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“I used to think watching you was enough. Not anymore.”
Lucca?
No.
No. No. No!
I whirl around and face off with Lucca. Again. His handsome features are twisted into an intense mix of fury and lust. I cry out when his hand finds my throat in a domineering way that has both my pulse and pussy fluttering. He tugs off my mask, revealing my shocked face, and tosses it to the floor. I’m not worried about getting fired now. I have more pressing matters to contend with—like Lucca fucking Russo in the box back room with me and his mouth is descending on mine. I let out a mewl of protest, but it gets snuffed out the moment his full lips press to mine.
This is how Lucca talks.
Not with words, but with touches, kisses, caresses. He speaks every time he fucks. I used to love his language. Now, I don’t know if I understand it anymore. His groan of pleasure does something inside me. Twists and pulls and tugs. I find my tongue eagerly lashing with his, hungry for his familiar taste.
He slides a hand between us as he kisses me. Gropes my breast and pinches my nipple. I forgot how good it felt to be touched by him. He slides his hand down between my thighs so he can feel the evidence of my arousal.
“Turns you on being watched,” he growls. “I created a monster.”
It’s true. So many times, he’d fuck me, not caring if his roommates saw. I’d loved the thrill of them seeing what they couldn’t have—of those nerds he roomed with watching him as he dominated and owned me. And when we’d go in public, he was always testing my limits. Fingering me at the movies or in restaurants. Always seeing how far he could go.
His fingers rub against my clit, and I whimper. I don’t know what I’m doing right now, but it feels too good to stop. I’ll gather my senses and send him away when it’s over, but right this second, I don’t want to. I want him to touch and kiss me. I want him to make me feel good. Truth is, I missed him. God, how I’ve missed him.
“Wait,” I moan. “Where’s Paul? You can’t be in here.”
“Money makes people suddenly want to take their break. And, I am here,” he says in that arrogant tone that used to make me tremble with need.
Used to?
Hell, it still works.
He fumbles with his belt, and I’m in utter shock. Tell him no. Push him away. He’s an asshole who left me! Certainly don’t assist in frantically pulling at the button of his jeans. Oh my God, I’ve lost my mind.
Once his jeans are down, he lifts me up by my ass, spreading me out for him. This feels so familiar. Our bodies never forget the deliciously erotic song and dance we have when together.
“You know what I like,” he grunts out, barely thrusting his hips against me.
I let out a sharp gasp when his piercings rub along my clit. With a trembling hand, I reach between us, mesmerized at the way the metal feels on my thumb, and ease him to my pussy. He’s unbelievably patient as he watches me guide him into me. Once my body sucks the head of his dick inside, I grip onto his shoulders and rock my hips toward him. The first piercing slides past the tender opening of my pussy, making me moan. I pull slightly out of him, somewhat embarrassed at how my cream coats the tip of his dick.
“You like to watch too.” His words are cocky, but they send shivers of need rippling through me. “Again, Breezy. Deeper.”
At the mention of my nickname, I rock forward again, hissing each time one of the piercings breaches me. It’s the weirdest feeling, but I like it. I like it a lot.
“We don’t have time for me to try out new tricks now that I have this piercing,” he growls. “When I fuck you doggie style, you’re going to lose your fucking mind, because I have a feeling those metal balls are going to feel so fucking good for you on your G-spot, baby. But right now, I need to see your face. Fuck, how I’ve missed this face.”
His lips crash to mine as he loses control. Thunderous thrust after thunderous thrust, he drives into me, making me cry out his name, over and over. He somehow manages to pinch my nipples and grip my throat and slap my ass. His hands are greedy and never stay in one place too long—it’s as though he’s memorizing my flesh.
“Breezy,” he groans when his fingers land on my clit. “Come for me, baby. I’m not going to last long. God I’ve missed this.”
He strums me right into ecstasy without much effort. I’m so wound up and overwhelmed, I greedily accept my long overdue orgasm. This sets him off. He groans in such a guttural way, I feel it down to my marrow, and all I can do is accept him—marvel at the way his cock seems to grow in size as he comes and his piercings press into all my tender inner places. A flood of heat surges inside me, waking me from my stupor.
