Page 61 of Chicago Sin

Hannah’s orgasm is so powerful, she’s shaking even while mine rips through my body, taking over and shaking me to my core. I don’t want to stop. I want to stay inside her forever, feel her body pull me deeper, keeping me here, connected.

I continue to come, still banging her hard, and she bites her lip, arches her back and screams some more. Her pussy contracts around my dick, pulsing and squeezing with her climax.

Christ, she’s everything.

She really is.

I slow down and stroke slowly for a while, taking it down to a caress then finally stopping and feeling my cock pulse and twitch inside her with the aftershocks.

“Bella.”

She frowns and lifts her head from the pillow. “What?”

“You’re beautiful.”

“Did you just call me by another woman’s name?” Her voice is sharp and offended.

A snort of laughter surprises me. Jesus. When’s the last time I laughed?

“No, I said bella. It means beautiful in Italian.” I ease out and pull off the condom, reaching behind me to drop it in the trash by the bed.

“Oh.” She goes soft and receptive again. Fuck, I love how receptive she is. I’m also loving her jealousy. “Do you speak Italian?”

I settle beside her and stroke my palm over her hip. “A little. I understand it better than I speak it. I’m second generation American, so my grandparents speak it.”

“Wow.” She turns into me, her palm coming to rest on my chest. “Are you always… like this?”

I push a swatch of curls over her shoulder, so I can see her gorgeous breast. “Like what?”

She chews her lip. “Like this in bed.”

I only partially manage to hide my surprise. I learned a long time ago that any time you get a woman to talk about sex, you don’t do anything to shut that communication down. Hannah wants to talk—I’m in. Even if I am so far out of touch with my emotions, I’m a robot.

I consider. “No. I don’t think so. I used to have more game. My techniques were... more stylized. I even thought sophisticated. But with you…” I close my eyes letting pleasure of what we just did wash over me. “It’s more raw. Hungry. Almost desperate.”

She blinks at me. There’s vulnerability shining in those sultry brown eyes, but I’m not sure what she needs me to say. Or if I already fucked this up.

“Every time we do it, something in me thaws,” I admit.

More vulnerability washes over her face, and her breath quickens. Is her lower lip trembling?

I come out with it—all the honesty I know how to give. “You’re healing me.”

Her eyes fill with tears, and she lets out a puff of air. I cup her face, trying not to react to the tears. A couple spill down her cheek, and I thumb one away.

“You’re destroying me.” Her voice chokes with tears.

I freeze. Stop breathing.

What is she saying? What is she telling me here? Fuck.

That shifty thing happens again in my chest.

“How?” My whole body’s tense for her answer.

She sits up, and I follow. “Armando, what is this? I don’t even know what we’re doing, but I know it’s a bad idea.”

Aw, shit. My heart stops beating. My chest goes stiff.