The Next Mrs Russo - Jana Aston Page 0,72

watches me, slipping those fingers into his mouth.

I groan. Porn is definitely over for me.

“Warren.” I say his name like I’m begging. Because I am. I’m practically growling at how he’s denying me on purpose.

“Tell me what you want, Audrey. Explain it to me. In detail,” he adds with a smirk. It’s a definite smirk.

This dick.

Where would I even begin? A dozen lewd sexual positions race through my mind and I want him in all of them. I want him while I’m on my back. I want to ride him. I want him to flip me over and pin me down as he fucks me from behind. I want it all.

“I want”—I reach down and wrap my hand around him—“your cock”—I pump the hard length of him, happy to play the teasing game—“inside of me.”

Then I drop him from my hand and lick my lips before stretching my hands above my head. I watch his eyes drop to my breasts.

“I want you to fuck me so hard my tits bounce and I can feel you between my legs for the next week,” I tell him. Everything inside of me’s aching and warm and wanting, and if he doesn’t stop this game pretty soon I will shatter into a thousand pieces of frustration. “I want you to do whatever you want to me. Take whatever you want. Give it to me.” I let my thighs fall open and his eyes trail from my breasts downward and then back.

Then he reaches into his nightstand.

Thank. Fuck.

“You’re the filthy tease, Audrey,” he says, voice low and gruff as he rips the condom packet with his teeth. “You drive me crazy just sitting around doing nothing. When you think I’m not paying attention and you’re twirling your hair or attempting to feed a goddamn chipmunk or trying to reason with a cat. You’re fucking nuts.”

“And you’re into it,” I remind him.

“God help me,” he agrees, but he’s smiling.

He leans over me and kisses me, winding his fingers through my hair as he kisses me deeper and slower. Then he trails kisses lower, finding the peaks of my nipples and pulling each one into his mouth and sucking slowly. He presses his hips down so that I can feel how hard he is. I’m so eager that I try to move my hips so that I can slide him inside of me, but all he does is rock above me, angling his cock so that it moves back and forth against my still-sensitive clit.

“Please,” I moan, because I am out of words again.

Then, and only then, does he pull back and press himself at my entrance. He leans back and grabs my thighs, lifting me so that my hips are angled. His cock slides into me, one slow inch at a time. Which I appreciate because as wet and aching for him as I am, he’s a lot. The stretch is fucking delicious and I groan low in my throat. My thighs are bent back towards my torso so my hips are pinned, meaning Warren is completely in control.

I’m into that.

I’m slick and wet and I moan at the feel of him inside me, moving in and out. I come almost immediately, which is very nearly embarrassing. My pussy flutters around his cock, tightening and spasming beyond my control. He grins, then pumps into me harder, sliding deeper and deeper as he thrusts into me.

“That’s one. You wanted to feel me all week, right?” he reminds me with a wicked grin.

Oh, right. That.

Pre-orgasm me cannot be trusted with making threats.

He fucks me harder, not stopping, and I remember that pre-orgasm Audrey gave him a blow job, which probably means he can hold on now for a good long time and between that and his work ethic I’m not sure if pre-orgasm Audrey is a genius or a monster. Then, suddenly, there’s his thumb again, doing those damn circles that—oh, oh, oh!

The threat of a second orgasm rises, harder and sharper than the first one somehow. I want to wriggle away, like it’s somehow too much, but oh—oh… No, it’s impossible that it’s too much. I need more, need him to—

“Don’t stop,” I pant. I’m still pinned in this position he’s got me in and all I can do is arch my back and take what he gives me and—“Oh, God, don’t—”

I scream his name now, surprised at the sound of my own voice as the second orgasm tears through me. I’ve never come like that, not