“I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk for days.” I parted her wider to accommodate me and thrust into her wet, slick, pussy. It didn’t resist me like that time. It stretched to take my length and swallowed me whole. I’d been picturing her like this for a long time. Hot and wet and open for me. Taking my cock like a good bitch.
With tight groans, I pounded her until her legs were shaking, and the entire yacht heard her screams. When she cried out his name, I choked her, and her pussy clenched so fucking hard around my cock sucking at me, pulling my release so hard I almost came inside her, with her.
But I gripped her hips tightly, waiting her orgasm out, and just when she was done, I pulled my cock out of her pussy, brought her to her knee, tilted her head back and shoved my cock into her mouth, shooting thick cum down her throat.
Chapter 32
Bianca
Ding! Ding! Shame!
Therapy!
Pffft. You’re just going straight to hell.
I didn’t care. Three days of marvelous dicking—even in a sweet illusion—was worth it. I’d decided to put everything aside or on hold and enjoy my four-day breather because that was how I truly felt; I could finally breathe.
We’d barely left the yacht—the cabin. This deviant sex god had the stamina of a horse, and he knew Cosimo’s…everything by heart. I didn’t have to give him any tips or guide him through anything. As if Cosimo had possessed him, he spoke, kissed, touched and fucked my brains like him. Every part of me was sore, bruised or marked, and my legs wobbled when I tried to walk, but it was my heaven.
As he went for a quick dip in the sea, I tried to breastfeed Mario. It’d been a challenge for the past week, but it’d been better since we got here. The second he suckled, I hissed. My nipples were sore with all the pinching and biting, and Mario’s gums were sharp as fuck now. “Easy, little shark.”
He held my breast with his little hands and suckled hungrily. “Oh okay.” I chuckled. “I know you missed it.”
I started a lullaby. An Italian song Cosimo used to sing for him. Mario jerked his tiny legs in response. “Oh, you like that. You remember.”
Footsteps echoed from outside, and then Enzio came in, rubbing a towel over his tanned shoulder, glistening with water droplets.
“Did you have a nice swim?” I asked.
“Si, si.” He stopped to a halt, staring at me.
“What?” Oh no. He was going to have one of his sicko episodes. I should never nurse my boy in front of him.We agreed on four days. You can’t go psycho on me now. We still have one more day, asshole.
“You’re smiling. That’s a first.”
Oh. I blinked, clearing my throat, and gazed back at my baby.I was smiling. That was…
“And now you’re frowning again. You shouldn’t be ashamed of a smile, Bianca. I know you think differently, but there’s nothing wrong with feeling something other than grief and hate and anger.” He leaned in and kissed my cheek. “You have a beautiful smile. Hiding it is the real shame.”
What. The. Fuck? Who was that peppy dude? That was not Cosimo, and definitely not the Enzio I’d known for the past few weeks.
That was…the old Enzio. Underboss Enzio.
Shouldn’t he be crankier? The first days—weeks—of not smoking after doing it for twenty years could be hell. “Did something happen? At work? Was whatever you came here to do successful?” I knew better than to ask for specific details.
He smirked. “Same old business. Nothing special. Why do you ask?”
“You’re…cheerful. And you haven’t been smoking for almost four days.” If it wasn’t work, that meant it was the sex. The only thing that changed.
He chuckled and waved a hand in my direction. “Is it better? They felt heavy this morning.”
I nodded, not sure why that made my cheek warm with shyness. “Back to normal.”
“Good to hear.” He landed a gentle kiss on Mario’s forehead. “Care for a walk? We can have lunch out later. You really should see the island.”
“Yeah,” I said warily. Was being nice part of the mindfuck?
“Grande. Gonna hit the shower. Get dressed when you’re done.”
