His eyes move down from my breast and rock-hard nipples, past my smooth, tiny waist and to the tiny lace triangle hiding his solitary goal.
“You’re still dressed, Detective,” I give a sly smile. “And now I’m freezing. Is that fair?”
Evan nods, and climbs to his knees. He takes one of my boobs in his hands and flicks it softly with his tongue. Mmmm, every single time his tongue brushes my skin, my toes curl.
This is torture. It feels so fucking good.
Then he shows my other breast the same amount of attention. My hands go to Evan's hair, fingers massaging the mass of chocolate-brown curls. His tongue and lips begin to leave a sweet, wet trail down my chest. He plants a smooch to my belly button, hands over my abs and he bites my panties pulling them down with his teeth.
He sits up, leaning over me. Silently his golden eyes taunt me with delights that are yet to be had. His hand slides down my belly. My breath hitches, moist pussy ready. Yet his hand slides back up over my breast, as his hips hitch to the left in pure amusement. Evan then squeezes both my breasts before allowing his large hand to trail its way back down again. He pets between my legs. Not delving into the gift I have to offer him, but allows his hand to cup over my trembling pussy.
“Open your legs wider, Reese,” Evan’s order sends a thrill up my spine. My legs slip apart, giving him a visual of my bare pussy walls.
Evan takes in a breath as if the sight before him is magnificent, new, a sight to behold. “If I could, I would paint— ”
“Not over my dead body,” I snap, though inwardly giddy at how attracted he was just staring at the sight of my luscious, silken folds.
Evan places a hand to his lips. “Shhh.”
My face beams in a smile as I stay quiet.
He leans down. My heart skips a beat. His face is poised inches away from my slit. Evan’s finger barely grazes against my clit. I shudder to his touch. “You’ll let me paint your gorgeous, sweet pussy?”
And because I’m not dumb enough to deny him, and live, I utter the word, “yes.”
Evan smiles.
I inwardly grumble, fingers clutching the sheets.
“Don’t tense, Reese.” His warm breath glides over my thigh as his finger traces along the lips of my womanhood. When satisfied that I’m no longer seizing and twisting the linen, the pad of Evan’s finger slides over my clit.
“You’re getting wetter,” his tone has deepened.
“Evan, fuck me, baby,” I moan, my hips twirl attempting to coax his finger inside of me.
“Open your legs wider.”
His finger penetrates my body, my eyes flutter closed, and I nearly faint. Two fingers begin to stroke, pace quickening by the second.
My mouth opens wide, head tilted back. At my brink, Evan hefts my legs over his shoulders one after the other.
I die in this moment, he growls against my thighs, his nose nudging my pussy.
When he touches his tongue to the lips of my labia, it’s as if my body opens wide for him. I inhale deeply through my nose and arch my hips granting him full access. His tongue plunges into my body. His nose prods at my clit, adding to the titillating stimulation. My pussy has become a sugary confection as his long tongue works its way to my g-spot. Pure bliss feathers my entire body. He growls like a beast and my hips buck. My legs start to spasm, first orgasm radiating throughout my soul. Evan tastes every morsel I have to offer.
I sink into the pillow incapable of lifting even my head.
Evan sits up again, and pulls his undershirt over his head.
“Condom… condom. Put on a condom,” I beg.
29
Evan
“There's no fucking way, I'm wearing a condom, Reese's Pieces.” She’s already on the pill. The monstrosity of a story Lolita spun a few months ago has Reese paranoid. These days, protection during sex is our only argument.
“But my mom said–”
“Okay, it's true. Lolita said if you have a son, Milo’s father is going to take interest. You're taking birth control pills. Good. I kinda want the wife and house before the baby crib. But either way, I'm giving you a son first.”
The saccharine from her pussy is on my lips, coating my tongue, enticing me before she pulls away. My body sinks into the mattress. I grumble and cuss under my breath. More. Fuck the Giugliano family! Arguments between us have become seldom. The only time we fight is when it has something to do with fucking Giovanni. A man I don’t give two shits about. Reese begins to rise from the bed.
I grab her hand, sit on the edge of bed, and pull her down onto my lap. “So after I marry you, Reese, my son will grow in your womb.” My eyes bore through hers as Reese glances at me from the dresser mirror. Hand caressing her tummy, I say, “One day when we have our son, I dare that motherfucker to come out of the woodwork, Reese. You’re gonna be pregnant with a Zaccaro baby boy, there’s a million of us. Despite that, I don’t even need an army of Zaccaros to keep my son safe.”
“Stop being so machismo.” She tries to softly elbow me.
“Hey, even your mom believes in us Zaccaros.” Reese told me her mom had saved up a few millions of dollars from all of her past marriages. That’s why Lolita never pinched not one penny to help Reese with the bakery. She’s a true example of what a mother would do for her child. Now Lolita is Tony's wife, and anticipates staying as much. Part of the money Lolita had put away for safe keeping, if she and Reese ever needed to flee, has been placed into the reconstruction of Flour Shoppe in a
