Page 76 of Playboy’s Purgatory

She snatches the condom from my hands and looks down. The way she’s looking at my cock is dangerous as fuck.

A growl comes from deep in my chest when her fingertip trails over my shaft. When she touches where my three ladder piercings run along the top, I shudder. She wraps her hand around the underside and strokes.

“Beautiful torture,” I groan and her face lights up.

Before she can make me cover her belly in cum, I pick her up under her thighs and walk right into the shower. The water rains down from above us as I press her against the tile wall.

“You’re going to need to roll that condom on, Cupcake,” I murmur against her lips.

Before she can take a breath, my mouth slams down on hers and I pry her lips open. Our tongues find each other, a dance, a fight, a surrender.

When my mouth trails along her jaw and down her neck, her breathing is ragged while she rips the condom open and sheathes me.

I grunt against the sensitive skin right below her ear, “Are you wet for me, Lara?”

“Yes,” she moans, her wet tits sliding against my chest as she arches her back.

“Good.”

It’s the only warning she gets before I fill her completely with one brutal thrust. “Fuck,” she pants out, her nails biting into me deliciously.

“I don’t want to make you late,” I grit out through my teeth, “but I’m not letting you start the day without being inside you.”

“Jettson,” she moans, her back arching and her hips moving to meet my thrusts. Her blue eyes are glazed over with bliss.

With a rotation to my hips, I slam up and pull her down, my fingers tightening their grip. Her walls tighten around me, and a flush works its way along her neck. She’s close.

“Come for me, my Cupcake,” my voice is a harsh demand, my breathing picking up as my movements become deeper, longer, and harder.

“Holy,” she gasps before mewling, “more.”

“Fuck, yes,” I growl, my pace picking up slightly.

Her thighs tense just before her orgasm pulls her under. She gasps as her head tips back against the tile and I hunch over her. The grunt that comes out of me is feral and, not for the first time, I wish I wasn’t wearing a fucking condom.

I kiss her as electricity shoots up my spine and my balls draw up. Her walls squeeze around me and I’m fucking done.

Filling her completely, the first jet of cum has stars dancing in front of my eyes. I nip at her bottom lip and swallow down the rest of her moans.

Our breaths combine as I pull away just enough. With our foreheads touching, we simply stand there for a long moment.

When she’s able, I help her stand and then wash her, and me, up quickly. But thoroughly. Because it’s not something you cut corners on. Not when it involves having my hands on my woman.

After getting dressed, we head downstairs. She doesn’t look at me like she wants to kick me out and I’m more than willing to let it ride. Why not?

I’m already up. Might as well spend my time well.

“Do you get up every morning at this time?”

“Not every morning anymore,” Lara says over her shoulder as he points to a stool and gives me a look.

I sit. Because I know that look. I used to see it in the clubhouse kitchen all the time. On the face of the Old Ladies. When we were just club brats without a fucking clue.

My eyes track her as she pulls ingredients out of the fridges first, counting to herself under her breath as she does. I think I could watch this show all damn day.

“I’ve hired a few good people, and I don’t have to be up first thing, but I do like doing it. I like making sure everything being made is done right. Even though I trust my employees, there’s nothing like doing it yourself.” She chuckles and shrugs before pulling out a large container from a different fridge. “I guess I have some control issues.”

“At least you hired some people,” I point out.