Especially when he rubbed his cock against my soaked entrance, only to rub it between the folds of my ass, then back down again. He took a fistful of my hair, pulled my face back, and entered me in a thrust so hard, so deep, I lost my breath.
He said something in low, sharp Italian. I only understood the last word.Wife.He repeated it in English. “Open your eyes, my wife.”
Crown me as the loser, because I lost. I was so fucking lost when he was inside me. I wasn’t a star in the sky, but a starfish drifting aimlessly in the sea, Matteo Fausti the tide directing me.
My eyes slowly opened to his.
His irises were dilated, all the brown run out by black. I couldn’t have burned any brighter in his eyes if I was an actual star in the night sky, no electricity around for miles and miles and miles.
He pulled my hair a little harder. “My patience was fucking tested.” He pulled out of me slowly, touching every sensitive nerve inside of me, only to come back harder, go even deeper.
I screamed out, reaching for something to hold on to on the counter, but only found smooth, cool marble. I wasn’t sure howhe did it, but whatever he was doing, he was going so deep, I wondered if he had hit something vital. But after the pain faded, a warmth, a pleasure, like I’d never felt before filled me up like his cock did.
He moved inside of me, and even though I was stretching to accommodate him, it took me a minute. My body was trying to expand, and I was trying to catch my breath.
“My patience,” he said, his words clipped and hot. He bit his lip, like he had to control the pleasure rushing through him too. “My patience was fucking tested when it came tomywife tonight. And every other fucking day and night when greedy eyes keep taking in what belongsto me.” He spread my ass cheeks, his eyes starving for what he was seeing.
All I could see washim.
Hisbody hard, a tool to get me to surrender.
All I could feel washim.
Hispossessiveness covering me like desire to an unlawful degree.
Why was I even mad at him earlier?
I couldn’t even fucking remember.
All I could feel was how he felt—fucking mad with something that was driving him, possessing him, with the need to claim me. To claim me in a way he’d never claimed me before. A need to bruise me down to the bone and leave his scent all over my flesh.
He slid almost all the way out, and just when I thoughtI’dgo mad with need, he thrust his hips forward and started fucking me like he’d never fucked me before. When I started to moan and cry out, he growled low in his throat, and the noise took control of my hips. I started to meet him thrust for thrust, the sweat from my body making it so easy to move against the marble. My breasts were pressed against it, and it was causing cold friction against my nipples.
He growled, this time louder, and lifted me up by the hair. My body was in full view through the mirror, and though we were connected from behind, my breasts were jiggling to the frantic and wild rhythm of our sex.
“Fuck!” he roared. “Fuck!”
Sweat poured down my body, my hair stuck to my face and neck. My breaths came in pants, and my lungs burned.
But.
He kept fucking me.
Fucking me hard and deep.
So deep, my eyes rolled from the extreme contrast between pain and pleasure, and the short time in which he’d take me back and forth.
I wanted to let go but hold on to it for as long as possible. But my body seemed to know.
We weren’t winning this one.
He was too possessed.
Too obsessed with me feeling this form of exquisite pleasure and aching pain.
My body had no choice but to surrender to his, and when it did, a scream tore out of my mouth as an orgasm seemed to rip through me. Even though my entire body trembled, and I’d be bruised on my thighs, he kept pounding into me, striking every sensitive nerve with his rock-hard cock. It only took seconds, but I started to orgasm again, this time longer and harder.
My chest and lungs were on fire. And I wasn’t even sure if my eyes could open. They felt glued shut.
