I Have Been Dying to Eat You Nikita Mirzani 2

Nikita Mirzani sucked in a sharp breath when he pushed his middle finger inside her. Her tight, plush sex sucked at him greedily, and his eyes grew heavy-lidded, lust riding him hard. Pressing his heel to her clit, he massaged her, getting her ready for the pounding drives of his cock.

He’d meant to talk with her first, but she was hot for it and God knew he was hot to give it to her. Stumbling through his life without her had been torture. At times, he thought he’d go insane from the need to hear her voice and feel her body against his.

The kids stepped off at the next stop. The car continued its ascent to the forty-fifth floor with only the two of them on board.

“I’ve missed you,” he said gruffly.

In answer, she thrust her desire-slick pussy into his hand. “You’ve missed this.”

Her cool voice sliced into him, but her body betrayed her. She was scorching hot and delectably wet. As he finger-fucked her juicy cunt, soft sucking noises filled the car. Her composure lost, she gripped the brass handrail and moaned, shamelessly widening her stance.

The moment the car reached his floor, Zack pulled his fingers free and caught her up, tossing her over his shoulder and dropping his empty bottle in the trash can conveniently placed just outside the elevator.

He had a condom between his teeth and his keycard in hand before he reached his suite. Kicking the door open, he propped Nikita Mirzani against the inside of the stationary half of the double-door entrance. His button fly was open before the latch clicked shut.

His jeans dropped to the entryway’s tile, the weight of his chained wallet hitting the floor with a thud. A moment later, her lacy underwear fell from her fingers and fluttered down. As he sheathed his cock in latex, Nikita Mirzani pulled her dress up to take him.

Zack paused to look at her, his chest tightening. She was unruffled elegance above the waist and a walking wet dream below it. Her legs were long and lithe, her sex pouty and glistening.

He’d been dead when she came into his life, frozen in grief over the death of his son and the subsequent dissolution of his already-broken marriage.

That first elevator ride with Nikita Mirzani had been like a flipped switch, jolting him out of his coma. She’d forced the air back into his lungs and the blood back through his veins. He had begun to live for the weekends he spent with her, craving her laughter and smiles, her touch and her scent.

But when she’d suggested they take their relationship to the next level, he had panicked, prompting her to walk out on him with her head held high and his heart in her hands.

Reminded of how damned lucky he was to have her ready and willing again, Zack pinned her slender body against the door and took her mouth in a lush, hot kiss. His lips sealed over hers, his tongue gliding along the lower curve before slipping inside.

She was stiff at first, resistant, which got his guard up. When it came to physical intimacy, they’d never had any barriers between them.

As he stroked his tongue along hers, Nikita Mirzani reached for his cock and slung one leg around his waist. She jacked him with both hands, making him so hard and thick he groaned into her mouth and slickened her fingers with pre-cum.

She used him to prime herself, massaging the tiny knot of her clitoris with the head of his dick. Impatient, he brushed her hands aside and tucked his cockhead into her slit. She was so ready, he slipped through her wetness and sank an inch inside her.

As her cunt fluttered around him, his chest heaved with the loss of his control. What he wanted was to nail her to the door with pounding thrusts; what she needed was to know that he was committed to making their relationship work.

“Hurry,” she hissed.