Femme Fatale (Pericolo #1)

I shake my head fiercely, trying to forget all of the wonderful things he’s said to me. “We’ll never be much more than this,” I claim and try to still myself from cracking in half and revealing myself an absolute fucking liar.

“Then give me tonight.” His voice begs, his eyes plead, and his hands tighten upon my waist. “It’s a simple request. Just cave for tonight, and I’ll back off.”

“Fuck it.” I succumb to the greed.

I move closer to him again, landing upon his chest and find my lips meeting his in a bittersweet union. Both of us no longer yield our feelings; we fall into them with a roughness only heightened by our hunger for one another. The eighteen months we had apart being a driving force we fight to find ourselves.

I find myself too constricted in my jeans, and I pull away long enough to push them away, deliberately forcing my panties down with them. The only piece of clothing I have on is my bra, and I can see that Zane is itching to free himself of his boxers and take me completely. I grin wickedly and reach behind me, undoing my bra and slipping the straps down my arms in a slower motion, but stop to press the lace material against my breast and hinder the provocation.

“Don’t be a fucking tease, Amelia. Baby, I can’t take it,” he practically whines at me with sudden desperation as I keep my bra clasped against my chest.

I tilt my head to the side. “What do you mean, don’t be a tease? You always thought it was my middle name.”

I see him rub himself, trying to ease the sudden tightness in his boxers. “Sweetheart, I’m still convinced it is.”

“It is,” I reprove and drop my bra, sitting before him entirely naked for the first time in over a year.

“Fuck,” he breathes and lifts up to force his boxers down.

“Stop,” I command, as he goes to grab me, and I just offer him that same grin. He sits back, and I reposition myself so I have a perfect spot to lean down and give him a blowjob. My heart races with exhilaration and as I reach for his already erect penis, my sensuality comes to play. I give one last look up at him before I kiss the tip, lick around it, and grip it tight. I remember just how he likes it and how to push him to his barest limit. I hear him groan and move my hand to stimulate him even more. I hear him swear as I take as much of his length as I possibly can, and I work him to a pleasurable state.

Zane reaches out, taking my hair in his hands, keeping me on his penis. However, when he starts to force my head down onto him with choking force, I have to rein him back. Gently, I apply pressure around his cock with my teeth reminding him of who’s in total control here. When he yelps in pain and releases me, I slowly ease him out of my mouth and sit back up.

“Really?” I say to him. I’m trying to be stern, but I can’t when I’m highly amused. “You should know better than to do that to me, Maverick.”

“You dominating little bitch,” he cusses and leans forward so fast I’m caught unaware when he grabs me and turns himself while forcing me onto his lap. He now sits like a normal passenger, me teetering over his knees. “We’re both running this.”

He drags me forward, hands solidly gripping on my waist, my knees hitting the seat on either side of him. He penetrates me whole, and my head flies back. Fuck. I forgot how good this felt, I forgot what sex with a man I felt something for was like. I forgot that sense of euphoria that sizzles in my veins and short wires my brain. He awakens me with a quick withdrawal and a harder penetration, and my head flies back down. My hands fall, palm down, against his chest and I begin to join the motion of welcoming a heavenly state for the both of us. I grind on him, forcing his length in and out of me, my body weakening with rapid speed.

“Fuck,” I mutter in breathlessness, and end up gripping the back of the seat as I bounce upon his length with an eager hunger. Our speed is rushed, but the looming ecstasy that is steaming up the windows of the car is all worth it. He plunges so deeply into me; my breath is stolen each time. I have no time to ready for the next, even when I’m the one forcing his penetrations.

As ecstasy rushes through my veins, heating me, forcing me to convulse around him pleasantly, yet he still doesn’t slow for a moment. My orgasm forces an unnatural bark of insane bliss to unravel from my throat. My hand hits the windows to our right, dragging down across the condensation misting the glass, leaving my handprint behind as I crash down from cloud nine. As my orgasm begins to dwindle, I feel Zane fill me as he cums, too. We’ve both now crashed and burned.

He reaches up, finally releasing his bruising grip on my hips, and cradles my face. “That’s how it’s supposed to be,” Zane murmurs after his own comedown. “You’re made to cum because of me. No other man should know your body but me.”

Kirsty-Anne Still's books