Page 35 of The Chaos She Brings

I can’t think of anything other than her hot mouth around my cock. The way her cheeks hollow out as she sucks me down.

Her hair is in a messy ponytail, I wrap the strands around my fist and start fucking up into her, thrusting my hips from the bed. She hums in the back of her throat and my balls tighten. Her gorgeous green eyes bore into mine—tears leaking from the corners—as she takes all of me.

Then she pulls back, and I can’t stop the groan that slips past my lips. She grins before spitting, letting it drip down onto my aching cock, then she pumps my length with one hand while lavishing me with her tongue once more—it feels like pure heaven.

I’ve never seen a more beautiful sight than Tess—my cock in her mouth, spit dripping down her chin, tears springing to her eyes as she sucks me dry.

“Fuck. Fuck. You’re going to swallow everything I give you, aren’t you?” I groan, my voice raw and deep, pulling at her hair.

She continues her efforts, until my dick twitches and my release shoots from me, hitting the back of her throat as she swallows every drop.

She releases me with a pop then sits up grinning as she licksher lips.

I pull her head toward me, swiping my tongue through her mouth before pulling back.

Her eyelids droop, her breathing soft as she looks at my sleepily, a satisfied smile on her face.

I’m too tired to complain when she curls her body into mine, her head resting on my chest. Within minutes her breathing evens out, and tiny snores are the only noise in the room.

I should wake her up. Tell her to go. Now the adrenaline is starting to fade, I'm left with an uncomfortable feeling. This can never be anything more than this. No matter how good she feels pressed against me.

Which is why I shouldn’t tighten my arms around her.

And I shouldn’t burrow my face into her hair and inhale like her scent is the only thing that can soothe me.

I definitely shouldn’t be thinking about how good her pussy would feel squeezing my cock.

But I do, do all of that. And it’s not long before exhaustion has me joining her in sleep.

It feels like I’ve been asleep for five minutes when a sharp knock sounds at the door.

I shoot upright, heart racing.

Tess stirs next to me; her brows scrunched in confusion.

Another knock.

Realisation dawns. “Oh, shit. That’s Enzo.”

We scramble for our clothes, cursing under our breath as we rush to get dressed.

“Who’s Enzo?” she asks, her head popping out of her top, looking flustered.

“He’s a friend,” I reply quickly, adjusting my shirt. “He has info on the men who broke into your flat.”

I can see the tension coil in her expression, but before I can say anything else, another knock echoes through the door.

“Let’s just go see what he has to say,” I mutter, holding my hand out. She takes it, and we both head for the stairs, the air between us thick and hazy.

I check the peephole to make sure it’s him before opening the door.

There he is, his usual calm demeanour replaced by a thunderous expression.

“What took you so long?” he asks, his tone clipped.

His gaze shifts from me to Tess, who’s standing too close, still a little flushed, her hair tangled. It doesn’t take much for him to piece together what’s happened.

He laughs, a dry chuckle that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I see.”