Page 33 of Possessive Mafia Bodyguard

I climb onto the bed, and she spreads her legs wide to accommodate me. “Do you trust me?” I repeat my question from earlier in the day.

“To make me come?” She slants her eyes wickedly. “Of course.”

I smile. “Your faith in me is a real ego boost, do you know that?”

“I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.”

I lower myself on top of her, supporting my weight on my elbows, and pull her knees up, positioning her feet over my shoulders. “Do you trust me not to hurt you?”

“Yes.” She doesn’t hesitate.

“Good.” I slap her ass cheek with the flat of my hand, and her eyes widen. “Do you want more?”

She sucks on her top lip to suppress her smile. “I’m not going to scream if that’s what you’re asking.”

“That’s good enough for me.”

I slap her ass again, a little harder this time, feeling the sting in my palm, and she responds by pulling her knees towards her and rubbing her pussy against my chest.

I sit back on my haunches and grip her ass in both hands, noting the faint red marks on her skin left behind from my fingers. Then I bury my face in her pussy. I drag my tongue from the entrance between her ass cheeks, across the tender flesh to her pussy, and suck on her juices, tugging her folds between my teeth, driven by her panting, and her trembling thighs.

“Don’t stop.” Her words are accompanied by short shallow gasps.

I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to. Twenty-four hours, and I’m totally addicted to this woman who wandered into my life and turned it upside down.

I slap her ass cheek again, the sound splitting the air in the room. My mouth finds her clit, and I lick it from all angles, softening it with the flat of my tongue and licking some more. Tamara rests her booted feet on my shoulders, her knees touching the headboard, and rubs her pussy in my face, demanding more, reminding me of the challenge without words.

I insert a finger between her ass cheeks, and her pussy clenches.

“You like that?” I feel her juices coating my tongue, my chin, and trickling down my throat, and I’ve never tasted anything sweeter.

“Yes.” She’s still watching me, committing everything we do to memory.

“Are you ready to come for me?”

“Yes.”

I don’t waste a beat. I flick her clit with the tip of my tongue until it spasms out of control, her body going limp as she surrenders to her orgasm. Then I guide my cock inside her while her body is still in the throes of her climax.

I grip the headboard while I find my rhythm, my strokes slow and deep to begin with, growing harder and faster with the pressure of her feet on my shoulders and her hips thrusting upward to meet me.

“Kiss me, Finn.”

Hearing her speak my name is the fingertip that pushes me over the edge.

I fill her mouth with my tongue, and her eyes roll back in her head when she tastes her juices. My hips move to their own beat. My cock throbs with the climax waiting to explode, which happens when she whimpers into my mouth, her pussy clenching around me as her climax meets mine, and I surrender to my own pleasure.

My body shudders, my legs twitching like I ran a marathon with no warm-up. I unclamp my fingers from around the headboard and cradle her head in my arms, smoothing her hair away from her face while her body goes limp beneath me.

“Say my name,” I murmur.

“You want me to scream it?” Her voice is low and sultry.

“No.” I kiss her lips tenderly. “I want to hear you say it, that’s all.”

“Finn.” She sucks her taste from my tongue. “Finn Twomey, my Irish giant.”

My heart wants to explode.