Page 29 of Effortless

“We’ve got the accent, Tom.”

“Okay, I did not want to pull this one out of my pocket, Cam.”

She tried to glare again, but she could still feel the graze of his lips against hers as he talked, and that made it hard. “Pull what out?”

“Chicago-style deep dish pi—”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Pizza,” he finished. “I know it’s your favorite because you had a box of leftovers in your fridge, and one in the trash.”

“August ordered them!”

“Liar. Someone’s cheating on New York, and it isn’t fucking me, Cam.”

“I hate you,” she hissed.

“No you don’t.”

He looked so damn smug.

His grin was enough to melt her panties off.

“Trying really hard to keep hating you right now, Tom, but mostly I just want to fuck you.”

“We could probably make it back to the car in like …” He glanced down at his watch. “Ten minutes or—”

Camilla was already darting behind him, and back the way they had come. He chased after her with a laugh.

Camilla was still stretched full with nine inches of Tommaso Rossi. She could taste her own cum from when he’d kissed her after having his head between her thighs, and she wasn’t through the aftershocks of her third orgasm. He had two of his fingers buried deep in her ass, while his fingers grabbed hard enough to her hip to leave bruises.

She loved it.

Being well into September, it sure as hell wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t really warm, either. The car was still hot enough from their fucking that she didn’t even care about the cool air starting to whisper along her skin.

His teeth dug into her jaw as he yanked her down harder onto his cock. It ached in the best possible way. So deep, and right to her very bones. She’d already rode him to her second and third release, but he was working her body now. Pulling her onto his cock, and letting her work her clit with the tips of her fingers all the while.

When his lips grazed hers again, she could taste the salt from her skin on his tongue. She liked the way she tasted on him.

She could come again.

If he just kept fucking her like he was, it would happen.

“Christ, Cam, you’re so goddamn wet.”

Yes.

“And hot, babe.”

All over.

She was thanking car manufactures for dark tinted windows, New York weather for the blast of rain that sent people scattering from the lot to find shelter, and this man under her because she was about to come again.

“I want that cunt of yours to give me what’s mine, Cam. Don’t you want to come on my cock again?”

In her ear, his voice was husky. Gravelly, and thick. Her name crossed his lips, and she was a goner.

So blissed.