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When he pressed a third finger against my ass, I tensed. He forced it inside and the burn blended with a sordid kind of pleasure that had me coming instantly. It hit me hard and fast like a rogue wave crashing against the shore. My legs shook so hard I could barely stand on the slick floor, but Gio held me up the same way he always did.
“You come for me so sweetly, piccola.” He bit the soft skin at the inside of my thigh. “You taste like fucking life.”
He rose and kissed me, forcing his tongue inside my mouth on a groan. All I could taste was blood and my own come on his lips, and he was right; that did taste like life.
His rock-hard dick pressed between my legs, and I flinched from the hard press of him over sensitized flesh.
“I’m going to make you come again and again until you beg me to stop. I’m going to fuck you and hurt you.” His teeth pinched my jaw before his lips brushed my ear. “By the time I’m done with you, piccola, you won’t feel anything but me for a week straight.”
Spinning me around, he slammed me up against the wall so hard that my cheek cracked off the tile. He fisted my hair, yanking my head back as he kicked apart my legs. Then he thrust inside me, all the way to the hilt. My lungs flailed for air, my body wanting to curl away from the intrusion, but I couldn’t. There was nowhere to go, nothing but him and his unrelenting hold, and it was perfection.
“Take it, Emilia. Every fucking inch.” Every inch was a lot. He filled me, overwhelmed me, stretched me beyond capacity. And he gave me no reprieve before he was slamming into me over and over.
Gio commanded my body, dominated it, played it like a puppet on his strings. I craved his violence, his brutal hold, the bite of pain when he hit too deep, the ache in my spine as he forced it to bow and made me take even more.
His fingers laced my throat, pulling my shoulder blades to his chest as he nipped up the side of my neck. “Is this what you want, Emilia? For me to use you and fuck you and hurt you?” He thrust even deeper, and I cried out.
“Yes!”
“Such a dirty little princess.”
His hand slid down my stomach, fingers pinching my sensitive clit and making me buck and moan.
“Are you going to come for me, Emilia?”
“Yes,” I moaned as he twisted my clit in a way that hurt, but combined with his dick pounding into me, I was too overwhelmed with sensations to differentiate the fine line between pleasure and pain.
He alternated between stroking and pinching. Soft then hard. Sweet then cruel. Winding me up and pulling me right back down.
And the entire time, he fucked me ruthlessly until I was screaming his name, begging him to let me come. I both loved and hated him in that moment.
“Come for me, Emilia,” he groaned. “All over my cock.”
His finger circled my clit, his cock sliding deep, and I fell apart, moaning and thrashing as over-sensitized nerves spasmed all at once.
He pulled out of me, and I felt his hand working over his hard dick before he groaned, sinking his teeth into the side of my neck as he came. It was primal, almost animalistic, as though he were marking me. I felt the warm liquid hit my back before he stepped away. The second his large body wasn’t blocking the showerhead, the water washed all traces of him from my skin.
“Next time, I’m going to bathe you in my fucking come and make you wear it.”
Why did that turn me on so much? Gripping my hips, he turned me to face him, then removed the hand-held showerhead from the wall. A wicked smirk played over his lips as he switched it on and adjusted the temperature.
His hand wound around my throat again. “Spread your legs, Emilia.”
I did, and he moved closer. I flinched from the icy water on my thigh before he aimed it right between my legs. It was shockingly cold on my abused clit, and I lurched and thrashed in his hold. His grip tightened, one thick thigh pushing between my legs to stop them from closing.
“Gio, please,” I gasped.
“You wanted punishment, did you not?”
“No, I—”
“Take it, Emilia. And remember this the next time you want to try to turn this pretty skin pink. It’s mine. All of you is mine.” He pressed a kiss to my lips. “Your pleasure, your pain, your punishments.”
He shifted the showerhead, and though it was cold, the water was pummeling against my clit in just the right way. I didn’t think I could come again, didn’t want to, and yet my body jerked and shuddered painfully as it made a pitiful attempt. I cried out, muscles tensing in a way that felt more like torture than pleasure. Only then did he cut off the shower.
