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I don’t feel anything but a geyser erupting endless amounts of semen far into her.
I haven’t cum in anything but a condom in as long as I can remember. This is a whole other level of pleasure.
Fuck.
My temples pulse as all my life momentarily leaves me. When she exhales and falls over my neck, everything feels right in the world. I’m glad I left AC.
A dual-orgasm isn’t something I’ve experienced often. It’s usually, her, then much later, me. But Gia has a hold on me.
“You know, I try to do something nice for you, and you turn me into an animal,” I growl.
She laughs into the crook of my neck. I gently put her down now that the heat is flushed out of me. Usually, I’d button up and get the fuck outta’ Dodge. But here? I don’t want to.
“Let me go clean up and I’ll give you the grand tour,” she says, planting a tiny kiss on my cheek.
We both look down at her thigh dripping with my cum. When she takes two fingers and smears a glob of it into her mouth, I know there’s a freak somewhere deep down in there.
“Mm, that’s good. Come give us a kiss.” She puckers at me, then laughs when I turn abruptly away.
“God, you’re fucking sicker than I am. Go rinse that filthy mouth.”
Chapter 10
Gia
I’m rustling through my clothes to find a new pair of panties and shorts, since Castor ripped both of them to shreds. One look in the mirror tells me I’m not over what just happened. My face is blotchy, hair about to fall out of the loose ponytail, and I’m still out of breath.
He’s everything I dreamed of, honestly. When I used to play with myself, I imagined him taking me just the way he wanted, teaching me things, pushing the boundaries. God, I couldn’t have imagined it being this good.
And I really do like the way his cum tastes… because it’s his.
My heart stalls when I hear him pacing around toward the living room.
Oh no, my paintings!
I don’t let anyone see those. That’s my embarrassing little world only my stupid brother knows about.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I hop into a fresh set of underwear and throw on a pair of black basketball shorts that I roll three times, then rush out of my room. As I move fast down the hall, the sound of his pacing stops. One peek into the living room reveals my worst fear – him with his arms folded, staring exactly where I don’t want him to.
My art station.
He’s judging a landscape I spent about twelve hours on. Twin mountains and a valley in the heart of summer. If he says something stupid about it, it would crush my heart and suck all of the horny-ness out of me. It’s like my kryptonite.
I slow my walk, not daring to disrupt his analysis.
What would a mobster know about art?
I glance at his rings and realize he probably molded some of those himself.
“Gia, this is stunning.”
“Oh shut up. You’re just saying that.” I grab the stand and walk it to a corner, out of sight.
“I’m serious. Who would’ve thought a kid like you… could hide talent like that.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?” I put my hands on my hips.
