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She holds up her middle finger as she reaches the door, and I press down on the button again. And keep it pressed. She gasps, stiffens, then clutches the frame of the doorway.
"Oh, my god," she moans. "Oh, god." She squeezes her thighs together, presses her cheek against the wooden frame.
I turn a dial to increase the intensity. Instantly, she rises up on her tiptoes, throws up her hand, and grips the door. "Jesus," she huffs, "this…this thing is—"
"Turning you on?" I reach for her, grasp her shoulder and turn her around.
Her breath comes in short gasps, her chest rises and falls, sweat beads her upper lip, and she swallows. I turn the button further to the right and she groans, thrusts out her luscious breasts.
If I move the jacket—my jacket, that she’s wearing—out of the way, I am sure I’ll see her pebbled nipples. The blood rushes to my groin, and fuck, if my balls don’t throb.
I turn the button even more, as far as it will go, and she throws back her head. "Oh, bloody hell," she groans as she bites down on her lower lip. She throws out her hand, as if looking for support, and I grab it. I release my hold on the button and she slumps. I catch her around the waist, then throw her over my shoulder. She half protests and I slap her butt. Which must send vibrations through her aching backhole, for she moans again.
She wriggles around and I squeeze her butt. She chafes her thighs tighter, and fuck, the scent of her arousal seeps into the air. My vision tunnels. My blood begins to thud in my veins. I increase my pace until I am half jogging toward my bedroom.
I reach my bed and lower her to the mattress. She sprawls on her back, dark hair spread out about her shoulders, cheeks flushed, pupils dilated until there’s only a circle of green around her pupils. I rake my gaze down her chest, her narrow waist, her generous hips and thighs, those tiny feet clad in the sneakers she’d worn when she’d left my home in Palermo. I sink down to my knees, untie her shoes and pull them off, then her socks.
"What are you doing?" she mumbles.
"Making you more comfortable." I smirk as I rise up to my feet. I tear off my own shoes and socks, then plank my body over hers. "You’re fucking gorgeous, Beauty."
She swallows as she stares up into my face. I lean down, brush my lips over hers once, twice, thrice. A moan bleeds from her lips and she flutters her eyelids shut. I press kisses over each eyelid, then to her nose, to her chin. To the hollow at the base of her throat. I inhale that moonflower scent of hers, and my balls harden. An urgency grips me.
I lean back on my knees, grab her hands and haul her up. She blinks as I divest her of the jacket, then unbutton her shirt and pull it off. I glance down at her lace bra and the dark nipples that are visible through it. I lower my head and kiss her in the valley between her tits. She shudders, and the drumbeat of her heartbeat against her ribcage ratchets up. I pull back, then reach behind her to unhook her bra. It falls down her shoulders and I pull it down her arms and fling it aside. She stares at me, holds my gaze as she thrusts out her breasts proudly.
"Minchia,"I growl, "you’re a fucking goddess."
Her cheeks heat as she glances away, then back at me. I reach for the waistband of her jeans, unhook the button and pull down the fly. I step back onto the floor, pull her up to her feet. Then roll her jeans down her thighs, along with her panties as I drop to my knees. She steps out of them and I throw them aside. Then glance up to find her gaze on me. Her lips are parted, her elbows tucked into her sides as she watches me from under hooded eyelids.
I grip the tops of her thighs, pull her close as I reach in and bury my nose in her pussy. The scent of her, sweet and sexy and fucking erotic, fills my senses. I draw her essence into my lungs, until it feels like it’s invading every pore in my body. I thought I’d wanted to imprint myself on her, but the fact is, she’s already stamped her impression onto every part of me. I’ll never be the same, never be able to go back to being the emotionless, focused, tunnel-visioned man who’d only wanted one thing. Power.
With her, I feel vulnerable, yet alive… I felt like I can experience the highs of life…and the lows… She made me real, human… She makes mefeel. It won’t help me to do my job better. To become emotional is the beginning of the end for any made man. It has caused the downfall of too many of them to count… And yet… It feels right. Being with her feels right. It feels like the only thing worth living for. What is this life if I can’t open myself to her, allow her to see what she does to me, allow her to invade my secrets, to see my weaknesses. To strip myself bare as I’ve stripped her.
I rise to my feet, reach for the back of my T-shirt and pull it off. She stares at my chest, drags her gaze down the planes to my waist. I lower the zipper on my jeans and step out of them. Then straighten once more. I widen my stance, hold my arms at my sides, and allow her to take in every part of my body. Naked. Open. At her mercy.
Her breathing grows ragged, her lips part, and when she raises her gaze to mine, the look in her eyes is hungry, horny, and so needy that my breath hitches. I turn around, walk over to my duffel, remove the box I’ve been carrying, and return to place it on the nightstand.
She glances at it, then at me, and grows a shade paler.
"Shh," I reach over and kiss her, wrap my arms around her, and hold her close so every inch of her body is plastered to mine. I massage her shoulders, rub circles over her back, and bit by bit, the tension seeps out of her. I step back, turn her around then push her onto the bed.
"On your hands and knees, baby." I place my palm flat on the small of her back. She shivers but complies as she bends over, beautifully. I take in her heart-shaped behind, arched up, showing the valley between her ass-cheeks, the glittering butt plug, and finally, the pink of her pussy, already glistening with her arousal. I move in closer and she shudders. I grip her hip, then grasp the heart-shaped head of the butt plug and work it out of her. She groans as it comes free and the sound coils somewhere deep inside of me.
The blood drains to my groin and I have to widen my stance to accommodate my cock, that twitches and throbs and insists that I get inside of her. I lean over, grab the lube, then pour it into my palm. I warm it up, then rub it over my shaft before I move in and slide a finger inside of her. A moan tumbles from her lips as I add a second finger, and curve it. Her entire body jerks and I grab her to keep her from falling. I slip a third finger inside, and she throws her head back, "Oh, my god, Mika, that feels—"
"Good?"
"It feels…" she seems to search for the right word, "it feels like you’re stretching me apart…but in a good way."
I pull out my fingers, then fit the swollen crown of my cock to her back opening. "I am going to fuck you now."
21
Karma
I draw in a breath and before I can protest, he breaches me. A groan wells up and my knees tremble. Shit, shit, shit… This…feels…different. He feels so big, so hard, so thick as he stretches me. He pauses to allow me to accommodate his girth, and as he leans over me, he grips the back of my neck and a shiver runs down my spine. To be at his mercy like this, as he impales me and holds me captive, as he massages the curve of my arse, as his cock twitches inside of me, as he pushes forward, sinks deeper into me, as his thickness distends my backchannel so I can feel every millimeter of his throbbing cock… OMG… It’s filthy and erotic and forbidden and… So bloody good.
I taste something metallic on my palate and realize that I have bitten down on my tongue. I swallow down the coppery taste, turn to glance over my shoulder and freeze.
