I let my knees fall wider apart. I am at his mercy. The underboss of the Costa family, a man who terrifies an entire city, is kneeling between my legs like I am the only thing that matters.
He lowers his face. His hot breath fans across my aching wetness.
His tongue strokes directly over my clit in one long, agonizing swipe.
My hips buck violently off the mattress. A scream tears from my lips. My hands fly down to grip the heavy muscles of his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin.
He doesn't stop. He dives in.
His tongue is relentless. He laps at my slick, gathering the excessive wetness and using it to coat every sensitive nerve of my clit. He sucks the swollen nub into his mouth, applying a firm, pulling pressure that sends stars bursting behind my eyelids. Two of his thick fingers slide directly into my soaking pussy.
He drives his fingers to the hilt, stretching my tight passage until I am sobbing with the sheer, overwhelming size of him.
"You taste like mine," he murmurs against my slickness, his voice a vibrating hum that sends shockwaves through my pelvis.
He increases the speed. His fingers thrust deeper, hitting a slick peak inside me that makes my entire body lock up. His tongue flicks over my clit in rapid, merciless strokes. The friction is a blazing fire. The orgasm builds with terrifying speed, a tidal wave rising up to drown me.
"Matteo, I'm close, I'm?—"
"Give it to me," he demands. He bites down gently on the sensitive flesh right above my clit. "Shatter for me, Clara."
I break.
The climax rips through me with the force of a hurricane. I scream his name, my hips thrashing wildly against his face. My inner walls clench violently around his fingers, squeezing the thick digits in a desperate rhythm. My body shakes uncontrollably, liquid heat pouring out of me as I ride the agonizingly intense crest of the orgasm.
He takes every drop. He swallows my moans, his tongue continuing to lap at my sensitive flesh until the very last aftershock fades away.
I am limp. My chest heaves. Sweat slicks my forehead.
He pulls his fingers out with a wet, obscene sound that echoes in the quiet room. He crawls up my body, his massive frame covering mine. He settles his weight over me, bracing himself on his forearms so he doesn't crush me.
He kisses me. His mouth tastes like my arousal. The intimacy of it is staggering. He slips his tongue past my lips, claiming my mouth with the same possessive dominance he just used on my body.
I kiss him back wildly. I want him closer. I need him inside me.
I reach down, my hands scrambling blindly between our bodies. I hit the thick leather of his belt. I yank at the buckle, my fingers clumsy with desperation.
"Impatient," he growls, pulling back. A dark, arrogant smirk plays on his lips.
"You started this," I shoot back, my sassy teacher voice wrecked by lust. "Finish it. Unless the big bad mafia boss doesn't know how to undo his own pants."
His eyes darken to pitch black. The smirk vanishes.
He sits back on his heels. His hands go to his belt. He rips the leather buckle open. He pops the button of his jeans and shoves them down his powerful thighs, taking his dark boxer briefs with them. He kicks his boots off without looking, kicking his clothes off the edge of the bed.
He is naked.
My mouth goes dry.
He is magnificent. His body is a map of violence and pure power. Thick, coarse dark hair covers his broad chest and trails down the center of his flat stomach in a V, disappearing perfectly into the dark hair surrounding his thick, heavy cock.
It is brutally large. Iron-hard and weeping with a bead of precum that catches the low light of the bedroom. I shouldn't be staring, but I can't look away. My biological response is complete. I am soaked, my body screaming for him to fill the void.
"Clara," he growls, his voice a lethal vibration in the room as he settles between my spread legs. "Look at me."
I look up. His eyes are pitch black. Possessive. Predator.
"You are mine."
