The Woman on the Exam Table (Costa Family #4) Read Online Jessica Gadziala

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Mafia, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Costa Family Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
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“Hey, Salvatore?” I called, the pulse of desire making me need to press my thighs together as I heard his footsteps coming toward the bathroom.

“What’s up?” he asked, moving inside, and closing the door behind him.

“I need help,” I admitted, feeling the flush on my cheeks at how brazen I was being.

I’d never really been super sexually confident. I liked the task. I was as enthusiastic as I felt comfortable being with any given partner. But I’d never really been one to initiate. And definitely never as boldly as I was doing right then.

“Help with what?” he asked, brows drawing together.

Lifting my hand, I grabbed the edge of the shower curtain, slowly sliding it back, revealing myself to him.

And if I ever had a moment of doubt about doing so, it all melted away as his head slammed back against the bathroom door and a rough, “Fuck,” escaped him.

I stood there, watching his hungry gaze slide over me for a long moment before asking, “Are you going to help me or not?”

Even over the water running and splashing off the shower floor, I could hear the little growling noise that moved through him as he reached up behind his neck and pulled off his shirt as he kicked out of his shoes.

His pants and boxer briefs were off next, but he took a second to grab a condom for his already straining cock, bringing it with him as he moved into the shower stall, backing me against the wall, and claiming my lips.

I melted into him for a moment, into the intimacy, the rush of sexual power I felt right then.

It wasn’t long, though, before my body was screaming for touch, for release, for more.

My hands moved out, running down the slope of his back to sink into his ass, pulling him closer to me as my thigh lifted, sliding up the side of his hip, opening myself up to him.

Salvatore’s teeth snagged my lower lip, pulling to the point of pain as his cock settled against my cleft—a thick, hard promise—and my hips started to rock against him, building just enough friction to start driving me up.

His hands started to roam then, too, sliding down my sides, then back up to close over my breasts, rolling my nipples into buds as I continued to rock against him, feeling that pressure build inside until it was so acute it was almost painful.

“Fuck,” Salvatore hissed, his hips rocking against me. “I need to be inside you,” he growled as my writhing got faster.

Reaching between us, he made short work of protecting us before he was grabbing my ass with both hands, yanking me up until I had no choice but to wrap my legs around his waist, pinning them there as best I could with his slippery skin.

My back slammed against the shower wall before his cock surged inside of me.

Hard.

Deep.

There was no such thing as control right then as the need gripped our systems.

My arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer so our lips could find each other’s again, muffling the sounds of pleasure in the echoey space.

“You feel so fucking good,” he growled against my lips as he drove me closer and closer, making my walls tighten around his cock.

If I could manage words right then, I would tell him the same.

“Feel how you’re squeezing me?” he asked, fucking me faster, knowing how close I was. “Come around my cock,” he demanded.

And just like that, I did.

He fucked me through it, but came with me, both of us crushing our lips together, trying to keep the pleasure of that moment between the two of us.

“Did that solve the problem?” he asked, climbing back in after dealing with the condom, dripping water carelessly all over the bathroom floor in the process.

“I dunno,” I said, leaning into him when he pulled me flush against his front, my breasts crushing against his chest. “I have a feeling that this might be, you know, an ongoing issue in need of treatment.”

“Really? That sounds pretty serious,” he said, shooting me a devilish smirk. “Just know I take your health very seriously, so anytime you need more… treatment, you just let me know,” he said, and we were both still smiling as his lips pressed to mine.

Softer.

Sweeter.

Then, and I kid you not, this man reached for the body wash… and started to wash me. His hands slid over damn near every inch of my body, igniting tiny fires that sizzled out because the moment wasn’t meant to be sexual. Just… intimate.

When he was finished, I reached for the bottle too, doing the same for him, getting to know every inch of his perfect body. Every jagged and smooth scar. Every birthmark. Every tattoo. And I had a fun time trying to figure out which of his were done professionally, and which were done with a pen and a needle inside prison walls when officers weren’t watching.


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