Claimed By The Possessive Fireman - Flora Ferrari Page 0,10

playful bantering perfection. “Okay, so that hurt. I’m not dreaming, then.”

“This is real,” I tell her huskily. “This is the realest moment of my life. I feel like everything has been leading up to this.”

I slide my hands down her back, keeping one there to prop her up, and then sliding the other up her waist and over her belly moving it toward her breasts.

“You’re not acting?” she murmurs.

“Acting,” I smirk. “I wouldn’t know where to start with you.”

“I feel like I’m playing a character,” she whispers, her voice breathy as I find her breasts and massage them through the tank top, feeling her lust in every quivering motion she makes. “That this is a play. A script. And any second somebody’s going to end the scene.”

“Not us, Lilah,” I say, and for a split second I think of Mark, my best friend.

But this woman in front of me is too vivacious and real and fire hot for me to stop now.

Maybe that makes me a bad man. I don’t know.

“Oh, God,” she whimpers. “I want it, too, Dom. I want it badly.”

“Come here, then,” I growl.

I hug my arms around her and lift her off her feet, making her squeal, and then I sit her down on the obsidian island and kiss her again, this time harder, this time letting go of all that pent-up primal pressure.

She leans into the kiss and then I slide my hands down to her ass, lifting her and then palming it, two fleshy round bulbs that couldn’t be more fucking sculpted for my hands, the flesh shifting sexily, making me hungry, making me want to feel them without the fabric of the skirt between us.

She grinds against my hands until I slip under the fabric, sliding my hand toward her panties, and then stroking her sex.

“I need to feel it,” I whisper hoarsely. “I need to feel how hot and wet you are. I want to be honorable, Lilah, I really fucking do. But I can’t. I need you. Now.”

She buries her face in my neck, moaning, kissing.

Do it, do it.

Her voice is muffled but I can make out the words through the tangle of kisses and desire.

I push aside her panties and stroke my hand along her lips, which drives me so much more feral in real life than it ever could in my mind.

Up, up, I stroke her lips, pushing them apart, and then bring my finger to the engorged nub of her needy fucking clit. When I rub it, she falls away from my neck and starts to moan in my arm.

“Bite down if you want,” I snarl.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she moans.

“I’m not some soft high school punk,” I tell her. “Bite as hard as you want.”

She makes another moan of pleasure as I rub her clit faster, and then bites into my arm with a sweet sting of lust.

I tense my muscles against her teeth and rub her more ferociously, her moans and, most of all, the way she twitches and quivers as I rub driving me to claim her more and more.

I’ve never been much of a musician, but as I strum her soaked nub I feel like I’m playing the best instrument in the world, every sound produced more heavenly than the last.

“Come,” I tell her, whispering close to her ear. “Come all over my hand. Come hard, Lilah, and come now.”

“Ah,” she cries, letting go of my arm and throwing her head back. “Ah, ah, ah.”

I press another finger against her clit and rub faster, harder, with more dominance.

The music reaches a crescendo and then a torrent of creamy release gushes all over my hand and my wrist, drenching me as she grinds side to side and up and down, moaning louder and louder as she squirts thick gorgeous come all over me.

When she’s done, she leans back, her mouth an O-shape.

“I’ve never done that before,” she whimpers.

“What, orgasmed or squirted?”

She opens her mouth to reply, but then there’s a loud crash and a sound like glass breaking from outside.

I leap to my feet, anger lancing through me that anybody would interrupt this moment, that they would dare.

“Wait here,” I tell her.

Her face has drained of color and suddenly our conversation is forgotten. She climbs unsteadily to her feet.

“What is it? Who is it? What’s going on?”

There’s something in the quick-fire way she asks those questions that tells me she already knows.

With a violent tug a thought wrenches into my mind.

She has a