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Turning my head, I studied her intently. “You don’t seem troubled.”
She shrugged, the action exaggerated. “Not really. I guess I grew up around it, bad men I mean.”
That gave me far too much of an insight into her life. Why did I have a terrible feeling her father was in the mafia? I racked my brain, trying to remember if there was a Bianchi sister. She was Italian, so that could be the case. Jesus. Either I’d stumbled onto that and I needed to buy a series of lottery tickets or I’d just stumbled into a cavern that would lead to hell. “Does the name the Bianchis mean anything to you?”
Her eyes narrowed and I could tell instantly the name wasn’t familiar. “No. Should it?”
“I’m still trying to figure you out, little dove. Nothing more.” I brushed hair from her face.
When she offered another smile, one just as sly as before, my hunger only continued to increase. “Don’t. Perhaps you won’t like what you find.” She took the glass from my hand, pulling it to her lips.
It was impossible to take my eyes off her as she enjoyed several sips, her eyes closing. I shook my head, still trying to put the pieces together. Whoever she was, she was someone’s daughter.
Likely a man of importance.
Mafia? Perhaps.
If so, I’d stepped into more than just quicksand.
I took the glass from her hand, placing it on the nightstand. “No more talking, unless you tell me exactly who you are, princess. And I sense you are a true princess.”
“If so then my crown is made of thorns and blood. I won’t burden you with my life, Francesco. You have yours to worry about.”
I pushed her down, intertwining my fingers in hers. “Then we fuck.”
The way she bit her lower lip reminded me that she was young and vulnerable.
And that she had been entirely too innocent for a beast like me to take, but there was no turning back now. I’d breached her womanhood, which rivaled every other intense moment I’d experienced in my life. A primal surge erupted from deep within, the realization that she’d chosen me for such a tremendous gift not weighing nearly heavily enough on my mind.
My hunger continued to be explosive and I used my knee to press her legs apart, savoring the way she arched her back, her cravings becoming as wound up as mine. As crazy as it sounded, I was glad I’d used the belt so she could feel my control over her for an extended period of time. The thought was far too delicious.
“I can’t wait to be inside of you again.”
“Then don’t wait. I need you. Now.”
As soon as I pressed the tip back to her tight channel, she issued a ragged moan, her fingers clawing at the bedding. Fuck me, I could do this for hours, but I knew her lithe body wouldn’t be able to take it all night long.
I slid my arm around her waist, gripping her tightly as I slowly thrust the entire length of my cock back inside. She was so fucking wet, the sound as I entered her echoed in my ears. She shuddered in my hold, her quivering body so small against mine. As I pulled out, she bucked against me, arched her back.
“My little vixen is very hungry,” I murmured and shifted my hand to her breast, cradling the heaviness of it in my large hand. My mind was blown by how much I craved every part of her, longing to spend days, not just hours, exploring every inch of her body.
Panting, she laughed nervously as she’d done several times, her scattered whisper another round of music for my ears. “Yes, very much so.”
When I pounded into her again, she met every hard thrust, her animalistic needs bridging the surface. I rolled my lips over her shoulder, keeping her in place as I took my time. While her tight pussy fought the intrusion, the hard clenching and releasing was a beautiful indication of how well our bodies molded together.
The moment I developed an intense rhythm, I couldn’t stop myself from using more force, fucking her like the crazed man I’d become. All because of her.
“You’re so…” She laughed, still shaking in my hold but no longer fighting me.
“Are you still glad you ran into the path of a very bad man?” When I nipped her shoulder, she let out a rapturous yelp.
“Yes. God. Yes. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. This is the best fucking night of my life.”
I believed her, and if I had to admit it, I’d say the same. I pinched her nipple, enjoying her ragged mews as I increased the level of pain. If it bothered her, there was no way of telling, her reactions exactly as I’d hoped they’d be.
Within minutes, I knew I was about to lose control, which was far too early. I couldn’t help myself, pounding into her relentlessly, rearing back so I could grip both her hips, hips that were meant for only my hands. I never wanted another man to touch her. I craved to brand her with my initials and lock her away.
There was no desire to allow my bird to fly free, even if that’s exactly what would need to happen. I pumped long and hard, holding back until the very last moment.
