Page 121 of Veiled Amor

Lucia had to tip her head back to see him, he let his head hang low, close enough she saw the vein in his throat fluttering wildly.

She backed up, and Capone followed.

“You want feeding, is that right?”

“Y-yes, I do.”

Daring him to deny her, she was a woman running on no sleep and little coffee, she could take him in a fight with the temper she had brewing in the background. No judge in the land would convict her for crimes of passion.

But what did her gorgeous man say?

“Get on with it then, huh?”

Oh, god. Fireworks flew in her abdomen.

There was no need to check. Lucia knew how wet and ready she was for his body.

Grabbing her waist, Lucia would have been delighted had Capone tossed her onto the bed, but he plonked on the edge and dragged her on his lap. Even better. She latched onto his mouth with no prompting and groaned when he opened it for her.

She’d hurt him, betrayed him by lack of disclosure, so she let her mouth do her apologizing, kissing him enthusiastically. There was no gentle introduction. Lucia went in, finding his tongue, forcing it to twine around hers. Capone grunted when she bit his bottom lip, but didn’t pull away.

Her heart was on the verge of exploding out of her chest, to scatter Lucia-shaped confetti all over the carpet. She went into kissing him like a PMS’ing woman would go at a piece of cake.

Sorry, sis, but you know it’s true.

She fingered around his neck, punch drunk on his taste. Lucia clawed at his skin while he squeezed her butt, dragging her against his hard dick.

“You want feeding, Lucia?” She heard between biting kisses,

All night she’d been alone in the apartment, in their bed, so sure he’d come home. As she’d watched the hours tick by, Lucia had grown wearier and scared that they were over. Now she poured those emotions into his mouth.

“Yes, yes.” She cried. Wanting everything from him.

His grabbing hands, perfect tongue, and gorgeous dick, his hard body pinning her, and his filthy words.Feed me, she wanted to cry.

Before she knew it, Lucia was dropped to the floor, and Capone leaned back a little on the bed and unbuckled his belt, his eyes trained on her face and panting lips.

“Then get me out and feed yourself.”

Good god. The man was a thousand-dollar bottle of vino straight to her brain.

There was no grace in the way she fell on him. Her fingers felt sixty times clumsier as she fumbled. “Ugh, aren’t you going to help me?”

“Not when it’s hot as fuck to watch you fight for it.”

Tearing at the zipper, freeing his cock, she sighed with relief before her mouth engulfed the weeping tip.

Ah, god, he was nectar in her mouth. She sucked hard, feeding inches into her lips a bit at a time. When she heard his groan of passion, her chest and stomach inflated with lustful air. Each suck hollowed out her cheeks.

“Good girl,” he told her hoarsely in Spanish.

His praise was a shot of pleasure between her legs, making her creamier than ever. A hand curled around the back of her neck, not controlling her sucks, guiding her to take him. She felt him stroking her hammering pulse, pushing the hair back from her face, she looked up at him with her mouth full, and she’d never felt so loved before.

There was no embarrassment here. Only love to die for. Hunched over his lap, she took what every part of her body craved.

His face was sliced with lust, strained under her administrations; his lips were lax in letting out the puffs of air.

“Ahh,fuck. Two more sucks, that’s it.”

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