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“I thought I was going to have to wait,” he admits with anger in his voice. “Thought this was going to take more time to play out and I was going to die in the process, or you’d be gone to college.”
“I’d wait for you. Always.”
That anger quickly turns to a smile. “Remember how I said we were going to play special games together?”
I nod, knowing in this particular case that talking isn’t the wisest move, which he quickly confirms.
“We’re going to play a game called ‘Quiet, Please’. Nod if you understand.”
I comply as he slowly slides off of his underwear, his huge erection springing free and my immediate thought is where in the world is he going to put all of that?
“The way ‘Quiet, Please’ works is baby girl stays quiet while Daddy pleases her. She can’t make a sound or the pleasing stops because other people might hear. Understand?”
I nod yet again as he reaches the edge of my bed.
“I use to sleep in this very room…alone, years ago when I lived in this house on that exchange program. Not anymore. Not tonight.”
He wastes no time, his big body coming down on mine as the mattress springs strain to contain him as our mouths sink together with a groan, his large hands cupping my face before he glides the calloused tip of his palm along my cheek.
He kisses me softly as if I’m made of paper mache, savoring the taste of my mouth as I do the same. But I want more, so much more and I wrap my hands around his back like I’m lost at sea, clinging to a life preserver, pulling my mouth into his more desperately, with more hunger, letting him know that despite my small size I’m not some doll he has to worry about breaking. If anything I want him to break me… break me in in all ways.
My hands move across and up to his back, sliding along his thick neck and nesting in his hair, my fingertips digging into his scalp as his lips claim mine.
There’s no turning back now, our kiss accelerating to the point I feel like I’m falling.
“Do you like the game Daddy chose, piccolina?” he says softly into my ear, the deep treble of his voice still sounding like leather dipped in honey at this lower volume.
I nod my approval.
“Are you ready to feel Daddy’s big dick? Are you ready for Daddy to claim what’s his? Are you primed and hot, ready for Daddy to see that cherry pop right here, right now, leaving your sheet stained with red the color of a rose petal?”
Oh. My. God.
I exhale into his neck as he nibbles at my ear, and I know how dangerously close we truly are.
His hands press down on the bed, bringing his body up above mine and allowing me to take in the sight of his muscles. He has no ink, which makes sense since the Italian mafia avoids things like that at all costs. No identifiers.
And I can’t identify this knot in my stomach, this heat, this need. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before, even more than in the kitchen or at the strip club.
This is beyond primal, and I reach beyond his torso, grabbing his cock in one hand and fisting it, or at least trying to as my hand comes nowhere near wrapping around its thick girth.
“Principessa is ready for Daddy, ready to become his queen.”
I want to agree. I want to speak, but I don’t want to ruin the game. And much more importantly we’re so close that I don’t want to make a noise that wakes my dad and this all comes crashing down…potentially forever.
“Game over, Bellissima. You won. You get Daddy’s cock for eternity,” he says, swelling my chest with pride as my nub swells as he scissors his thick shaft through my folds.
My heart is racing like a horse at the track, which is an adequate metaphor considering the Italian Stallion mounted above me.
“You deserve the Four Seasons for your first time, and we’ll do that one day. But first, Daddy needs to take you now, to feel whole with our little game. I can’t wait anymore, little one. I. Can’t. Fucking. Wait.”
And just like that, I feel the crown of his cock press at my opening as he grunts, shoving his thick inches inside my dripping sex, his manhood stretching my tiny virgin walls as I suck in a gasp of air at the sharp jab of pain.
“Oh fuck,” he groans, his voice getting dangerously loud. “Don’t worry,” he says, catching his tone and lowering it. “It will feel better in just a second. Just breathe.”
I do as I’m told.
“That’s it. That’s my good girl. Now, quietly…tell Daddy how it feels.”
