Page 89 of His Wicked Revenge

Veronica doesn’t hold back with the noises she makes. She moves her hips, grinding on my tongue to provide her more pleasure.

I observe her facial expressions. Her mouth is drawn open, eyes shut, and sweet cries spill from her lips. Her hands meet the headboard, gripping the top of it with all her strength as she comes apart on my tongue.

I lap up every last drop she gives me and continue as she comes down from her orgasm.

“Leo!” It’s a plea for me to stop because the pleasure is becoming too much.

But I don’t plan to stop.

I lift her from my face, which is coated in her arousal and smirk. “I’m just getting started, little angel.”

Roughly, I toss her on the bed. She lands sitting up, but I am quick to get up from my position and twist her until she is lying stomach down on the bed.

Lifting her hips in the air, I line myself up with her entrance and ram into her with so much force that her body moves up on the mattress.

She holds the comforter for support, knuckles turning white as she takes how ruthless I’m fucking her.

Gripping her hips harder, I hold her in place so she can’t move anymore. I’m pouring every emotion I have for this woman with each sharp thrust of my hips.

Hatred.

Thrust.

Revenge.

Thrust.

Longing.

Thrust.

Love.

Thrust.

Slowing my hips down, I pull out of her to drag the head of my cock through her slit.

“I’ll never get enough of you,” I admit while I line myself up at her entrance again.

“Good.” She pants, hair splayed over her face.

As soon as I’m about to enter her again, there is a knock at the door. My eyes dart to my bedroom door.

“Ignore it, Leo,” she begs as her hand removes the hair hiding her face from me. “Keep going.”

I nod, sliding myself gently inside of her, only to still when the knocks continue.

“Police!” The shout is distant, coming from the other side of my front door. But it is enough to throw us both into a panic.

Veronica’s head lifts off the mattress, snapping toward the front door. I slip out of her, already missing her warmth, and climb off the bed to get dressed.

“Leo.” She is scared. If I couldn’t hear it in her voice, I could see the fear on her face.

What’s going through her mind right now? Obviously, she is terrified that the police are knocking on my door early in the morning, given the events that unfolded for her last night. There is no way that they are here because of that.

Is she afraid that I will turn her in?

“Get dressed, Veronica," the demand is soft, and I tear my gaze away from her to search for clothes for her to wear.