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“I’ll be the one to decide, so you better keep your pretty mouth shut.”
Something in the way he says it makes my knees weak, and I let out a keening noise, leaning into his embrace. Paolo’s lips find mine again, and he wraps his arm around my waist, not allowing me to move away while his fingers find my sensitive spot and press against it. My whole body jerks with a wave of pleasure, but Paolo holds me tightly—exactly where he wants me to be.
It leaves me panting into his lips in an awkward position. My head is pushed back, my stomach is pressed to his, and my thighs are tight and quivering, trapped between the cold edge of the table and the growing heat in his pants.
Wait, is Paolo getting hard? Does that mean that he actuallywantsme?
For some goddamn reason, the thought sends a wave of heat so strong I let out a quiet moan into his lips. Yes, god,please—and as if hearing my thoughts, Paolo presses himself closer to me, allowing me to feel the strength of his erection. At the same time, he pushes his hand deeper between my thighs and with a gasp, I feel his fingers slide inside of me.
“Do you still want to kill me?” Paolo asks teasingly, playing with me, and I huff.
“Did you think a few touches would change my mind?”
I don’t know why the hell I keep talking back at him—Paolo may just pull back and leave me again. But I can’t keep my mouth shut. I want him to get back at me, I want him to be harsh with me—and a moment later, he forces me to choke on my breath as he slides his fingers out before harshly pushing them back in.
It sends a wave of pained pleasure through my body, and I grasp his shoulders tighter and let out a moan, trembling on his fingers.
“So you still want to piss me off, huh?” Paolo growls into my ear, thrusting his fingers back and forth. “Do you like it, princess? Do you want me to be rough when I take you?”
As soon as he finishes the question, Paolo pulls out his fingers and forces my weak body to turn around. I moan under my breath, feeling a thrill under my skin. I don’t know why, but his commanding tone and hands forcing me down on the table send a sick kind of pleasure through me. I can’t be treated like this—but maybe this is exactly what I want.
“Oh, you do like it, huh?” Paolo murmurs as soon as he pushes up my skirt, and I bite my lip and push my forehead against the table. Of course, he can see how wet I am from his treatment, and I feel so embarrassed—but god, it feels so good.
“You really want me to fuck you like a whore.”
“No!”
“Don’t be shy.” He rubs my butt almost gently before suddenly slapping it. “You like to be punished.”
Do I? I don’t know anymore. I barely recognize my own thoughts. They are too blurry, too filthy. I can’t think straight with my body quivering from pleasure and my mind drowning in the heat of the moment and in Paolo’s words that seem to undo me from inside.
He keeps rubbing me, making me writhe and pant against the table, and I feel so hot against its marble surface. It’s almost like a fever—and I do feel sick at the thought of being turned on by everything Paolo is doing. But I can’t help it. It’s too sweet, too good to resist, and when he enters me with his fingers again, I tighten around them.
“Do you remember what I told you yesterday?” Paolo says all of a sudden, pulling his fingers out of me. I’m too out of my mind to respond properly, so I only wait and listen to the rustle of clothes behind me.
God, it’s happening, it’s actually happening. I lick my lips and breathe out, feeling nervous all of a sudden. I know I want it, but…damn, it’s kinda scary. I tense up when I feel Paolo’s touch on my hips again and swallow. Okay, maybe this isn’t a good idea.
“Maybe we should—”
“I told you not to piss me off.” I hear the sound of his pants sliding to the floor, and a moment later I feel the hot touch of his erection. “Do you know why?”
I don’t respond. I don’t know what to do. My mind is too heavy to think, and I can’t understand myself. I feel like I want to run away and have Paolo inside of me at the same time, and it’s tearing me apart.
“Because I’m gonna make you beg.”
But Paolo doesn’t give me time to decide. He grabs my waist tighter, presses himself closer, and I can only scratch the surface of the table and swallow the sound tearing my throat as he thrusts inside of me. He takes me roughly and without question, claiming my body like he actually wants it—and it makes something in my mind switch with a choked moan.
I want him to want me, I want him touseme—and the thought would be terrifying at any other moment. But right now, I can’t lie to myself. That’s all I want, and my body gives up to his demanding hands and takes him in. It hurts when he goes deeper, but the pleasure of it is too big to care.
I don’t even notice at what point I start moaning, but I quickly lose the ability to hold it back. Paolo murmurs something praising in response to that, slightly slapping my thigh, and I instinctively move my hips toward him, asking for more. With every thrust he gives me, I move against the table, involuntarily rubbing myself, and with every passing second my moans become louder.
Goddamnit. Why does this feel better than any time I’ve touched myself? I really thought that I’d never need anything more than my fingers and toys, but now, I’m drowning in pleasure and I don’t want it to end. I want to keep Paolo moving inside of me, I want to reach my peak with him—but as soon as I think about it, he suddenly stops and pulls out.
“Does that feel good, princess?” Paolo leans on the table over me, breathing heavily, and I shiver from the touch of cool air on my skin and nod. “Yeah. You like it, huh?”
He teases my entrance with his tip, and I tense up and try to push back against him with a low moan. But Paolo pulls back with a hoarse chuckle.
“No. If you like it, you have to ask for it.”
