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"Fuck that."

He lowers me to the bed, bends over me, and resumes kissing me. I sigh as his weight pushes me into the mattress. As his thick hardness rubs into my core. As the sculpted planes of his body dig into my curves. Where he’s hard, I’m soft; where I’m small, he’s big. Where my body dips, his pushes forward boldly. The contrast when his body covers mine, when his heat wraps around me and his limbs are entwined around mine, is mind-boggling and so damn erotic. Goosebumps pepper my skin. My toes curl, my scalp tingles, and I can barely keep my eyelids propped open. I want so much to close my eyes and lose myself in him.

He raises his head and stares at me as if looking at me for the first time. His blue eyes are, once again, that midnight blue which I now know means he’s aroused. Not that there is any mistaking that column between his legs that prods at my entrance asking to be let in.

I slide my palm between us, down to his cock, and fold my fingers around it.

His entire body jolts.

"Fuck." His chest heaves. "Are you sure? Because if you’re not—"

I tilt my hips up and he slips in.

I groan. He growls. He plants his elbows on either side of me, then lunges forward and fills me and stretches me completely. I gasp, unable to move. Jesus, he’s big. So big. I’m immobilized by his monster dick. He has me pinned to the bed. He’s so deep inside me, I’m sure I can feel him in my throat.

"Oh, god," I moan. "Oh, my god."

"It’s Luca. Say my name, Angel."

"Luca."

His shaft throbs inside me.

"Again," he snarls.

"Luca."

He seems to grow even bigger and harder inside me. Pinpricks of pain skitter up my spine. I whine and try to pull away, but he leans a little more of his weight on me, and that’s it. I can’t even struggle. I’m locked in place, spiked to the bed with his monster shaft. A chuckle wells up from somewhere deep inside of me.

"Are you laughing?" He scowls.

"No. Yes. No." A gale of laughter sweeps out of me.

"I’ll show you what happens when you poke fun at me, you little hellion." He pulls out of me so slowly that I can feel every individual ridge of his cock, then he thrusts forward with such force that the entire bed jolts. I move up the bed, and he plants his knees on the mattress and hauls me up so I’m balanced on his giant thighs. At this angle, he’s skewering me. Oh, god. Tomorrow’s headlines are going to read:

Actress screwed to death by giant cock.

Another peal of laughter bubbles up. He must sense it, for he closes his mouth over mine, draws in the sounds, then digging his fingers into my hips, he lowers me back to the bed and rams into me, over and over and over again. Each time he buries himself in me, he hits that spot deep inside that I had despaired of ever discovering. Not even my trusty Hitachi managed to nail it.

What?So I went to a convent and try not to use four-letter words when I swear, but I’m allowed a vibrator, right? Only, nothing can equal the sensations that pour through me as Luca thrusts into me with such force that his balls hit the delicate skin of my butt. As he grinds his pelvis against my clit, he stares into my eyes, then releases my hip, only to slide his finger down the valley between my butt cheeks and into that forbidden puckered hole.

"Oh," I gasp, or at least, I think I do, for he’s swallowed that, too. A shudder sweeps out from where he’s planted in me and my spine curves.

He releases my mouth and whispers, "Come for me, Angel. Fly with me." And I shatter. The climax powers over me, overwhelms me, entombs me or sets me free, or both. I’m really not sure. I see flashing lights at the corners of my vision, see his big body bend with me as he roars and pours himself inside of me.

When I come to, I’m sprawled over his chest, and he’s still inside me. And still hard. I know because I can sense him between my legs. He draws lazy circles over my shoulder and my back as I press my cheek into his chest. My arms and legs feel weightless. I definitely saw God, I think. I’ll never tell the nuns that— Not that I plan on ever meeting them, but if I did, I’d be sure not to hint about the new form of worship I’ve discovered. No wonder some poets compare an orgasm to a holy experience. That, what happened, is nothing short of a miracle. For me.

I rest my chin on the demarcation between his pecs and peer up… to find him watching me with a very satisfied smirk.

"You don’t have to seem so pleased with yourself."

"You’re right, you’ve only had one orgasm."

"That’s not what I meant."

"That’s what I mean." He flips me over on my back once more, without losing the position of his cock in my pussy—how does he do that?—and brushes his lips over mine.

"That was incredible," he says softly. "I haven’t come that hard since…" He pretends to think. "Since never."

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