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"Angry? I am livid!" I toss my hair out of my eyes. "You filmed us without telling me. You have a camera in the mirror."
"I did. And now we can view ourselves come as I make you come again, in real time."
"Fuck you, Luca. This is not okay."
"Are you telling me no?" He arches an eyebrow.
Guess I was enamored by the tattoo on his back. His love for theCosa Nostra, for Sicily, for the only way of life he’s known and which he’s now being forced to leave behind. I saw the man behind the gangster and thought I was glimpsing the emotions behind the facade he shows the world. I was wrong. He’s always going to be the mobster. The made-man. The villain with the wounded past. And all he has to do is be mean and sarcastic and growl at me, and I fall apart at his feet.
I try to rise, but in one swoop, he throws me back on the bed on my front and plants his big hand on my back so I’m held in place.
"Let me go," I snarl.
On screen, I groan. The sound is so hot, so thick with lust, that I can’t stop my gaze from veering toward it.
I writhe under his hold, trying to get free.
On screen, he pounds into me, and I throw my head back and moan.
My thighs tremble, my pussy clenches, and a shudder vibrates along my lower belly. No, no, no, I’m bleeding. I’m sure my period blood is gushing out of me. I turn to tell him that, but he’s gripped my thighs under my butt and lifted me onto my knees. I try to squeeze my legs together, but of course, he pries them apart. Cool air flows over my exposed pussy.
"Luca," the screen me groans.
"Luca, what are you doing?" I cry, then gasp for he’s buried his face between my legs. He licks my clit, then dives down between my legs and begins to eat me out in earnest. He shoves his tongue inside my channel and licks and sucks and curls his tongue inside me.
"Oh, my god," I cry out.
"Oh, god. That’s so hot," on-screen Jeanne cries out.
He pulls out his tongue, only to spank my butt. The slice of pain cuts through the chattering in my head, and everything grows quiet. My entire focus is drawn to the shimmering patch of flesh on my behind where he slapped me. I open my mouth to yell, when he brings his heavy palm down on my ass cheek again, and on the other side, alternating until my entire butt is aflame. The fire sinks into my blood, warms my core, and sizzles up toward my breasts. My entire body feels too heavy. My arms and legs feel like they are weighed down.
On-screen Jeanne moans, "I can’t take it anymore. I can’t."
I can’t take my gaze off her dilated pupils, her features, which are contorted into an expression of sexual desire so potent that it feels wrong to be watching the video, even though it’s me and him, and we just enacted that scene not half an hour ago.
"Watch yourself come, Angel," his voice rumbles against my pussy.
"Come," on-screen Luca commands.
A second later, he thrusts his tongue inside my channel again. This time, he sweeps his tongue, once again, across my pussy lips, over my slit, then drags his finger around the forbidden knot of nerves between my ass cheeks. Everything he’s doing is more than filthy, and unheard of, and... Oh, god, it’s so arousing, so explicit and vulgar, and so earthy. It’s so very Luca. And if he does it again, I won’t be able to stop myself from enjoying it.
"No," I gasp.
"Yes," he rumbles. He curls his tongue inside my pussy, then sinks his finger inside by back channel. He adds a second finger, and oh, my god, the combination is too much. The climax detonates deep inside of me. He swipes his tongue in and out of me, then pinches my clit as he curves his fingers inside my back channel, and the orgasm crashes over me. I see stars. My chest hurts. My throat protests. That’s when I realize I must have been screaming. He pulls his mouth from my pussy, and his fingers from my ass, only to replace it with something much bigger.
The image on the phone grows dark. In the silence that follows, I tremble.
"Luca," my voice comes out too thin, too scared.
"Shh." He slides his fingers around and plays with my already-sensitized clit. I whimper, or at least I think I do, because I’m too relaxed, still floating in my post-orgasmic state. He notches the crown of his dick against my back hole, and a tremor ladders up my spine. My stomach flip flops, and my thighs tremble.
"Luca please."
"Trust me, baby."
"You’re too big," I whine.
"You can take it." He scoops up my cum from my slit and smears it around my puckered hole. "You’re so wet, so moist, so heartbreakingly perfect."
