I nod, the silliness evaporating as my smile fades.
“I’m going to miss you too, amore mio,” he growls, softly lifting my thigh and pushing inside of me.
“Oh god,” I moan, arching my back as he fills me in one smooth thrust, burying himself to the hilt before he palms my throat and squeezes lightly.
“I don’t know how I’ll go four days without this, amore mio. I’m addicted to you and this perfect wet cunt. Tell me you’ll miss me.”
“I’ll miss you so much,” I pant as he slowly grinds his hips, working his cock in and out of me in a drugging rhythm that feels amazing.
“Tell me you’re mine.”
“I’m yours, all yours, every inch of me.”
“That’s right, you’re all mine. Mine to take care of, mine to pamper, mine to fuck. I want you naked in our bed waiting for me when I get home.”
I nod, feeling the head of his cock grazing over the spot inside of me that makes me see stars.
“Then once I’ve reclaimed all of you and my cum is dripping out of all of your holes, I’m going to give you my last name and a pretty band on your finger.”
“What?” I spit, my eyes snapping open.
“We’re getting married, amore mio,” he says, kissing me and silencing my protests as his thrusts start to build momentum, rocking into me until I can barely think, let alone speak.
Pulling back from the kiss, he smiles smugly down at me, and I know he’s doing this deliberately.
“We can’t,” I say weakly, “that’s crazy.”
My body feels empty when he pulls his dick out of me. “Hands and knees,” he orders, and I scramble to do as he says, too needy to stop. Turning onto my stomach, I position myself on my hands and knees, watching over my shoulder as he moves behind me and guides his cock to my entrance.
He feels huge like this, the head of his cock pushing even deeper as he holds my hips and fucks me in punishingly hard thrusts that would topple me forward if he weren’t holding on to me. “Jesus,” he growls. “Always so fucking wet and desperate for me,” he praises as the wet sound of my arousal fills the room.
“Oh, oh, oh,” I chant, letting my head fall between my shoulders, too consumed by the pleasure to do anything but feel. I tense when his fingers find the ring of muscle between my ass cheeks, dragging my cream upward and using it to soften the skin before he works one, then two fingers into my ass.
My body easily accepts the intrusion, and I push back against his fingers and cock, wanting to be fuller, needing to feel the overwhelming sensations that consume me when he touches me like this.
“Fuck, you like that, amore mio. You love my cock in your cunt while my fingers stretch out this tight little ass, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I whimper, rocking into each thrust, desperate for more, desperate for him.
“Tell me you’ll marry me,” he demands.
Shaking my head, I don’t speak. I can’t marry him. It’s too soon, too fast.
“Tell.” He slams into me. “Me.” Withdrawing, he forces himself back into me again. “You’ll.” Thrust. “Marry.” Thrust. “Me.”
I shake my head again.
Everything stops, but my mind can’t understand, and I sway backward, pushing back into nothingness because my body is empty. Confused, I open my eyes and look behind me. Warrick is stone-faced, his thick, hard cock erect and wet with my arousal.
“What are you doing?” I croak, my voice weak.
“Tell me you’ll marry me, amore mio,” he snarls, his eyes black and angry.
It’s the first time I’ve ever seen him like this, and I hate that I’m the cause of the pain and hurt in his eyes. I hate that I can’t give him what he needs after he’s given me literally everything. But I can’t. I can’t marry him, not yet.
“I can’t,” I whisper.
Even in the darkness of our room, I see the hurt my words cause, but I don’t know what to do. I can’t agree to marry him just so I don’t upset him.
