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I obey, planting my palms open on the top of the low coffee table and sticking my ass up, practically rubbing it in Vittorio's face. He carefully removes the plug from inside me and I onlyrealize that he has brought the lube when the ice gel is squeezed over my distended anus.
I moan, anxious, not knowing how this is still possible after I don't even know how many orgasms, but wanting more, wanting to be completely marked by Vittorio in the only place left.
“Sit down, Bella.” He plants a hand on my waist, guiding me towards his still hard member, and I close my eyes when I feel the head penetrate my ass.
The plug was big, but Vittorio's dick is much bigger and thicker. The dilation of the accessory makes it easier, but with every centimeter I lower onto it, taking it deeper inside me, I feel like I'm about to tear myself apart.
It hurts. It hurts and it's not a little, but I love it and continue the descent, moaning louder with each millimeter advanced with the help of the lubricant and Vittorio's care.
“Oh,amore.” His voice is a balm, a stimulus, a demand. All at the same time as I scream, cumming, completely overwhelmed by the pleasure of taking him in my ass for the first time.
His cum smears my thighs as it drips down my pussy, smearing my crotch, mixing with my natural lubrication, running, dripping onto the floor, and marking the carpet beneath our feet is just another aphrodisiac.
“Vittorio,” I murmur, completely lost in pleasure.
“Yes,amore. Yes,” he responds as I continue going down until my ass hits his thighs. He holds me still in place, keeping my legs spread and licking my spine, spreading goosebumps with his tongue all over my lower back.
One of Vittorio's hands slides down to my breasts, and the other to my clitoris. Together, the two work to drive me crazy. Vittorio sticks two fingers in my pussy and rubs them insidebefore removing them and bringing them to my mouth so I can suck them. I do, hungry to feel the mix of our tastes.
My lips leave his fingers and his hand fits around my neck. I turn my face away, searching for his mouth and kissing it as soon as I find it. Vittorio begins to control my airflow and his hips work, penetrating my asshole without ever actually pulling out of it.
A pressure dominates my ears at the same time that my vision begins to close, it's too intense. Everything about this man is too intense and there comes a moment when I can no longer feed the exchange of our languages, completely overwhelmed by the lack of oxygen.
I explode in one last mind-blowing orgasm and Vittorio fulfills his promise to cum deep into my ass. His hand loosens its grip on my throat, allowing me to breathe, and I do so greedily. When I am finally able to open my eyes, I find the Don staring at me with such absolute adoration that I know it can't be a figment of my imagination.
He doesn't say anything.
I do not say nothing.
But in my heart, I allow myself to believe all the things I wish I could have seen in his eyes.
CHAPTER 59
________
Vittorio Cataneo
“I don't think I understand,” theconsiglieresays, but the wavering expression on his face says exactly the opposite.
These are minimal traits, however, after years of dealing with the man in every possible context, I am able to recognize the signs. The blinds in the office at the training center are closed, and the artificial lighting provided by the lamps seems to highlight every trace of theconsigliere's disheveledness.
Despite his seemingly impassive stance, Matteo's always-straight shoulders are rigid beyond belief, and there's a muscle twitching under his left eye. The blonde keeps his fingers intertwined on top of his lap and his legs are crossed, one ankle resting on the other knee. The body self-controlled enough to, most of the time, barely betray its own breathing, shifts against the leather seat for the third time in the last ten seconds.
“You understand perfectly, Matteo.”
“You no longer want to close the deal with Coppeline,” he repeats my words as if it were necessary.
“No.”
“May I ask why?”
“Don't act stupid, we both know that this role doesn't fit you.”
“You want to keep the girl.”
“Gabriella.” First, I correct the way Matteo refers to her, because it's good for my men to start showing respect.
“Gabriella,” he repeats, understanding the implicit order.
