As she cries out, I groan and drop my head to her shoulder. "Fuck. You're sopping wet." I say, grinding my hips against hers. "You love when I tie you up, huh? When I make you helpless. When I can just take my pleasure out on this tight little cunt."
She whimpers, and I kiss her, a brutal, possessive kiss that’s meant to claim. To brand.
"You want me to fuck you now, sweetheart?" I murmur against her lips. "You want my big cock stretching you open, filling you up, making you mine?"
She moans, her nails digging into my biceps. "Bite me," she sobs. "Please, Roberto. I hate when it heals, I want it always."
A feral grin spreads across my face.
I lower my head and hover my lips above her skin. She strains to arch up against me, but I don't relent.
"Where?" I ask, my breath hot against her ear. "Where do you want me to bite you?"
I'm not going to give her what she wants. Not right away.
I want her to beg for it. I want her to tell me exactly what she wants, to give me every last piece of her.
She doesn't hesitate. "Right here," she says, her breathless, pointing to her neck. "Where everyone can see."
The words send a thrill of possession through me. I want her marked. I want everyone to know she's mine.
She squeezes her tight little pussy around me, drawing a groan from me.
"You want everyone to see it, huh? To know I own you?" I ask her, my voice rough.
"Yes," she says, her body undulating against me, and I can feel the need in her, the desperate, aching need to be claimed. "Yes, I want everyone to know."
"But about work? What will everyone think? The staff, guests?" I ask her, my lipstrailing down her neck.
"I don't care," she says, her nails digging into my back. "Let them think what they want."
I love that. The fact that she doesn't care what other people think.
That she's mine.
But I do. When she wakes up in the morning, I don't want her to regret her actions.
I lower my head and brush my lips against her shoulder. "I'll give you what you want, sweetheart," I murmur. "But I'll give it to you where only I can see it."
"Roberto," she whines.
"Don't you worry. I'm going to bite you so hard, you'll feel it for weeks," I whisper my breath hot against her ear. "You'll go to work tomorrow and every time you move, you'll think of me and know you're mine.
A violent shiver runs through her.
I pull back until I'm almost all the way out of her, then I slam back into her, hard.
She cries out, her back arching off the bed, her hands fisting in the sheets.
I do it again, and again, setting a punishing rhythm, my hips pistoning into her, my body a hard, driving force.
I'm not holding back. I'm not being gentle.
I'm taking her. Using her.
And she's loving it.
Her hips rise to meet mine, her body moving in a primal rhythm as old as time.
