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I moan, once again left empty and hollow, wishing he could fill me everywhere at once as he slides his cock from my pussy up to the tight hole his thumb slips out of, wetting me with my own arousal. I feel his swollen head push, his hips thrusting as he starts to slip into my ass, but I’m too tight, and he’s too thick.
“Relax,” Lorenzo growls, his hand tugging at my hair. “I’m going to fuck this pretty ass one way or another, dolce. Relax, and it will be easier.”
The command eases something in me, the demanding way he says it letting me relax into his hands. His fingers slip between my thighs, starting to tease my clit, and the hand in my hair slides out of the loose, silky strands, moving to cup the front of my throat.
“Let me in, Mila, and I’ll finger your clit until you come. You can come as many times as you like, dolce, once my cock is in your ass.”
Even the slight stroke of his fingers has me on the edge. My clit feels more swollen and sensitive than it ever has, teased beyond anything I’ve ever felt, every inch of my pussy slick and dripping with arousal, Lorenzo takes his hand away just long enough to coat his cock with it, and I moan, the thought of him lubing himself with my own wetness making me shudder and buck against the echo of where his fingers were a moment before.
“My pretty little slut,” he croons, his fingers returning to my clit. “Be a good girl, Mila, and let me fuck your ass.”
I whimper helplessly as his fingers strum over my sensitive flesh, his hips pushing forward as his too-thick cock begins to breach my ass. No one has ever fucked me there before, never done more than slip a finger inside, and I cry out at the sensation. I hear Lorenzo groan through gritted teeth, and I let out a moan that’s a half scream as his thick cockhead slides into me, the burn sweeping through my body followed by a tremulous pleasure.
“I—” He breathes out, hard. “God, your ass is so fucking tight—I can’t—god, I’m going to fuck you so fucking hard?—”
His hips snap forward, as if to fulfill the promise, filling me hard and fast with his cock. I scream at the sudden intrusion, the pain only lessened by the feeling of his fingers rolling relentlessly over my clit. “I can’t take it—” I breathe, whimpering as he thrusts again, but I already am. I’m stuffed full of him, his cock thrusting in and out of my ass with the same punishing rhythm that he fucked my pussy a moment ago, and I know with a sudden devastating certainty that I’m going to come.
The pain and the pleasure are all wrapped up together, his fingers stroking my clit and his hand tight on my throat, and his cock fucking me hard. I watch him in the mirror, his gaze dark behind me as he grips my throat and takes me apart completely.
The orgasm nearly makes me crumple. I fall forward against the table, my hair loosened out of the bun and falling in long pieces around my face, gripping the edge of the vanity for dear life. I hear myself cry out Lorenzo’s name, a gasping wail of pleasure as he sinks into my ass again, his fingers still rolling my clit beneath the tips as if he intends to keep my climax going for as long as he can.
It feels as if it goes on forever. I hear his muffled groan, hear him panting behind me as he slams his cock into me once more, his hand on my throat tightening. “Fuck, Mila, I’m going to come?—”
His fingers roll over my clit, sending another wave of pleasure crashing through me, and I let out a sobbing moan as I feel his hips rock into me. “Going to fill your ass with my cum, fuck?—”
He’s never come inside of me before. I arch back against him as I feel the heat of it filling me, hot spurts of cum in my ass as I clench around him, pleasure still sparking over my every nerve. I feel wrecked, boneless, torn apart with pleasure, and I watch his face in the mirror as it contorts with the sensation of his own release.
Lorenzo stays like that for a long moment, breathing hard, his cock still buried in me, holding me between his two hands as he looks at me in the mirror. And then, slowly, I see his face change, and his expression starts to shutter.
He pulls out of me, tucking himself away, and I turn around quickly as my skirt falls down around my ankles. Somewhere on the floor are the torn scraps of my panties, and I’m soaked with my own arousal and his cum, but I can see him on the verge of running from me again, and that’s the last thing I want.
“Lorenzo—”
“I’m sorry.” His voice is taut with something too close to regret for my comfort. “I saw you talking to Egor, and I?—”
“You were jealous.” I reach for his arm, trying to keep him from pulling away. “I understand?—”
“It’s not just that.” Lorenzo’s gaze drags over me, taking in my flushed face, still sticky with his cum, my wrecked hair, my dress rumpled and askew. “Shit, Mila—” He looks at my vanity almost desperately, and all but pounces when he sees my pack of makeup wipes. “Hold still.”
He reaches for them, tugging one free, and I try to grab it from his hand. “I can?—”
“No.” The command in his voice is enough to make me go still, eyes locked on his, and he takes my chin between the fingers of one hand as he reaches up to start gently wiping away the streaks on my face. “Let me.”
The gentleness of it, the caring in contrast to the roughness of the sex, makes my knees weak all over again. I look up at him as he cleans my face with soft movements, his gaze intent. “I know Egor,” Lorenzo says quietly as he tosses one makeup wipe in the trash and reaches for another. “I was jealous, yes. But there’s more to it. He’s caused problems for my family and our businesses before. I was worried that he might know you’re working for me.”
He finishes wiping the last bit of cum from my cheek, tossing the other wipe away. His palm presses against my clean, damp skin, holding my face there as he looks down into my eyes. “I meant it when I said I wanted to keep you safe, Mila,” he murmurs. “This has gone too far. But I can’t bring myself to care any longer.”
His thumb brushes over my lower lip. “You still didn’t say it,” he whispers.
“And you let me come.” I look up at him, afraid of the words. Afraid of what it would mean to belong to him, this man who is hot and cold by turns, who can be both the most impassive and most wildly intense person I’ve ever known. I have a feeling that no one else has ever seen him the way I have tonight.
“I’ve never fucked anyone like that,” Lorenzo murmurs, as if hearing my thoughts. “I’ve never—” he clears his throat, looking almost embarrassed in the aftermath of it. “I’ve never done—that last?—”
“You’ve never fucked anyone in the ass before?” I blink up at him, and nearly burst out laughing when I see his cheeks redden ever so slightly. This cold mafia underboss, a man who no doubt has terrified any number of people who have crossed his path, who has likely always had a woman in his bed when he wants it, is blushing.
It’s endearing. I lean up, brushing my lips over his. He nods, slowly.
“Never. I’ve thought about it. I fantasized about it—with you. That day in the mansion, the first time I met you. In my office. Every time I’ve seen you, I’ve thought about taking you and making every part of your body mine. But I was afraid you’d run away from me if I did. And I didn’t want it to be?—”
