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He frees his hands in one go, and his arms come around my body, holding me close to his chest while he sits up, cupping my face.
I lay my cheek on his shoulder and sigh, it only took him a couple of seconds to break free. “You said I could do whatever I wanted to you.”
“You can, kitten, I…” he begins, and I feel his body move up and down while he takes a deep breath. “I wanted to hold you. Fuck, I don’t do shit like this,” he confesses, as his cheeks flush a little.
“I know,” I tell him, brushing his hair back while he leans against the pillows. “I’ll take it slow.”
“You better, I haven’t let anyone do what they want with me before,” he says, his voice low.
“Is it because of your…” I start, running my eyes over his scars.
He nods, trailing his fingers over the lines. “All the women I had couldn’t stand to look at me, or I didn’t let them. I don’t know why you are different. Maybe because you fucked up real bad.” He laughs and winks.
I slap his chest playfully. “It brought me to you, so it wasn’t all bad,” I mutter, and bite on my bottom lip. Why am I telling him this?
“I’m glad you fucked up, kitten. Spending time with you is better than I expected.”
“Hey,” I say in Korean, and he laughs again. “I like your laugh, by the way.”
His cheeks flush a little and he seems so much younger, not the scarred, dangerous mafia guy with an empire at his feet.
“It feels like I’ve known you for a long time,” I say, focusing on him, feeling self-conscious again.
He nods and licks his lips, his eyes trailing a path over my naked body. I press my palms flat on his shoulders, not caring how I look.
“You look beautiful,” he tells me softly, brushing my long, black hair behind my ear. “Take what you want from me.”
“I might be bad—” I begin, but he cuts me off.
“You can never be bad, baby. Do what you want, take it all,” he grunts.
“Okay,” I whisper, biting on my bottom lip.
“The way you are dripping on my stomach tells me you want to,” he groans, leaning back in the sheets.
I sit up a little, but grabbing me by the waist, he softly moves my body over his erection. “That’s how hard you make me. Fuck, I need to be inside you,” he says through gritted teeth.
The tip of his dick teases my clit, and I moan, not wanting the sensation to end. “Please,” I beg, and the man sits back and pushes his hands under the pillow and winks at me, giving me the reins.
With shaking fingers, I grab his cock, and he growls low under his breath, drawing a shudder from me. Positioning myself on top of him, I keep holding on to his dick while my other hand disappears in the sheets next to his head. My hair falls like a curtain around me, and he smiles and nods.
I scream out his name as he slams inside by ramming his hips upward, and I fall forward, but he steadies me by the waist. “Fuck, why are you bigger this way?” I cry out, my hands clutching at the sheets next to his head.
He waggles his brows as I jolt from the force while he pushes upward again. I can’t catch my breath with him holding me in place on his cock while I try to get comfortable. I clench around his length as wetness drips from my pussy onto him.
“Ride me, baby, I know you can,” he orders, while his eyes travel into the back of his head while I slowly start to move.
I link our fingers together, guiding them next to his head. His eyes fly open while I move up and down, gasping loudly. It’s so full—the way he stretches me, the way he owns a part of me now. I feel desired, like a badass taking what I want. Letting go of one hand, I reach up and wind my hand through his hair and yank his head back.
“I own you now,” I snarl, trying to mimic his voice.
“If you hit me, babe, that would definitely make me come,” he jokes.
His lips part on a breathless gasp and I feel his cock twitch—he likes this. His eyes widen when I slap him hard across the face. “Open your eyes when I’m fucking you,” I command. I don’t know where this comes from but my pussy flushes with wetness. Leaning up, he slips from my core, and the man is right back to sinking himself inside me with ease, the tip of his cock stretching my lips painfully.
“You have no idea how much I fantasized about this,” he groans, fighting for the upper hand. I don’t give it to him, or he pretends I win. I don’t care when I feel like I’m taking back everything my ex took from me—my first time, my apartment, my dreams, real love.
I keep fucking him in even strokes, holding his hands, moaning his name, while his cheek turns red from where I slapped him.
