There’s a fire in his eyes and I worry that I might have started an inferno I can’t put out. “This has never been about sex,” he tells me in a low, dangerous voice.
“Everythingis about sex!” I shout. “Everything in the goddamn world. Money. Power. Cars. Guns. They’re all about sex, one way or another. Getting it. Having it. Wanting it. Dying for it. The only thing that’snotabout sex is sex!”
“What in the hell are you talking about?”
“Iknowwhy you won’t fuck me,” I hiss at him. “It’s because you think it would actuallymeansomething. And you’re acoward.”
Dami stares down into my face for a long moment, long enough to make me wish I hadn’t said what I just did. Then he spins mearound and pushes me over the back of the sofa in front of the fireplace.
In one steady pull, he removes the butt plug and throws it onto the seat of the sofa, pushing my head down far enough that I resist, worried he’s going to rub my nose in it. I hear the rasp of a zipper as he opens his pants. “Is that what it will take to shut you up?” he snarls. “My cock in your ass?”
I look back over my shoulder at him. “Like I said, Dami, I just don’t think you have the balls.”
He grabs my arms, locking one of his forearms under my elbows so they’re bent back, my chest rising up. I feel the nudge of his cock at my asshole, and in one stroke, he’s deep into me. Balls deep, the warmth of them nestling into my taint.
Well. I guess I’m not a virgin anymore.
CHAPTER 39
CALIGULA
Damiano’sfree arm wraps around my chest, holding me flush against him as I pant and adjust. He’s…he’s much bigger than the plug. But having that damn thing in me all night, plus the lube it took to get it in there, means him plunging in like that doesn’t hurt.
Oh, it doesn’t hurt at all.
But I feel so opened up, so completely filled with him that I can’t think.
He thrusts again, testing the angle, and then again, each movement punctuated by an erotic grunt of effort. I arch against him. “This what you wanted, golden boy? This what you needed?”
I can’t answer for a second. My mind is shorting out from the sheer, unadulterated pleasure of being so completely possessed.
By a Giuliano.
BythisGiuliano.
So it takes a second to find my words again.
“Good work, Dami,” I grit out at last. “You sure showed me.”
He gives an unwilling huff of laughter and slides his hand up my chest to my throat, wrapping around it. But it’s not threatening, not like it usually is. This time it feels…
Caring. Like he’s checking my pulse or something, which, honestly, good instinct, because it’s going so fast I’m a little worried. He shifts slightly, changing the angle of his thrusts, and then?—
Oh, God.
That place inside me, the one I’ve only ever felt with the aid of his fingers, lights up like fireworks. My entire body spasms, a broken cry tearing from my throat.
And without another pause, he starts to nail it. Again and again. Each thrust is a deliberate, slow strike against that bundle of nerves, pulling sounds from me that I didn’t know I could make.
“I know exactly what you need,” he murmurs, each word punctuated by another slam against my prostate.
He’s right, that’s the hell of it. My cock is so hard it feels like stone, trapped between my belly and the velvet of the sofa, and the friction isn’t anywhere near enough. I need more. He shifts again, pulling out until his thick head is teasing my stretched-out rim, then slams back in so hard that the force of it punches a gasp out of me.
He lets go of my throat and my arms and wraps me up in a tight embrace, hoisting me higher so I’m up on my toes, impaled on his cock. I’m completely at his mercy, my legs shaking, my whole body focused on the feeling of him filling me, stretching me…
Owningme.
I feel a sharp bite on my shoulder, and then he’s nipping at the side of my neck, licking the sweat from my skin as he pounds into me again. I feel like a rag doll. He’s right; Ilikebeing a fucktoy for this beast of a man, and that should be humiliating, degrading. Clemenzas don’t like this kind of thing.
