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I grit my teeth, refusing to obey, and Paolo chuckles and slides his palms to my thighs, pushing a hand between them. “We’ll see how long you can last.”
I lick my lips and instinctively push my thighs apart, tightening from the inside in anticipation of his touch, but Paolo only presses his hand for a moment before taking it away. No, what the hell? I part my lips to protest when I feel his fingers on my waistband, and without hesitance, he pushes my sweatpants down along with my panties.
God, that’s another level of humiliation—to have my butt up in the air without a chance to move. I feel a wave of heat rising to my cheeks, and I try to fidget and get out of here. But Paolo doesn’t let me move even an inch. He presses his palm to my back, forcing me to stay down, while his other hand travels down my waist and thigh.
“How does it feel, princess?”
“I hate you.”
Paolo leans forward to press a kiss to my shoulder, allowing me to feel the heat of his erection through his jeans. “I’m glad you like it.”
I groan under my breath and push my forehead deeper into the pillow, curling my hands into fists. Of course I like it. Paolo’s fingers are all over my intimate parts, melting the last bits of my sanity in the heat of desire. My body is alight with the pleasure of his touches, but I want more, god, I want so much more.
I bite my lip, but the moan still escapes me when Paolo slides his fingers inside of me. My muscles tighten, craving him deeper, and I let out a heavy breath and push back against him. But as soon as I do this, Paolo slides his fingers out and away from me, and I let out a loud groan.
Ah, come on, he can’t be serious!
“Paolo, please,” I mumble into the pillow with my voice trembling from weakness and pleasure. “You know I want you.”
“You have to tell me.”
“I’m telling you!” I almost blow up, but his fingers come back to tease me, and I immediately shudder and lower my voice. “Ah, please, Paolo, just—just take me.”
“Are you mine?”
“Y-yes, yes, only yours,” I blabber, losing my mind in the movements of his fingers. “I want you, ah, I want you to take me, please, Paolo, use me, fuck me, ah, yes, yes, please!”
Following my nonsensical pleading, Paolo presses his hips to me, and I feel that he’s finally naked. My whole body tenses up in sweet anticipation, and I arch my back to give him access—but all of a sudden, Paolo grabs my shoulder and hoists me up before pushing me down on the carpet.
“What? No!” I try to gather myself and fight his grip, but I’m too weak, and Paolo is too determined.
“Yes, Jacinta. I’m gonna do whatever I want with you.”
He chuckles, holding my hands against the floor, and when I meet his gaze, I realize that there’s no way out. Paolo is looking at me like I’m his prey, and I can’t fight it. It calls to something inside of me, and I lick my lips and part my legs willingly, earning a smirk from him. Why does this make me feel so desired? Why do I like it so much?
“See, you can be a very good toy,” Paolo murmurs, and the next moment, I arch my back and part my lips in a silent moan when he finally thrusts inside of me.
Oh god. I almost forgot how good it feels.
I close my eyes and grip his hands holding mine, squeezing them with every moan and every wave of pleasure. I wrap my legs around him to give him better access to my body, and Paolo rewards me with faster, deeper thrusts, making me push my head back and whimper out loud.
He has already heated my body with his fingers, so it doesn’t take long for the pleasure to become so strong and overwhelming that I can’t find a way out of it. I shake my head, trying to hold back, and Paolo reads the gesture and slows down. But no, no, I don’t want it to stop! My body is trembling, but I’m still craving more.
I open my eyes, trying to focus on his face above me, and suddenly Paolo leans down and presses a tender kiss to my cheek. “You are beautiful, Jacinta.”
What? Am I hallucinating?
But before I come back to my senses, Paolo pushes himself up and away from me and moves his hands down my waist, guiding me to roll onto my side. I follow him mindlessly, still unable to think properly—and my whole body jerks with pleasure coming from a new angle. I slump on the carpet with a loud moan, forgetting all about my sanity, and my fingers try to dig into the floor.
Paolo doesn’t stop there, though. Whenever I get close to my climax, he keeps changing positions and angles, drowning my body in pleasure. The heat of it turns my skin pink, the strength of it makes my muscles tremble, and I can barely feel my throat through the loud and relentless moans.
It doesn’t take long for the delay of my orgasm to become a sweet kind of torture, and for my moans to turn into cries for mercy. “Ah, P-Paolo, ah, please!”
“Yes, princess, yes, god, I love you, I love you so much,” I hear his distant breathy voice, and at the same time, his thrusts become faster.
The waves of friction make me shudder and scratch the carpet, my hips instinctively moving to take him deeper. The pleasure starts to build up at the tips of my toes, but unlike previous times, Paolo doesn’t stop and only adds force to his thrusts, groaning in his own ecstasy. My muscles jerk and the orgasm shimmers through my body, but Paolo holds me in one place, pushing deeper—and I shudder with a silent scream.
Goddamnit. I breathe out, barely feeling myself, and shiver in the post-orgasmic glow. That was so good.
