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Another orgasm hits, and I can’t breathe. I don’t know where it’s coming from. It’s deep, beyond bone, resounding out in a way that shakes my whole body, and he pushes me on.
I beg, abuse, plead, throw out promises, and he doesn’t relent. As I roll over into that sensitive place, something else starts to happen inside, another wave so big it crushes down on me. It’s a needing throb that shakes me, rolls me, pulls me into tiny pieces, and hurls them everywhere as I come so hard, he bites my clit. I scream and I’m clenching his fingers with my pussy, like I’m an out-of-control vice, and there’s liquid everywhere. I can hear it as he keeps thrusting into me.
Then when I’m on the verge of blacking out, he stops. He kisses a path up my belly, to my breasts, my throat, and finally my mouth.
Tizio kisses me in deep and slow waves, and I’m lost in him, in this, in the aftermath. All I know is him and pleasure, and when he pushes into me, I contract again, a small orgasm that makes my toes and fingers grasp. I give out a sob that he kisses down into him.
I expected hard, fast, and dirty, but this is a slow, rolling, sublime coming together, almost tender in how he touches and takes me, pushing into me, rocking his cock deeper. Soon I’m hungry for more. I wrap around him, arms and legs, and he rolls so I’m on top. I lie on him, letting him thrust up into me as I bring my hips in to meet him.
When he comes, he groans my name loud, and his cock twitches in me, the cum hot inside me.
After, he pulls me into his arms and holds me, just holds me, and I snuggle into him. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
I rub my face on him. “The hottest, kinkiest sex in my life. Sir.”
“Brat.” He groans. “Karlee?—”
“Don’t . . . don’t ruin it.”
He doesn’t say a word, just strokes my back, and incredibly, I drift off to sleep.
My ass is sore when I wake alone the following morning. Not to mention muscles I didn’t know existed. I hobble from bed, shower, and dress for the day. I’m too young to be this sore. I’m going to need to join a gym.
I make a coffee and try not to think about last night.
A piece of paper sits on the counter. The writing’s strong and neat.Your bodyguard for the day will knock and take you to class. I’ve got last-minute things I can’t avoid.
I put it down.
Okay, I mean, I think this is all overkill, but that’s both my brother and Tizio.
Alan, the bodyguard, knocks a few minutes later, and I grab my bag and follow him to the car. If I get in gingerly, he doesn’t comment. We get out, and he follows me to my first class.
Overkill, and yet, I can’t shake the feeling something isn’t right.
For the first time, I honestly feel watched.
It’s creepy.
It’s not Alan or other students. Whoever it is, watches furtively. I don’t know who it is.
Not even for sex or crush purposes, I wish Tizio were here with me.
Damn.
Chapter Fifteen
TIZIO
“We could, you know, help your fucking memory,” says Nicolo.
The sometime associate of ours, Uri, chews on his unlit cigar, his fat fingers twitchy, and it’s a good thing I disarmed him when we walked into his office. We broke down the door, and walked in, same thing.
It’s not that I care about his well-being, but I’d rather not have to kill him before we get his payments for the month. The work he does in the information game to keep the interest rate nonexistent is something I’d rather keep than lose.
He’s trying not to look diminished without his shit gun that I know he keeps loaded and brandishes about a little too often for his health.
