“I-I do. I love it,” I slur. It hurts to be fucked so hard after I just came, but I want to feel sore. I want to know he couldn’t resist me every time I move later. Those days apart didn’t soften him at all, and I fucking love how rough he is today.
A low moan rattles out of me, my stomach tightens as his merciless ramming doesn’t slow down. I can’t move, my nails are digging into his shoulders while his hips rock between my legs. He’s pinning me down, chasing his pleasure and using me to do it—like the good sex toy I am. Then his breath quickens, his face turns taut. I lift my face and bite his neck, hard. His roar is almost deafening as thick ropes of cum shoot out deep inside me. I tighten my inner walls, milking him over and over and over—relishing his moans and blissful swears as his fingers dig into my thighs.
This is by far my favorite part, seeing him lose himself in me and his growls of pleasure ringing loudly in my ears. It gives me the feeling of being one hundred percent possessed by him. His trembling, huge, six-foot-three body heaving against mine while he catches his breath. I slide my hands down over his back, stroking along the muscles there with one hand and buryingthe other in his hair. It’s so soft and long now. He shivers in response as if my touch is enough to make him weak, and thrusts into me one last time, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
“Art,” he says softly on my skin. I close my eyes and let myself sink into him just as he’s doing with me.
I’m floating on cloud nine. My head is foggy with pleasure when he whispers possessively, “Get back here,” thrusting me onto his cock.
I chuckle—when did I move?
My hole feels so damn sore I’ll need a truckload of ointment later, but I can’t stop smiling. I fiddle with the ends of his hair. The sticky droplets of cum pool against my abs and mat into my belly hair. Ugh, I need a shower.
“Don’t ever let me forget how good you feel inside me again,” I tell him when he lifts his head to look at me. I give him a quick kiss, then close my eyes and sigh.
“Never again,” I think I hear him say. It makes me look at him again.
“Hurts?” he asks, lifting the pendant from the chain around my neck and kissing it, like he does every day. He told me it’s his way of remembering his parents. I love it because it shows me a sweet side of him.
“No, I think my ass is going numb now after all the fucking.”
“Only your ass?” He pulls hard on one of my abused nipples, making me whimper. I grab his hand and give it a bite.
“Fuck!” He glares at me, and I smirk back, earning a slap on my hip.
“Is that cock of yours going down anytime soon?” I ask as he’s fucking into me with lazy, long thrusts. My boyfriend’s stamina is amazing, if not exhausting.
“I wanted you drenched in my juice for four long days, now I’m enjoying my hard work.” He moans, continuing the slow fucking. The sounds he is making are so damn sexy, my mind turns blank. He is such a thug—dominating, possessive, controlling—I fucking love it all.
“We are far from finished, still need to fuck more sense into you,” he suddenly declares, and keeping his dick inside, he pulls us off the sofa and walks toward the bathroom.
With every step, his national treasure is going internationally, discovering new lands inside me as it goes deeper. But I can’t be distracted, I need to clear something up, right now.
“Luca Nero, I was yours way before your stubborn self became mine.” I pull on his chest hair to emphasize my words. “I’ll never leave you again. You know why? Because I refuse to have another single night without you. I belong in your hot, sweaty arms when I’m asleep. And if you are so afraid I’ll flee, you can always tie me up.” I offer both my wrists to him.
He hums. His serious-looking face drowns in lust while his eyes grow darker, giving off a magnetic air I’m inexorably pulled to. He slaps my ass, making me jerk as his cockhead hits my very sensitive prostate.
“Is that a giant cookie on the kitchen island?” he suddenly asks, resuming his steps.
I hum. “To celebrate our one-month anniversary, baby.”
He halts and turns his head to look at it again. I made the baker writeHappy Anniversary Mobster of my Hearton it with pink frosting.
“A corner is eaten,” he states, but I can feel the smile on his lips as he kisses my forehead.
“You were late,” I say, the first excuse that pops into my head.
“I was ten minutes early,” he counters. Fuck. “A punishment is well overdue. Tying your hands won’t be enough.”
“But I got the cookie,” I weakly fight back. So weakly.
The next morning, I lay my chin on his pec, smiling at him as he eats apple slices and feeds them to me. We are naked in bed, just enjoying the sex afterglow with some fruit.
When we have sex, his chest is hard and strong, but in moments like this, it feels snug and safe. It makes my body relax, and my heart synchronizes with his. He’s playing with the chain around my neck. The saint pendant pressed between us.
It’s like God felt bad for me, so she gathered up all the love I was never given, wrapped it in flesh and bone, and sent Luca to me—adding an extra dose of roughness and dominance to the massively well-endowed thug.
He feeds me another slice of apple, and I drop half over the edge of the bed, where Nacho is waiting patiently—humping Luca’s duffel bag.