Page 141 of Jealous Billionaire's Endless Regret

Krystal gasped, arching into his mouth.

He moaned against her, the vibration shooting straight through her chest as his tongue flicked over the hardened peak again andagain, hungry and slow. His hand moved to the other breast, thumb teasing the nipple there, squeezing gently.

Then he switched, sucking the other nipple, biting it just enough to make her cry out, then soothing it with his tongue like he was addicted to every sound she made.

Her hands fisted in his hair, her back arched as her nipples were licked, nibbled, and sucked until they throbbed, raw and tingling.

Lorenzo finally pulled back, his lips red, her skin glistening with his mouth.

He stepped back for a heartbeat just to look at her.

Her breasts heaving, nipples already stiff. Her skin flushed. His eyes darkened with lust as he stared like she was the most beautiful, sinful thing he'd ever seen.

Then he dropped to his knees.

He kissed her stomach, slowly. Not gentle—wet, open-mouthed kisses that dragged down her skin, leaving heat and goosebumps in their wake. His hands slid down her hips, gripping her tight as his tongue traced the dip of her navel.

“You drive me fucking insane, baby,” he muttered against her skin. “You have no idea what I’ve been holding back.”

Then his mouth went lower. His fingers hooked into the waistband of her panties and yanked them down—slow enough to make her breath hitch, rough enough to make her knees weaken.

He pushed her back onto the bed, grabbed her thighs, and spread them wide.

“Fucking perfect,” he growled, staring at her slick, swollen folds. “All mine.”

His tongue was on her in the next second.

Chapter 29 You’re Mine

He licked her like a man obsessed—slow, deep strokes at first, teasing her clit with the flat of his tongue, then flicking fast and sharp until she gasped his name. Her hips bucked, but he only held her down harder, forcing her to take every second of it.

His tongue circled her clit while his fingers slid into her—two at once, curling inside her, hitting the spot that made her cry out.

“God—Lorenzo!”

He groaned into her like her moans turned him on even more. He sucked her clit hard, then softer, then hard again, keeping her right on the edge. Her thighs were shaking. Her breath was broken. Her fingers clawed at the sheets, at his shoulders, anywhere she could hold on.

She came with a violent cry, back arching, thighs squeezing his head, and he didn’t stop.

He licked her through it, tasting every drop of her, letting her ride it out as long as her body would allow. When he finally pulled back, his mouth and jaw were soaked. His lips curved in a wicked, satisfied smile.

Then he stood.

His clothes were off in seconds. His shaft—thick, hard, already leaking—sprang free and slapped against his abdomen. Krystal’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of it, her breath still coming in small, shaky gasps.

Lorenzo climbed over her. His body hovered above hers, the head of his rod rubbing through her wet folds, teasing her again.

With one hard thrust, he slammed into her, burying himself deep.

She cried out, head snapping back, body stretching around him. He was thick. So deep it felt like he was tearing her apart and filling her at the same time.

Lorenzo groaned, his forehead pressing against hers as he stilled for a second, letting her adjust.

“Fuck,” he hissed. “You feel like heaven. So fucking tight.”

Then he started moving—slow at first, deep strokes that made her legs quake. He pulled almost all the way out, then slammed back in, over and over, each thrust rougher, faster, hungrier.

Her body responded with every motion. Her hips lifted to meet his. Her nails dragged down his back. Her moans filled the room.

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