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“Take off your panties. Now. Or I’m fucking you with them on.”
He hooked one of my legs around his waist, and my hands moved to push the lace down, but he was already pushing them aside.
“Too slow.”
And then he sunk himself deep into me.
My fingers dug into his back, unsure whether to pull him closer to me or push him further away. My wetness dripped onto his cock, the insides of my thighs, the hallway floor where anyone could see.
Each thrust was punishment for making him want me. The louder I moaned, the less controlled his movements became.
He leaned forward and bit my nipple through my shirt, sucking it into his mouth along with the fabric.
A door opened down the hall. I swung my face to the right, saw the blurred shadow of someone through my lust-hazed eyes, and couldn’t hold back the groan as Bastian’s piercing hit me just right.
He didn’t stop, not caring about the audience. It was just me and him as his neighbor retreated. It struck me, not for the first time, that Bastiano Romano could do whatever he wanted, but right now… he wanted me.
He bit the side of my neck and nipped his way up to the corner of my lips. His hands spread my cheeks, and he toyed with my backside, sliding his finger in and out to match the way his cock hit my G-spot.
“I could take this, too,” he claimed, always so enthralled by the idea of taking from me even though, I realized, I’d give him everything in this moment without him asking.
“Do it,” I dared him, diving deeper into this thing between us than I’d ever expected.
His eyes flared, and he set me down and urged me to my knees. “Beg for it.”
I studied his face, the tick of his jaw, the hardened set of his eyes. He needed this. He needed to control me, so he could feel control in his life again.
His temporary lack of power was the sickness, and giving him control of me was the cure.
And I would.
I’d give it all to him.
Not because I felt guilty, but because I was just as depraved as the people I lied to.
I wanted Bastiano Romano.
Any way I could get him.
“Beg for it,” he demanded again, this time less gentle as he gripped my hair.
“Please.”
“Not with your words.” He fisted his cock and guided my head to it by my hair. “Show me how needy your tight little ass is for me.”
My hands gripped his thighs as he thrust into my face.
“Your ass better feel tighter than your mouth,” he goaded and pushed deeper into me until his piercing hit the back of my throat.
I wanted to gag but held it back, determination driving me to take all of him. Glaring at his taunts, I sucked my cheeks in, narrowing my mouth’s hold on his cock as his balls tightened and hit my chin.
The wetness dripped down my thighs, making a mess in the hallway, where anyone could walk out and see me suck hungrily at his cock like it was my first meal of the day.
I reached between my legs and tried to swipe the wetness off my thighs, but he swatted my hands, pulled out of my mouth, and spun me around.
Reaching down, he grabbed my hips and lifted. His fingers gathered my wetness from behind and used it to slide them into my ass. He spread my wetness then replaced his fingers with his cock.
I screamed out in surprise as he slid the tip of his cock into my ass, my spit and wetness making his movements embarrassingly smooth.
