Free WickedTakeover by Tina Donahue Page A

layover.
    That truth didn’t stop him. Holding her hips, Dante pumped
slowly, watching his thick rod sliding in and out of her sheath, the hard
column of flesh slippery with her juices. It was such an awesome scene, he
slowed even more, wanting Lauren to experience the lazy slide of his cock, its
rigidity and heat, his undeniable passion.
    She whispered something he didn’t catch. The faraway look on
her face reminded him of how he’d been when he lost his virginity. Tonight was
going to be light-years better. Now he knew how to rock and roll. He picked up
his pace. Air hissed through Lauren’s teeth. Not good enough. Dante wanted
everything from her. He leaned over and rubbed her clit. She babbled something
then tightened her sheath around his shaft.
    The room spun. Dante fought his pressing need, determined to
see to hers. He tensed his muscles until they burned. Rivulets of sweat ran
down his torso and back. He did math equations in his head so her satiny warmth
wouldn’t overwhelm him.
    Lauren curled her fingers into fists. Panting hard, she
tightened her cunt around his cock again, this time squeezing him in rhythm to
his thrusts.
    On a strangled gasp, Dante surrendered, unable to resist any
longer. He pounded into her as fast as he could and rubbed her clit as quickly,
driven to give her a ride she’d never get from another man.

Chapter Five
     
    For the first time in Lauren’s life, reality was better than
any fantasy she might have dreamed up. Dante filled her completely, his beefy
cock invading her depths, her strength no match for his. Despite how hard
Lauren squeezed her inner muscles around his shaft, he easily drove inside of
her, the steady tapping of their bodies and their labored breaths the most
beautiful music she’d ever heard.
    God help her, she didn’t want to come. Not yet. Maybe not
ever. That way they’d keep having fun with Dante giving her a sense of
belonging to someone, not being alone any longer or scared. Bills wouldn’t
exist. Rejection would be in the past. She could welcome the future rather than
dreading it and be young as she hadn’t been since childhood when life had gotten
so hard.
    Those years seemed to belong to another life, a sad one
gladly forgotten as too many sensations bombarded Lauren, all of them wanton
and wild. Each of Dante’s strokes on her clit increased the tension between her
legs. Her body ached for relief, her climax coming, building.
    Soaring.
    Lauren wailed her release, not caring how wild she acted,
relishing the freedom it gave her.
    Too quickly the towering sensations passed, yielding to
sweet warmth and feelings she couldn’t resist. Her cunt constricted
rhythmically with her orgasm. She locked her knees but her legs still wavered.
Her head and arms seemed to weigh a ton.
    Despite his growl and heavy breathing, Dante kept thrusting
and stroking her clit.
    Oh hell no. Her poor little nub couldn’t stand the added
stimulation. Lauren grabbed his wrist. Dante twisted it loose and swatted her
hand away. She squirmed but couldn’t flee. His body trapped hers.
    She moaned, “Stop rubbing my clit. I can’t take it.”
    He blew out more air. “I want you to come again.”
    “I can’t.”
    “Bull.” He stroked, rubbed, teased.
    She pressed her fingers into the padded chair and gritted
her teeth. Dante pumped like a freaking machine, his cock thickening inside of
her. It was nearly more than Lauren could take and everything she wanted.
    Her next climax whispered close, swirled away momentarily
then returned with so much force, it almost knocked her down. Her mouth hung
open on a low, throaty groan. Above her, Dante made a strangled sound, managed
one final thrust then roared, his deep baritone booming through the room.
    They panted like dogs. The noise blocked some of the
haunting music that played, the singer’s Spanish words sounding mournful.
Lauren had never felt as pooped or as happy, so deliciously sated. Her cunt
quivered around Dante’s cock,