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I could hardly breathe, but I had rarely felt more alive and excited than at that moment.
Vincenzo pressed himself against me from behind. "Try that again," he growled threateningly, yanked my shorts down, and placed a well-aimed blow on my right buttock.
I jerked, reaching out to his hand the next second.
"Bloody hell, Dea, you can't do this to me," he hissed.
Invitingly, I stretched my butt toward him, swaying my hips. "Hit me again," I urged him. "Come on. Try harder to really hurt me."
His flat hand hit my unprotected skin, and in the first moment, I felt a piercing hot pain, but it was chased by desire. Each blow drove directly between my legs, increasing my desire for him.
After two more strokes, he paused, pressing his body against mine again. By now, his cock was rock hard, pulsing against the fabric of his jeans, rubbing uncomfortably against the irritated skin of my buttocks.
I pressed toward him with the same intensity.
God, I needed him. Urgently. Immediately. Why wasn't he inside me long ago, filling me to the last inch, when it was so obvious that I wanted him?
Vincenzo turned my head to the side, and slid his tongue over my carotid artery and down to my shoulder until his teeth sank into my flesh. I groaned in agony.
More and more new stimuli shot through my body, and slowly but surely, he flooded me with them.
"I love your taste on my tongue. You know that? Your skin, pussy, and even your fucking hair smell so seductive. But you know what tops that feeling? The second I enter you inch by inch for the first time. How it always takes you a brief moment to get used to it. I can see on your face how much you like being fucked by me. How much you need it." His mouth came closer to my ear. "In some ways, you are indeed a spoiled, greedy slut. How fortunate you are mine, and I know exactly how to handle you."
My heart stopped beating for a moment. His words caught me unexpectedly. I held my breath, feeling the lava shoot through my body, followed by lightning and a feeling similar to the moment when you hear the thunder of the storm right above you. Felt. I felt it to the very core.
My mouth dried up until his lips were suddenly on mine. Demanding. Unyielding. Hard.
At the same moment, he pushed my legs further apart, his tip resting against my pussy, but he did not penetrate me. Instead, he grabbed my hips and pulled me up and back, forcing me to slowly slide onto his cock.
I had no choice but to hold on to the tree trunk, utterly dependent on him. He set the pace. The rhythm. The angle at which he pushed himself into me again and again.
After only seconds, my legs began to tremble. I reached back to hold at least part of him and caught his forearm. My fingernails dug into his skin as he made me see stars. With each thrust, he sank hard but slowly inside me.
I bit my lower lip to stifle the detached moan that sat in my throat.
After a few minutes in that position, he pulled back, spun me away from the tree, and gave me a thrust hard enough to send me to the ground. It wasn't a second before he was over me, my legs on his arms so he could penetrate me even deeper. He didn't take his time with that. Meanwhile, he tore my shirt.
When he was up to the last inch inside me, he leaned forward. "Where is your resistance now,maga?" he taunted me, simultaneously fucking me again brutally and relentlessly.
An extended moan escaped as he repeatedly hit that sensitive spot inside me. He knew it. Played with it. Brought me closer to an orgasm, only to change the angle again and tear me away.
His amused grin gave him away.
I grabbed his head and pulled him closer. Kissed him. And sighed his name while our mouths were connected. At the same moment, his hips jerked uncontrollably against mine.
I knew his one weak point, and I was only too happy to exploit it if I could irritate him with it.
My hand slid from his shoulders to his butt so I could dig my fingers into the soft skin.
He allowed it for a few seconds until he grabbed my arms, pressed them into the moss above my head, and then bent forward to devote his mouth to my nipples, which stretched inviting toward him because he forced me to arch my back.
I enjoyed every second. Every movement he made with his hips. Every body contact. Every impatient touch.
"I can feel your pussy tightening around me, Dea. I know what you want. But the question is do you deserve it? Are you good enough to be allowed to have it?"
It was a rhetorical question, I registered, as he grabbed me and turned us around once so that I was sitting on him. I felt him even more intensely this way.
I rode him, savoring every moment, especially what was happening on his face. After just a few movements, I knew what would bring him to orgasm the fastest and me right along with him. Seeing how detached and wholly absorbed he was at the moment, satisfied me almost more than feeling his cock inside me and knowing that all these sensations and reactions were my fault.
