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Not allowing her a moment to exhale, I stuff my saturated fingers into her shocked mouth. Then my mouth is all over my fantasy girl, my fucking alluring contradiction.
I bring her up onto the wall, hoisting her suspended with ease. I glide the head of my cock against her drizzling slit, parting her lips without penetrating her. My chest trembles from a deep, animalistic groan.
Thrashing her head around, Gina twirls her hips. She doesn’t want to open that mouth to beg for my dick. She’s trying to subtly spear herself.
“No, Bella, I’m not making it that easy on you. You won’t be rewarded for that mouth.” I tease, my head slathering all her cum. “Beg me!”
“Oh, yes, yes,” she screams like a woman over the edge of insanity.
Chuckling softly, I let my hardened erection drift over her opening. I alternate from savagely mauling her aureoles to worshiping her nipples. Then I pull her legs off my waist. I spin her around. My hand clinches the back of her neck. The side of her face is planted against the wall now, sultry eyes cutting through me. My hips rotate, erection grinding against her round ass.
"Am I a substitute for your dildo, Gina?”
“Nope. My dildo comes with a good friend,Dom. . .” She winks. “Perignon.”
“Aw,sweet pea,Daddy has yet to train you.” My teeth fasten onto her earlobe, and I nibble. “I can make you cum four times in the next ten minutes, sweetheart.”
My hand slaps her ass, kneading it as she sucks in hard air, expression pained.
“Four orgasms, Dirty Santa? How much will that run me?”
My hand travels down, fingertips gracing over her spine. I push my toe along the inside of her bare feet, compelling her stance to widen. I’m squatting by the time I grip her by both ass cheeks. My teeth sink into the thick flesh of her.
Gina pants.
“This is the part where you beg me to stop, Gina . . . you gonna beg me to stop?”
“St . . . oooohhhh . . .” The complaint becomes a sigh as I work my tongue where my teeth have left a mark on her round buttocks.
The wall supports Gina. When I kneel behind her, the force from my arm weighs down on her ass in a hardsmack! I continue to bring my hand down, beating the bad out of her ass.
“I’m sorry . . .” she calls after a good thrashing.
Gina’s back arches. Her succulent pussy pops into view from behind. I fall to my knees, my tongue darts into her core, walls jerk sporadically.
From the depth of her throat, Gina’s calling my name, alternating from apologizing and praising me. The meat and muscles in Gina’s ass and hips begin to fail her as she sags against the wall.
“You’ve learned your lesson.” I look into her innocent brown eyes, my chest heaves. I lift her wilted body; the gentleness of my touch contrasts with the rough way I just touched her. My future wife whimpers against me and relaxes into my arms.
I place Gina onto the bed. Her hands come up, touching me, grasping me. Delirious, she begs, “Don’t go . . .”
“I would never treat you how you’ve treated me, Gina.” Breathlessly, I run a hand through her hair. After the workout, dancing, and punishing Gina, my muscles slightly ache. A good that comes from pure stamina, losing control for the first time in a while. Gina’s gentle body curls into me. I ache for the feast her pussy once gave. Looking into her eyes, I can see she longs for the same. For us.
The moment seems surreal like we’d been stuck on pause for an eternity. I press my lips to her forehead. My mind whirls with exuberant possibilities. I thread my fingers through hers. When we surface, I’m headed to prison. The lovely, innocent Ms. Galloway being snatched into a van is all over the news. But I’m selfish at this moment. I press a kiss to the inside of her wrist. Looking up at her through hooded eyes, I say, “You miss Daddy’s dick, don’t you?”
“So, bad, Santino. I miss you like crazy.”
“C’mere, your punishment is almost over. Suck Daddy’s—”
At the front door, there’s a jiggling of the handle. Placing a finger to my lip, I’m standing on the bed and jumping down from it in seconds.
“San—”
“Be quietnow.” I shove into my jeans and slip my bare feet into my boots as the front door opens below. Over my shoulder, I gesture for her to get under the covers. Adrenaline unbridled in my veins.
But I know that floppy fishing cap, and I know the old man wearing it. Uncle Piero traded his custom suits for tan khakis. The old man has gear in his hands to complete his harmless look.
He pulls off the disguise, and the fishing pole clatters to the ground. “Santino! We’ve searched all over for you. What did that sonofabitch, Tony, get you into, huh?”
