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“Color?” He asks again, to remind me I’m safe.
“Green.” My answer is the same as before. To my surprise, I find that I want this to hurt. Pleasure and pain are a powerful mix that has already gone to my head, making me pliable in his hands. He hits me again, in exactly the same place. I groan, louder this time.
“I love to hear you, baby girl,” he teases me. Ah. Fuck. This feels different than the last time, so erotic, so necessary.
He caresses my hips with his long-fingered hands, and I'm helpless, tied up and pressed into the mattress, at his mercy.
He spanks me again, slightly to the side, and again, to the other side. Fuck me already.
He gently trails two fingers between my hips, slightly brushing past my pussy, before continuing spanking each stinging smack, taking the edge off my need. Or fueling it, I don't know anymore. I surrender myself to the rhythm of his blows, absorbing each one, savoring each one. My moans get hiccupy and louder.
"That’s more like it, ragazzina," he murmurs his voice low and harsh.
He caresses my hipline again and trails his fingers deeper toward my wet pussy, and slowly sinks them inside me, moving them in a circle, around and around and around, torturing me.
Ah, please. Don’t stop. My body takes over, and I come and come, convulsing around his fingers. It's so intense, unexpected, and quick. I go limp under his touch, exhausted from the powerful orgasms.
"So good for me, baby girl," he murmurs appreciatively. He unties my wrists with one hand, keeping his fingers inside me with the other as I lie panting and spent over him.
"I'm not finished with you yet," he says and shifts without removing his fingers. He eases my knees onto the floor so that now I'm leaning over the bed. He kneels on the floor behind me and undoes his zipper. He slides his fingers out of me.
"Open up for me," he growls, and I comply, spreading my legs wider. He strokes my hip and pushes his cock in me. Thick and full. Finally.
“This is going to be rough," he murmurs and grabbing my butt, he eases out then strikes into me with full force.
“Tommaso!” I cry out, but the fullness is heavenly.
“Color?” he reminds me that I want this. And I do, I really do.
“Green!” It’s exasperating how much I need him right now. His cock is hitting the bellyache square on, again and again, eradicating it with each sharp thrust. The feeling is mind-blowing, which is exactly what I need. I push back to meet him, thrust for thrust.
"Ah, no, Ella!" he grunts, trying to hold me in place. But I want him too much, and I grind against him.
"Ella, shit," he hisses as he comes, and the tortured sound sets me off again, spiraling into an orgasm that wrings me out and leaves me breathless.
Placing his arms around me, he rests his head in the middle of my back, and we lie like this, both kneeling at the bedside, for what? Seconds? Minutes even, as our breathing calms. All I feel is a soothing, satisfying serenity, despite having gone against my inner voice. It was just sex. Good sex.
It’s not like I am selling my soul to the devil. Right?
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But that’s not all…
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Chapter Seventeen
TOMMASO
