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"And he was part of a Mafia gang in the movie?"

She nods. "A Russian clan."

"That explains it. It’s not uncommon for some of us to choose this as a tattoo."

"First, I find out that your second name is the same as the middle name of The-Actor-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. Then, you play his favorite song. Now, it turns out you sport a tattoo his character wore in John Wick… It’s," she shakes her head, "it’s mind-boggling."

"Or maybe, The-Actor-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named is giving you his blessing? Maybe it’s a sign from him that he approves of us."

"Eh?" She scrunches her eyebrows.

"Think about it. You have a thing for him, and now, I’m your movie boyfriend, come to life."

"Hmph..." She twists her lips. "You may have a point."

"I always have a point, baby, and in this case, a very big, blunt point... in my pants."

Her gaze drops to my crotch and she flushes.

"See how much I want you? You haven’t even touched me, and I’m so hard for you, Princess."

She reaches down and lowers my zipper, then pushes down my pants, along with my boxer briefs. My cock springs free, and a gasp slips from her lips. A flush blooms over her cheeks, down her neck, to swoop down her breasts—her gorgeous, plump tits, with nipples so peaked that they resemble Johnny Utah’s upright surfboard in Point Break.

A-n-d I have officially lost it. I’m comparing her nipples to surfboards? And not just any surfboard, but to the character’s surfboard in the movie of The-Actor-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named that I saw. And have seen… many times.What? It’s Point Break.It has nothing to do with the fact thathe’sin it. Besides, I was young. I didn’t know any better then.

She trails her fingers up my cock and my balls tighten. She raises her gaze to mine, and whatever she sees there causes her to part her lips. She gulps and I hold her gaze.

"Just because I allowed you to undress me, doesn’t mean I’m going to let you direct the proceedings."

A shiver runs down her body. Her breathing grows ragged and her pupils dilate. She’s perfect. She loves it when I command her. When I dominate her. When I order her to follow my directions.

"Suck me off, Princess."

She firms her lips, even as her eyes gleam. She wants to do what I ask of her, but something in her resists. And it’s that stubborn core of hers which attracts me to her. It’s that obstinacy in her that pushes her to stand firm in the face of my overpowering personality. It’s the fact that, even after everything we’ve been through, she still hasn’t taken that final step of putting her faith in me. Which frustrates me, and intrigues me, and pushes me to find a way to wear her down. To break her. To make her mine over and over again.

"Wrap those pretty pink lips around my cock."

44

Elsa

"What?" I hear the word that slips from my lips, and a part of me wonders why I even bother with the token protest. I know what he wants. Hell, I want it. I want to oblige him with what he wants, and yet, something in me insists that I hold out. That I don’t let him see how easy it would be for him to control me. How compelled I am to do as he says. How close I am to giving in and allowing him to direct me and manipulate my body, and my mind, and my heart into doing what he wants me to do.

"You heard me." He lowers his voice to a hush, and a buzz of electricity races under my skin. He’s using that Dom voice of his. OMG, soon I’ll be helpless to resist him.

I firm my lips, and he glances down at his crotch, then back to my face. "You will do as I say," he growls.

My breath catches. My mouth waters. It would be so easy to bend down, to lock my lips around that thick, gorgeous dick of his, to lick and suck and draw him into my mouth. To take him down my throat and show him just how much I want him. And I do… I want to pleasure him, to make him realize there’s no one else but me who can give him what he wants. That, even if he can’t forgive me for what I’m going to do next… He’ll always remember my spectacular blowjob.

I glance up, hold his gaze, then dip my head toward his crotch. I close my fingers around the root of his shaft, then drag my tongue from base to head. His stomach muscles clench, his chest planes flex, and his dick lengthens even further.

Color suffuses his cheeks, his lips part, and a groan rumbles up his throat. "Cazzo," his jaw tics, "don’t fucking stop."

I close my mouth around the head, and the tangy, salty taste of his pre-cum explodes on my palate. My sex stutters and my belly ties itself in knots. Moisture seeps out from between my thighs. I bob my head to take him deeper inside my mouth, and his entire body seems to go solid.

His gaze intensifies as I pull back until he’s poised between my lips, then I tilt my head and take him down my throat.

"Cristo Santo, così fottutamente buono,"he says in a rough voice. A melting sensation grips my chest. I could listen to him speak Italian all day, even if I have no idea what he’s saying.

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