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21
Gio
Emilia went rigid beneath me, short nails digging into my chest as though she was trying to cling to me. I couldn’t think, couldn’t move, because my dick was in a vise grip of tight, warm pussy. I’d never taken anyone’s virginity before, and it was a special brand of torture because all I wanted to do was move. But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t hurt her any more than I already was.
“I’m sorry.” I kissed her. “You take me so well. Such a good girl. Just breathe, Emilia.”
“I just… need a minute,” she whispered.
Fuck. Her pain was like a punch to the gut. Sitting up, I glanced down as I pulled out of her perfect little pussy. My dick was streaked in red, and I groaned at the sight.
“Your blood looks so good on my cock, princess.” A feral kind of need gripped me at the sight of it.
That blood was mine. She was mine. No one else had ever been inside her, and they never fucking would. I wanted every bit of that sweet gift she’d just given me. I gripped my cock, stroking over it, smearing her that crimson streak and moisture over the length. Fuck. I stared at her pussy as I did, wanting to taste her again, to sample her ruined innocence.
My shoulders forced her thighs apart before I dragged my tongue over the length of her slit. The sweet taste of her mixed with the metallic tang had my dick throbbing, and I released it before I came all over the sheets like a sixteen-year-old boy.
“Fuck, Gio.” Her fingers went to my hair, pulling and tugging. She moaned as I thrust my tongue inside her, then circled her clit, over and over until she was writhing on the bed, incoherent words falling from her lips.
I’d fucked countless women, all of whom knew what they were doing, and yet, virginal little Emilia Donato was sending me over the edge. I felt feral, out of control. Rabid.
“I want you screaming my name.” I thrust my tongue inside her again, loving the way her greedy little pussy clenched and pulsed in response. “Come for me, Emila. All over my tongue.”
Within seconds she was screaming my name like I was her own personal god, and I couldn’t take anymore. I needed her more than air in my lungs right then. She was still trembling and panting when I gripped her thighs and wrenched her down the bed. When I thrust inside her, I let out a groan. Nothing had ever felt so right. A man like me shouldn’t have a weakness, but I didn’t even care. I wanted to be weak for her.
“So perfect. So mine.” I kissed her, and her tongue met mine, so eager, so open.
This time when I moved, her hips rolled against me, inviting me in. She felt like a taste of the heaven I knew I would never reach, and I wanted to embrace every earthly moment of it.
“Never fucking letting you go, Emila.”
She scratched her nails over my stubble as he lips lingered against mine. “I choose you, Gio. No matter what happens next.”
What happened next was I married her and buried my dick in her like this as many times as I possibly could.
I gripped her throat, my tattooed fingers so tainted against her flawless skin. “Mine.” I moved over her, and her breathy little gasps were the sweetest music to my ears.
She felt too good, though. Her tight pussy, the exposed emotion in her eyes, the taste of her blood on my tongue… I came hard, my entire body locking down as wave after wave of sheer ecstasy ripped through me. In a single moment, Emilia Donato raked her nails in deep—literally and figuratively—and I wanted her to engrave her name on my damn soul.
“Fuck, Emilia,” I groaned before collapsing on top of her. “Such a good girl.”
When I could breathe and walk, I went to the bathroom and got a washcloth. She looked like a goddess spread out on my bed, naked, eyes bright, hair wild. My come was smeared on her thighs, dripping from her abused pussy. Fuck. My dick twitched again, and I swear to God, I was going to spend the next week fucking her. When I moved to press the cloth between her legs, she blushed and tried to close them.
I smirked. “Really?”
“It’s…I can take care of myself.” How I hated those damn words.
“But you’re not going to.” I lifted a brow when she opened her mouth to argue. “I’m just waiting on that strike two, Emilia. I won’t fuck you again tonight, but don’t think I won’t spank you.”
She fell into silence, and I smiled.
“Now…” I threw the washcloth into the hamper before getting her some painkillers and water. “Take those and drink the water.”
The defiance was written all over her, but my guess was that she was sore and didn’t feel like a spanking tonight. So, she did as she was told.
