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“Tap my thigh three times if it’s too much,” he growls as he leans down to kiss me roughly. When he pulls away, I nod, assuring him I understand. “Good girl,” he says, causing a shiver of pleasure to run down my body. “Now,open your mouth and take my cock like the needy little slut you are for me.”
My cunt instantly floods with arousal at his words, and I open my mouth, eager to taste him again.
He pushes the head past my lips, stretching my mouth wide around him as I try to swirl my tongue around. Wrapping my hand around the base of his cock, I lean closer, desperate to take him in deeper. Desperate to taste more of him.
“Relax, Alessa,” he says as I tense, straining to accommodate his thick length. “Your mouth is perfect. Just like your tight little cunt.”
Once again, his words make me groan with arousal, the action making his cock jerk inside my mouth. The movement releasing something primal in me. My left hand goes to his balls, while with my right, I find my clit, circling it round and round, already on the verge of climax. I moan around him again, taking him in as deep as I can.
“Are you touching yourself, baby?” His voice sounds strained. Opening my eyes, I look up, taking him into the back of my throat. With my eyes on his hooded ones, I hum my response, my finger slipping past his balls and stroking the skin between them and his ass. His hips jerk up into me, hitting the back of my throat and making my eyes water.
“Fuck, baby,” he rasps as I pull off to catch a breath.
“Fuck my mouth,” I plead, my finger assaulting my swollen clit, before I take him in all the way. He still hesitates, so with a groan of frustration, I dip my fingers inside me, then swap hands. My right going straight for his asshole. The slick finger, pressing against his hole, slips in past the knuckle easily. Dante roars, jerking into me, the grip of his hand on the back of my hair tightening as he furiously thrusts into my mouth.
Elation, pleasure, pride. Those are the emotions I’m feeling as I watch the rapture on his face.
“Baby, I’m gonna come. If you don’t want—”
I swirl my finger inside his ass, then reach for my soaked pussy, pinching my clit, then rubbing it feverishly as Dante’s cock assaults my mouth. My brain is going fuzzy from lack of oxygen, my vision going dark, tainted with white spots. My aching pussy clenches around the fingers I have slipped in, and I come around them just as Dante pulls out enough to let me catch a breath and shoots hot cum down my throat. I swallow every last drop, then lick his dick clean, still shaking from my own climax.
He pulls me onto his lap and covers us with the blanket I discarded onto the floor. Wiping away the wet tears from my cheeks, he kisses my forehead, each of my eyes, then my mouth. Slowly, greedily.
The words are at the back of my throat. I want to say them, but I can’t, a fear I haven’t felt before stopping me before I can even open my mouth.
Ping. The sound from his laptop startles us both. With a sigh, he wakes the computer up, his eyes scanning the screen. I move to slip off his lap, but his arm around me tightens.
“Stay,” he murmurs into my hair.
Tensing, he curses under his breath, the grip he has on me becoming strained.
“What is it?” I ask.
My body sags as he shakes his head. Of course, he wouldn’t share anything of importance with me, but then he surprises me when he speaks. “It’s just a feeling.”
I don’t probe for more, not wanting to spook him.
“It’s nothing, really,” he trails off, taking a deep breath. “Just a capo who’s being a dick. I normally would put him straight back in line, but he’s an old family friend and—” hedoesn’t finish. “He wants to take over the port for something shady. I just know it.”
I gasp. The port.
“Who is it?” I ask. Dante stiffens around me.
“No one you need to know about,” his voice is cold, the same ice I heard from him the first time he spoke to me.
I brush it off. “Is it M. Conti?” I ask eagerly.
Dante’s fingers dig into my skin. “How do you know Marco?”
“I don’t!” I exclaim, bouncing excitedly in his lap. “You know, when you made me rewrite all those useless documents, I put a penis watermark on?”
His lip twitches. “Penis watermark?”
Ugh. I’ll have to change that too, because the watermark is a blatant lie. Either way, that’s not important right now. Disregarding his playful question, I continue, “Well, there was a spreadsheet amongst them. One you were working on when I was by your desk, except the printout didn’t have all the numbers, and I remembered seeing something off on the screen and—”
“Slow down.” His grip on me eases. “What do you mean you remember something was off. You were by my desk for less than a minute.”
“Yes, yes. It’s my eidetic memory. I saw it for less than a minute, but my brain registered the numbers.”
