Page 102 of Privilege

Those fucking hands of hers slipped under his boxer-briefs, and found his length. His teeth found her pulse point at the same time she squeezed his cock, and stroked him from base to tip. All the while, she kept rolling her hips, and making those noises he just couldn’t get enough of.

So responsive.

So beautiful.

Perfect.

Every inch of her was absolutely perfect for him.

He was two seconds away from burying himself exactly where he wanted to be the most—between her damn thighs again—when a noise in the background drew him back to reality with a harsh yank. Like a damn hand around his throat that practically ripped him away from Lucia.

“Fuck,” he groaned, pressing his forehead against her chest.

Her hands let him go, but skimmed up his bare back at the same time. “It’s fine,” she said, laughing. “Go answer the phone.”

He could have ignored it, except that ringtone meant it was his sister. And the only reason why Rose would be calling was for Diego. No way could Renzo ignore that.

“Yeah, shit, I better.”

Thankfully, Lucia didn’t make any effort to pull him back to her as he pushed away, and clamored off the bed to find his phone. That didn’t mean it was easy, though. All he had to do was peek over his shoulder and see her spread out on the bed with her pussy on display, glistening wet, and ready for him, and he wanted to crawl right back there.

Fuck the call.

But no.

He couldn’t do that.

It took him entirely too long to find the goddamn phone shoved under his forgotten jeans on the floor. How the phone had even made it to there when he’d put it on the bed earlier, he didn’t know. He supposed that was a testament to the mess he and Lucia had made in their popcorn battle.

By the time he did find the phone, it had stopped ringing. Renzo was quick to call his sister back, and Rose picked up before the second ring.

“Sorry,” Rose said in a heavy breath, “I didn’t want to call.”

“I told you to, though.”

His sister’s laugh sounded bleak, but in the background, he could hear Diego wailing, “You said, Rose, you said so!”

“He was fine,” his sister muttered, “and then I mentioned—just to make him feel okay—that if we needed to, we could take him back to you. He took that to mean he was going back home tonight, or you were coming here. When I tried to explain that, no, you were not coming unless he needed you to—”

“He had a meltdown,” Renzo filled in.

“Yeah. Shit, I’m sorry, Ren.”

He didn’t blame his sister.

Diego could be fickle like that. He wanted what he wanted, and nine times out of ten, what the kid wanted was his big brother.

Pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingertips, he turned to glance at Lucia. Instead of laying back spread-eagle on the bed, she had sat up and crossed her legs one over the other. It was a shame, really. He couldn’t see the heaven between her thighs anymore, and she was frowning.

Shit.

He did not want to ruin their day and night, but—

“Diego?” Lucia mouthed.

Renzo nodded.

She shrugged, and offered him a small smile. “You should go get him.”