Iwake up with Sophie’s hair tangled across my chest, her breath warm on my skin, and all I can think about is making her come again.
Not just come. I want her to come on my cock this time.
Last night, watching her shatter in my arms, feeling her pussy pulse around my fingers while she touched herself, hearing those breathless little gasps she made when the orgasm finally broke through—FUCK. I took fucking ownership of that shit. Pride, yeah, but not just in making her come, but in making her happy.
Making Sophia Bellamorte happy is the opposite of what I’ve been doing: degrading her, humiliating her, breeding her.
And now I want to do it again. I want to be the reason she screams my name. I want to feel her come apart on my cock while I’m buried so deep inside her she’ll never forget who owns that pussy.
I trail my fingers down her spine, watching goosebumps rise in their wake. She stirs, rolling toward me with a sleepy smile.
“Vincenzo,” she murmurs, her voice thick with sleep.
I don’t answer. Just roll her onto her back and settle between her thighs, pushing inside her in one slow, relentless thrust.
Her eyes fly open. “Oh—”
“Shhh.” I pull out and thrust back in, angling my hips, searching. “I’m going to make you come on my cock,regina. And you’re going to let me.”
She bites her lip, gripping my shoulders. “Vin, I told you, I’ve never—”
“I know.” I shift her legs higher, changing the angle until I see her breath catch. There. “But you’re going to.”
I try missionary first, her legs wrapped around my waist while I grind into her, but she’s too tense, too in her head. I flip her onto her side, spooning her from behind, one hand on her hip to control the angle while the other wraps around her throat with a gentle pressure that reminds her who’s in control.
Better. Her breathing changes, deepens.
“That’s it,” I murmur against her ear, keeping my thrusts steady, medium pressure, hitting the same spot over and over. “Feel that? Feel how your pussy molds to my cock? Like you were made for me.”
She whimpers, and I feel her starting to melt against me.
“Perfect amount of burn, isn’t it, baby? Just enough that it feels so good.” I slow down even more, making each thrust count, dragging my cock against that spot inside her that makes her gasp. “Just relax. Let me take care of you.”
“Vin…” Her voice is shaky, uncertain. “I don’t think I can. Not like this.”
“Shhhh.” I tighten my grip on her hip, keeping the tempo relentless and consistent.
She’s trembling now, her pussy starting to flutter around my cock. I need more leverage, need to see her face.
I roll her onto her back again, this time pulling her legs up over my shoulders so I can drive deeper. The angle puts pressure on her clit with every thrust, and I watch her eyes go wide.
“What do you think about?” I ask, my voice rough. “When you touch yourself alone in this bed. How do you get off?”
Her cheeks flush pink. “I—I don’t—”
“Tell me.” I slow my thrusts to a crawl, making her whimper with frustration. “Or I stop.”
“This,” she gasps out. “I think about this. Strong arms around me. Strong hands. A big cock pushing into me. The way you look at me.”
Something hot and possessive surges through my chest.
“Arms like these?” I wrap my arms around her, crushing her against my chest while I keep fucking into her with those steady, measured thrusts.
“Yes,” she breathes.
“Hands that touch you like this?” I release one arm to stroke her breasts, pinching her nipple until she arches into me.
“Yes.”
