I smirk as I move into position, my hand around my length, stroking as I shift closer to her.
I nudge my cock into her folds, moving the head, circling her clit. She moans again and opens her hips up even more, pushing herself up against me.
I chuckle and continue circling.
“Goddammit, Alessandro. Please,” she manages to get out.
Well, since she asks so nicely…
I line up the head of my cock and slowly push inside her. Bianca arches her back, taking me in another half inch or so.
I groan, moving my hands back to her hips and continue moving in with agonizing slowness, inch by inch, until I’m buried in her up to the hilt.
“Fuck. Bianca—I can’t get enough,” I moan then pepper the side of her neck with small kisses, until I stop and suck a bruise into the side as she writhes beneath me.
“Alessandro, move please,” she begs me, unable to stop herself from rutting against me.
I start to move, withdrawing slowly and entering her again and again. I look down at her, overcome with emotion.
“Bianca,” I breathe.
I move my hand up to cup her jaw, two of my fingers sliding inside her mouth.
Bianca instinctively sucks around them, licking to the rhythm I’m setting with my thrusts. “Such a good girl. Oh, fuck. You take mesowell.” Bianca’s eyes roll to the back of her head and I can feel her legs start to tremble.
Her whimpers increase as her orgasm hits her full force and she screams around my fingers, trembling violently.
I’m no better as I watch her clench and spasm around my cock. I move my hand down her throat after she stops quivering, traveling down her body until I reach her waist.
I lift her hips, repositioning her body on the desk to suit my pleasure and start thrusting into her with abandon.
“So good for me. So perfect,” I pant out between thrusts. I move faster and she opens her hips wider, clearly wanting to bring me even closer to her as I pound into her relentlessly.
My thrusts start to stutter before my orgasm hits me.
I bellow her name as I fall off the cliff, my body shaking as I thrust into her a few more times as I ride the wave of my orgasm.
Once it’s over, I sag against her before gently removing myself from her. We groan as I slide out of her and collapse onto my desk chair.
My ribs are killing me and it hurts to take a deep breath, but again I don’t care. That was some of the best sex of my life.
“Bianca?” I ask, smiling at the sight of her limp body sprawled on my desk.
“Hmm?” It seems words are impossible for her right now. I smirk.
“So,” I drawl, unable to resist the opportunity to tease her while she’s still boneless and satisfied. “I take it the voices are nice and quiet now? Or did Giuseppe have some advice about your orgasm technique?”
“Fuck off, Alessandro.”
24
BIANCA
The war room at the compound has never felt more appropriate to its name than it does right now.
Maps of New York cover every surface—the dining table, side tables, even pinned to the walls with red threads connecting various locations like a spider’s web of violence.
Surveillance photos are scattered across the mahogany surface, faces of Calabrese soldiers and associates staring up at us with the unseeing eyes of the soon-to-be-dead.
