“You’re really fucking talkative.”
“Better fuck that smart-mouth tendency right outta me.” I grin while I say it, but he takes it as a challenge, and with one pull of his hips, his dick is almost all the way out again, just the head of it working back and forth in my ring, and I can’t help moaning, dropping my head down. “Please. I’ve wanted you for so long.” I sound more plaintive than I meant to, but it seems to work. He slides his way back in, not as slow this time, but still much slower than I want.
I want him to screw the living daylights out of me. I want him to screw me so hard I forget my name, my father’s name, my entire familial history. His hand is on top of mine and I splay my fingers so his weave into mine, and hold tight. “Please,” I say again, and goddamn, I sound so serious. Not like me at all, whoever that is.
I’m not sure what all this means.
I do know I like it.
And finally, finally Luca seems to be willing to listen to my pleading, stops teasing, and gets down to it. It’s not hard, not like I expected, but it’s exactly how I need it. It’s deep, the deepest dicking of my life maybe, his cock reaching up and stretching inside me and rubbing over and over my most sensitive place as he works in me. He pulls out as far as he can on the way out without breaking our connection, the crown of his cock making my ring bulge and my mouth moan. I guess he likes that noise, because he drives deep back in and then does it again, pulls all the way out only not quite; and then he does again and does it slower this time, maybe to see if that changes the squeals coming out of me.
This guy fucks like he’s got nothing else to do but perfect the art. I try to pull my hand out from under his so I can jack myself, but he shakes his head, a drop of sweat landing on my cheek as he does. “No, angel. You’re doing this for me. Taking it how I want to give it to you.”
I groan and give up, letting my head fall back. “Then give it to me,” I mumble. Hey, if he wants me to lie here and take a fucking, I can do that.
He begins to thrust, finding the best angle for him to get all the way in, deep as he can, and hallelujah, it’s exactly the same angle my prostate needs, too. He keeps it up until my cock is leaking so much it’s like a river between us. He likes it, I can tell, looking alternately smug and hot for it.
“You’re so wet for me, baby,” he croons. “You going to spill soon?”
I’m about to groan that yes, yes I am, when I figure out what he actually wants to hear. “Only—when you—let me,” I huff out, in time with his thrusts. I wrap my legs around his hips, pulling him further in. “Only—with your—permission, husband—”
He lets out this savage noise and his pace picks up in a way that tells me he’s close. He grabs a handful of my hair and tips my throat back to graze his teeth along my jugular. But the pain only sweetens the bliss, and I let out a moan. I’ve had plenty of guys who like to play rough, but this guy? He knows how to do it right.
Or else we’re just made for each other, like I’ve thought for the last five years.
“Come on, baby,” I whisper. “Fill me up.”
He leans down to my ear and pants, “Take it, angel.” Three more thrusts and he lets out a long, low groan, his cock pulsing in my ass, spilling out his hot cum and filling me up so far I think I can taste it at the back of my throat.
“You’re so fucking hot,” I pant. “Do I get my turn now?”
I’m expecting a perfunctory hand job. But he does the strangest thing. He pulls out, and gets up on his knees to look down at me. His blue eyes are darkening, and I think to myself, I might know this man, but I’ll never know this man. His cock is still drooling with the last of his cum, but he ignores it, and instead taps one finger on the head of my dick, making it bounce in mid-air.
“Please, baby,” I say, and I’m starting to shiver. “Let me come.”
Most guys I’ve been with, once they spill, they’re not interested in teasing out my pleasure any longer. But my husband is not most men, and that is something I need to remember.
He hunkers down on the bed, mouths at my balls, and then slides his hand under my ass to roll my hips up. “Hold your legs up,” he tells me, and I grab my ankles and hold on like I’m hanging from a cliff. He works his way down my taint to my sore hole and gives it a wide, warm lick.
No one has ever done this to me before, treated my asshole with the respect it deserves. Who would have thought some mobster would be the first to do it? I wriggle against his mouth as he tongue-kisses my hole, my dick straining and leaking and making a goddamn spectacle of itself.
“You like that?” Luca rumbles, after he seems to have licked out all the cream he put inside me.
“I love that,” I gasp, wriggling around more.
“You want more, or you want to come?”
“I wanna shoot,” I say, because I don’t like to think I’m keeping him down there too long. He might get bored or something.
But he smirks. “I wanna do this some more,” he says. “And since we’re doing what I want, I guess you’ll just have to lie there and put up with it.”
I
