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One of my hands drops to her right ass cheek, fingers digging into the meaty flesh, while the other reaches up to tug down the lace neckline of her camisole. The pale, rounded flesh of her breast pops free, baring one dusty pink peak, and I roll my thumb over it, relishing in the shiver my touch elicits.

Arching into me, she groans, the guttural sound making our lips vibrate.

“Do that again,” she whispers into my mouth, flicking her tongue over the inside of my upper lip.

My dick jerks at her sultry tone, so far removed from the tentative virgin I practically maimed weeks ago. I don’t know what’s changed, if maybe she lied about not being with anyone else, but as I knot my fist in the hair at the base of her neck, forcing her back to bow and present her perky tits, I realize I don’t fucking care.

At this particular moment in time, she could tell me she’d made her way through the entire city of Boston, and I’d still have this need to sink inside of her.

To make her forget there was ever anyone else before me.

Pulling back, I look into her wide eyes, hazy with lust. “Once we do this…”

She scrapes the back of my neck with her nails, sending a jolt of white-hot electricity down my spine, right to my balls. “Once we do this?”

“I’m not going to be able to stop.”

“Who’s asking you to?”

Wrapping my lips around her nipple, I suck on the puckered peak, dropping my free hand to the top of her thigh. I skim beneath the edge of her shorts, searching for my brand in her skin, moaning around her the second I come into contact with the mark.

A whimper escapes the corner of her lips as I sweep over the scar, traveling farther up her leg. Yanking the material of her shorts to one side, I brush my knuckles over her sopping core, cursing under my breath when I meet unbidden flesh.

“I haven’t worn panties since we got here,” she hisses, cutting off on a moan as I circle her clit with my thumb, pressing until she bucks into the motion.

“No?” I ask, raising up to capture her mouth once again, taking charge as her muscles become more pliant. “Has my slutty little wife been walking around every day, hoping to get fucked?”

“God, yes—”

A harsh, insistent knock raps at the front door, echoing down the hall just as I shove a finger into her warm, deliciously wet pussy. Her hands fall from my neck, clawing at my biceps, alarm flooding her features even as her inner walls spasm around me.

I freeze, stroking forward slightly, listening for my housekeeper’s footsteps.

Silence.

“Marcelline?” I call out, turning my head to look over my shoulder, as if that might give me some sort of insight as to her whereabouts.

“Um,” Elena squeaks, shoving my shoulders. “Can you not say another woman’s name while your finger is inside me?”

I look down at her, cocking an eyebrow. “Jealous?”

Her eyes narrow. “Not at all. Oh, Mateo, that feels so fucking good. Don’t—”

Slipping my index finger from her pussy with lightning speed, I tug her head back and stuff it inside her mouth, interrupting her. “I can’t kill him twice, Elena. Sure that’s a road you wanna go down?”

The knocking starts again, growing in volume, and she hollows out her cheeks, swirling her tongue over my digit. My cock leaks a bead of precum as the memory of her slurping at my length resurfaces; she smiles around the intrusion, finally releasing me with a pop when she’s finished.

“I know you like to keep a clean workspace,” she says. “Tools and everything.”

My mouth parts to say something, but the knocking doesn’t cease, the dull pounding grating on my nerves like nails raked over a chalkboard.

Flexing my fingers in her hair as that familiar irritation takes root in my gut, growing like a weed to the cognitive part of my brain, I inhale sharply and let her go at the same time.

She blinks, her left breast still hanging out of her shirt, rubbed red and raw from my lips and scruff. “You’re not going to answer that, are you?”

“I don’t get a lot of visitors. I kind of think I have to, no?”

“Right, but… we were in the middle of something. Can’t you visit with them some other time?”

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