Gloria's Forever (Gloria Book 3) by Nelle L'Amour Read Free Book Online Page A

deep in my belly. Flutters erupt between by legs.
    “The musky scent replicates the male pheromone, androstenone. Napoleon ate truffles to increase his masculine potency.”
    I glance down at the big bulge between his legs and laugh. “Well, darling, I don’t think that’s your problem.”
    For a quick second, he takes his eyes off the road and gazes at me. His eyes pierce me through the dark lenses. That dazzling, devilish dimpled smile curls on his lips. Oh yes, lunch is going to be good.
    Jaime returns his focus to the road and turns on the radio. Oh my goodness! The original version of “Gloria” sung in Italian—the inspiration for the Laura Branigan eighties hit—is blasting. It was even featured in the recent Scorcese movie, The Wolf of Wall Street . We bought the fabulous soundtrack. My big, bad wolf has sung it again and again to our twins, convinced it’ll teach them Italian. Personally, I think it’s going to turn them both into raving disco maniacs. We madly sing along. My off-tune voice pales next to his. With his sinfully sexy looks and pitch-perfect raspy voice, he could be a rock star. Take that back. He is a rock star. My rock star.
    An hour into the drive, he stops the car. We’re in the middle of nowhere. Verdant hills illuminated by the afternoon sun surround me, and in the distance, I can see scattered villas and vineyards. The late summer trees, whose leaves have begun to turn into jewels—topaz, garnets, and citrines—shade us. We’re parked on a slice of heaven on Earth.
    No need for sunglasses, we store them in the glove box. Jaime jumps out of the car. “Come on, angel. It’s time to feast.” After opening the passenger door for me, he rounds the little sports car and retrieves our blanket and picnic basket from the trunk. He takes me by the hand and leads me to leafy patch under a majestic chestnut tree. He sets the picnic basket on the ground, and I help him spread the blanket. I’m ironing out the corners when his brawny arms clamp my belly.
    “Come here, you.”
    Those three words that make every part of me melt. I know what’s coming.
    I straighten up and he spins me around. His denim blue eyes burn a hole in mine. He tickles my chin with the tip of my braid, and in a hot breath, he slithers my sundress down my body until it’s a crumpled cotton heap by my feet. I’m standing before him, clad only in my matching floral lace bra and thong from our Springtime is My Time collection. Our time. My breasts quiver in the pre-autumn breeze.
    “Tear off my clothes, Gloria,” he commands.
    Eagerly, I lift his soft tee over his head and then unbutton his jeans. I shove them down his long legs, not surprised to see he’s gone commando. His magnificent cock is already erect. He rubs the tip against my swollen belly. With a soft hiss, he kicks off his shoes and steps out of his jeans.
    “Lie down.” Another one of his bossy orders. Something I’ve gotten used to. Something I’ve come to love. He needs to control me as much as I need to lose control.
    I do as bid. My eyes gaze up at the sculpted masterpiece looming above me. He puts Michelangelo’s David to shame. His massive cock, as hard as marble, points at me.
    “I’m starving, Gloria,” he growls as he lowers himself onto the blanket.
    “But we just had breakfast.”
    He rolls his eyes at me. “I can’t fucking get enough of you.” Squatting next to me, he rips off my bra and panties in a heated breath. My pulse is racing, my pussy pulsing. Goose bumps spread across my flesh.
    “Now bend your knees and spread your legs.” I hear the leering chestnut tree ooh as I do as asked. Jaime repositions himself between them.
    With a seductive smile and eyes hooded, he reaches into our picnic basket and withdraws the bucket of strawberries. Setting it beside him, he plucks out a large perfect red berry by its stem and then circles it slowly around my nipples, one after the other. My nipples pucker and I moan with pleasure.
    His