as his dick twitched against my ass. I raised up on my knees and reached down, positioning him between my legs. His hands tightened on me in warning. “Wait, the door.”

I glanced over my shoulder at the door, which hadn’t fully closed behind him. “It’s fine.” I lowered myself onto him, sighing in contentment as his thick cock pushed into me. So hard, so quickly. It had been one of the rumors at Florida State, proved true and still accurate, seven years later.

“You like it open?” The question hissed through his lips right before he reclaimed my mouth, his hand wrapping through my hair and tugging on it. “You hoping he’ll come home early and see you riding my cock?”

I hesitated in the middle of my action, his cock halfway in, and met his gaze. It was intense and possessive, his grip on me fierce, his dick rigid. If he was mad, it was the hottest version of the emotion I’d ever seen. He jerked his hips underneath me, jabbing deeper. I came down fully. “Maybe.”

“Fuck maybe,” he swore, his hands running up my thighs and gripping my ass, pulling my cheeks apart as one of his fingers found the pucker of my ass. “Tell me. Tell me you want him to see this beautiful ass riding up and down my cock.”

My nails dug into his chest as I spoke, caution thrown to the wind, the risk as hot as the pleasure. “I want him to see it.”

“Do you?” he gritted out, his finger pushing into the tight pucker of my ass. “You know he won’t just stand there. Not when he sees how fucking dirty you are. Not when he hears how you sound when you take my cock.” He pulled me down to his chest and trapped me in place, holding me still as he took over the motion, his hips beginning a furious assault of upward thrusts into my needy body. He turned his head and put his mouth close to my ear. “Is that what you want, Elle? Do you want him to come into our bedroom? Do you want to see his cock? You know he’s going to be rock hard, seeing what he’s about to fuck.”

I broke at the visual, clutching his shoulders and letting out a howl of pleasure as his second finger pushed into my ass, the fit tight and dirty and hot, my muscles spasming around him as my orgasm pulsed.

His fingers yanked out and he rolled, getting on top of me. “Flip over,” he ordered. “On your knees.”

I scrambled up the bed, obeying him, the lilac comforter bunching under my knees. He pulled them outward, spreading me wide, and pushed my shoulders down until my breasts brushed the bed. “Stay right there. Arch your back.”

The bed shifted and I paused, tilting my head to one side. The weight of his steps sounded as he moved to the