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She gasps as her pussy, fuck, gets so muchwetter. I can’t think. It’s her body. Too damn hot, steaming up my mind. It’s how she clings onto my hand and her moans, sharp and hungry like she’s been waiting for this, for me, forus.
Toward the end, I sit up and rub her pussy with my hand, meaning I can look down at her as she twitches and moans, as she stares up at me with those perfect soulful eyes.
“See?” I say with a smirk, shuddering as I step backward. “That’s all I wanted.”
She sits up, head tilted, her eyes looking slightly dazed like the orgasm has made her drunk. “What doyouwant, really?” she whispers.
I shudder. It’s like there’s an animal inside of me I’m trying to keep trapped because I know how wild it would be if I ever let it run loose. How much I’d own her sweet, round ass. How my dick would fill her tight, soaked slit as Iownedher.
“Dante?” she says.
“I… need… you…”
She bites her lip. “What can I do?”
“Give me your hand.”
She thinks for a moment, then nods, still biting her lip. I move to the end of the bed. She sits up, then takes my dick in her hand. The second her warm palm wraps around my shaft, it’s like I black out, but no, I won’t let that happen. It was stress before. This is like a shot of rocket fuel. Precome is all over her hand as she strokes up and down.
She moans, making eye contact with me. “Yeah?” she says, moving her hand quicker.
“Ah, fuck…”
“Yeah, Dante?”
“You’re mine,” I growl as she moves her hand faster, the head beginning to burn, to swell with my release.
“I’m yours,” she says. “I’m…ooh.”
She makes a gasping noise as I finally let my release go, a shower of come landing on the blankets, a little on her leg, dripping down over her creamy thickness. She keeps pumping until there’s nothing left in me, then sits back, her eyebrows raised.
“I made a weird noise, didn’t I?”
“You were perfect,” I tell her.
“Ooh,”she says, mocking herself.
I pull up my pants, then kneel so we’re at eye level. “You just being you, Mia. That’s enough.”
“Really?” she says, as if it’s a surprise.
“Really,” I say fiercely, hating that she doesn’t know that. “You’re perfect as you are, princess.”
“Princess?” she murmurs.
“I know you think that word defines you in a bad way, but it doesn’t because now you’remyprincess.”
She smiles, leaning forward, moving to kiss my lips, then remembers how out of control we can get and kisses my cheek. “I don’t know what that means outside this tower, Prince Charming.” She laughs. “I’m so lame, aren’t I?”
“I’ll take you, lame or not,” I tell her.
“But after tomorrow? Do mafia enforcers ever marry the princesses? If we have to usetheirterms.”
“Marry,” I repeat.
She pulls away. “No… I didn’t mean… notmarry.” She laughs awkwardly, and somehow, unfairly, a hurt note shudders in me. Why is she laughing at theideaof marriage? “I was just talking. You know.”
“Yeah.” I swallow, nodding, pretending I understand, but I don’t know. I have no damn clue how my princess has changed me so fast on some deep level, but no, I have tothink. Think like a person, like somebody with a brain in their head. I can’t let feelings dictate me.
