“This is a nice fabric.” He touches the corner of my panties, sliding the tip of his thumb back and forth. “Very soft. High quality. I wonder how it will feel to you when I pinch your nipples through it.”
“Damiano,” I breathe.
He slides his hands up my stomach until he’s cupping my tits. He doesn’t pinch me, though. He moves his thumbs back and forth over my nipples, hardening them beneath the fabric.
Then he pinches me.
I gasp.
“Does it feel good?” he asks.
I lean into his touch, even when he pinches harder. “So good, Sir.”
“That’s my little bella, my sweet girl.” He lets go of my nipples and rubs his whiskered cheeks over my stomach before leaning back again. “Let’s see the next ones.”
I want to argue—I’m ready to abandon the game and ride Damiano until I come. Instead, I strip out of the iridescent fabric. Naked, I walk to the next hanger on the wall. This bra and panty set is a soft pink, the fabric see-through. Sweet and slutty at the same time.
I put it on while facing away from him, although I catch sight of his profile in one of the mirrors. The hungry expression on his face makes me even wetter.
Before I can turn around, he’s off the low bench. Three strides, and he’s behind me, reaching around to pinch my nipples through the gauzy fabric.
I lean back against his strong chest, a moan in my throat.
“Yes, bella,” he rumbles. “You like this little bite of pain, don’t you?”
“Yes, Sir.” I want more. I want his hands everywhere. I want his cock filling me, making me scream.
He lets go of one of my nipples to slide his palm down my front. Instead of delving into the gauzy panties, he plays with me from the outside. The fabric is soaked in seconds.
Without warning, he grasps the crotch of the panties and rips it away.
“Damiano!”
“You will call me Sir in this scene, little bella.”
I stare at the ruined fabric, scandalized but titillated. “Yes, Sir.”
“Now I will fuck this sweet pussy to remind you that you’re mine.” His hands move behind me and I hear the clink of his belt, the hum of his zipper.
“I’m yours, Sir.” I don’t need a reminder—I’ve always been his. But the desperate way he’s grabbing me, turning me around and bending me over, makes me wonder if he needs the reminder. What happened to make him so frantic?
I don’t entirely mind, because I like this feral side of him. But at the same time, I’m worried because I don’t want him to be distressed.
“Grab your ankles, bella.”
“Yes, Sir.”
The waistband of the pink panties is still around my hips, threads fluttering against my skin as Damiano presses the head of his cock inside me.
All my blood is rushing to my head, gravity doing its job as I’m bent in half, a vehicle for Damiano’s lust. He thrusts in and out slowly at first. Every time he fills me, it feels as if he’s going farther and farther inside.
“You’re mine, Madison.” He lightly spanks my ass while he fucks me. “Mine, and Seth’s. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir.” I can barely think—lust is clouding my thoughts. But I do know I’m theirs. And if he keeps fucking me just like this, I’ll reach the pinnacle of being theirs, the all-time high.
“Good.” His voice is rough. “Now come for me. I want to feel this tight cunt squeezing my cock.”
Two more strokes and I’m flying over the edge—I come hard, gasping for air.
