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“Nobody will come in without knocking,” he says, because he seems to be able to read my freaking mind.
Before I can take my clothes all the way off, he crouches and does it for me, tossing my sweats and panties onto the floor behind him.
“Turn around,” he orders as he stands again.
My blood turns to ice in my veins.
“Now,” he commands, but I can’t move.
“Why?” I whisper.
He frowns at me. “Because it will be a better angle to fuck you at down here. Now turn around.”
“I don’t l-like it from b-behind,” I stammer, and damn, now the whole moment is ruined.
He’s going to ask why, or he’s just going to assume that I’m a prude or some kind of inhibited freak. But instead, he wraps me in his giant, tattooed arms and lifts me onto the counter.
“Then this will work just fine,” he groans as he positions himself between my thighs.
He mumbles something in Italian as he presses his huge cock against my opening. My thighs are trembling. My pussy is quivering. Because of our height difference, we are eye to eye for a change. He seems different like this. Looking straight at him rather than up.
“How long has it been, Kat? Really?”
“T-two years,” I mumble, feeling like an idiot. Why does he even need to know that? Does that make me less attractive to him somehow? Or more?
“I’ll take this first one easy, okay?” he whispers, and the softness in his voice makes me almost burst into tears.
He doesn’t wait for an answer before he edges the tip of his length inside me, stretching me wide. It burns, but it feels so damn good too.
I wrap my arms and legs around him, burying my face against his neck as he eases in deeper.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he hisses through clenched teeth. Then he takes hold of my legs and unwraps them from around his waist. “I need you to let me in, kitten,” he groans, full of frustration and impatience. He hooks his forearms under my knees, pulling my hips toward him and spreading my thighs wide open. I suppose all that Pilates paid off after all.
My heart starts beating wildly as he looks at me. So exposed and open and vulnerable. “Your cunt looks so good being stretched by my cock,” he groans, and I reward him with a moan as my pussy squeezes around him.
“Just keep holding on to me,” he growls as he slides a little deeper, and wet heat floods my pussy.
I cling to his neck, dragging my lips over his skin as his muscles vibrate with the effort of holding himself back. I can feel the raw power in every muscle of his body, and the fact that he’s trying to be gentle makes my heart ache. This is torture. The slow burning stretch of being filled by him is turning my brain to liquid, not to mention every other organ in my body.
It hurts, but it’s not enough. I need all of him. Suddenly, I’m overcome by a desperate need to be filled by him. A burning desire to have him deep inside me, until there is no space left between us. My pussy throbs with a deep, carnal longing for his cock.
Dusting my lips over the skin of his neck, I smile as it elicits a deep growl in his throat. “I want more,” I whisper.
“More?”
“For the love of God, Dante. Just fuck me,” I plead, surprised at my own words because I have never, ever, begged to be fucked before. And certainly not by a man as dangerous and hateful as this one.
He curses in Italian as he drives all the way inside me. I press my mouth against his skin, muffling my cries of pleasure tinged with pain as he fills me. I try to squeeze my thighs, but he holds me open as he slides out before driving back inside. Warmth floods my hot channel. Each time he pulls out and thrusts back in, my pussy rewards him with more slick heat.
“Oh fuck,” I whimper in his ear as he groans in mine.
“You feel so fucking good. This cunt… I knew it would…” He thrusts harder, and I almost pass out as the crown of his cock rubs against something inside me that makes me scream in pleasure whilst also wanting to declare my undying devotion to him. How can a devil like him fuck like a God?
As the last tremors of my second orgasm pulse through me, Dante whispers in Italian as he grinds out his own release. When he pulls out of me a few seconds later, the wet sound that echoes around the small room makes my cheeks burn with heat. He was wearing a condom, so that was all me.
He pulls the condom off and tosses it into the trashcan. I lean against the counter with my legs wobbling like Jell-O and wondering what happens now. This is an unfamiliar territory for me.
But then he grabs hold of my hand and pulls me with him as he starts walking out of the door.
