“I said open.” He fists my hair and pulls my head back, the sharp tug sending sparks down my spine to my pussy.
I obey. My answer to him is always ‘yes.’
He guides himself to my lips, the head of his cock pressing against my mouth. “Take it.”
I part my lips wider, taking him in. I love how he tastes. He slides deeper, inch by inch, watching me with those intense eyes that see everything as he trains my throat to take all of him.
“That’s it, princess. Show me what that pretty mouth can do.”
I hollow my cheeks, sucking him deeper, using my tongue the way I know he likes. His grip in my hair tightens, holding me in place as he starts to move, thrusting slowly into my mouth.
“Fuck. Your mouth—” He groans, head falling back, the tendons in his neck standing out. “So good. So fucking good.”
Pride blooms across my whole body.I’mdoing this to him.I’mmaking him lose control. Me.
He pulls out abruptly, his cock glistening as I heave in breaths. “Bedroom. Now.”
I scramble to obey, my legs shaky, but he’s right behind me, his hand on my lower back guiding me. But we don’t make it thetwo steps to the bedroom. He pins me against the wall outside the bedroom door, his body a wall of heat and muscle.
“Can’t wait.” He lifts me effortlessly, my legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. “I need to be inside you right fucking now.”
He slams into me in one brutal thrust and I scream, pleasure and pain twisting together in my sore pussy until I can’t tell where one ends and the other begins.
“Vin! Oh my! Vincenzo!”
He pounds into me, the wall shuddering with each thrust, a framed photo crashing to the floor. Neither of us cares.
“Say my name again.” He sinks his teeth into my shoulder.
“Vincenzo!” I’m practically sobbing now, my nails raking down his back.
“Again.”
“Vincenzo, please!”
“Please what?” He slows his thrusts, rolling his hips in a way that makes me see stars. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want—” I can barely think, let alone get the words out. “I want—I want more—”
“More?” His laugh is dark and clipped. “Do you want me to hurt you, princess?”
The question should scare me. It doesn’t. He runs his palm down the side of my face, my hair sticking to my sweaty skin and kisses me hard.
When he stops, honesty spills out. “I don’t know, but I want to find out.”
Something primal and possessive crosses his face. “Fuck, princess. You’re just—”
He carries me to the bedroom, what’s left of it with the mattress still on the floor, and throws me down. I bounce once, breathless, watching as he strips off his shirt. The light from thekitchen casts shadows across his chest, highlighting every ridge of muscle.
I want him so badly. I want him to be mine.
No! Not mine. I can’t think like that.
“Turn over.” His voice cuts through my thoughts. “On your hands and knees.”
I flip over, heart racing, anticipation coiling tight in my abdomen.
He pulls his belt out of his jeans with a zipping sound, folds it in half, and connects it with my backside in a sharp slap that echoes in the small room. I yelp, more from surprise than pain, but then he does it again on the other cheek.
