Chapter 137
The heat between us was unbearable.
I could feel him hard, heavy, hot against me. My cock throbbed in response, aching now. Desperate.
He rolled me onto my back, mouth never leaving mine as he settled between my legs. The grind of his hips against mine sent a jolt of raw pleasure through me, and I arched into him, panting now.
“Fuck,” I whispered. “Please…”
His hand slid down between us, fingers wrapping around both of us my cock and his, stroking us together. The slick drag of his hand made me cry out, hips jerking. It was too much. Not enough.
“God, you feel good,” he murmured against my neck. His teeth grazed the skin there, followed by his tongue. I was trembling.
I reached for the nightstand blindly, fingers fumbling until I found the lube. When I pressed it into his hand, our eyes met. I didn’t have to say it.
He already knew.
He kissed me soft, almost reverent before sliding down between my legs. I spread them willingly, wantonly. I wasn’t shy. Not anymore. Not with
him.
His slick fingers pressed between my cheeks, finding me with a slowness that bordered on torture. He circled first, teasing, coaxing, then slowly, so slowly, slipped inside.
When Alessandro’s manhood was fully inside of me, I felt like I had entered another universe. I groaned and buried my face in his shoulder. He was honestly so fucking big.
“Is this okay?” Alessandro asked roughly, making my heart skip a beat.
“Do you want me to stop?”
Alessandro… he never used to ask, but I was liking the new him, This side of him felt like the real him like he wasn’t holding back anymore and was finally showing me who he truly was.
I nodded my head and gripped his shoulder as my legs wrapped around his waist, giving me a clear view of his large member inside of me, and the bulge in my stomach from just how big he was.
Alessandro looked so vulnerable on top of me, like he was second–guessing his actions. And I didn’t know why, but it made me feel like he was starting to regret coming here something about his face and the way he looked at me.
Fuck, did he regret it?
I reached out and touched his face, making him close his eyes almost like my touch pained him.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.” I spoke in a low/voice.
“I’m trying to be gentle, he murmured, his voice tight, strained. “But that’s not me“,
“Then don’t,” I whispered. “Don’t hold back with me“.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for, he said, then pushed his dick into me and I saw stars immediately.
I gasped, no, choked on the sudden, overwhelming force of him. My body arched without permission, my hands flying up to claw at his
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shoulders as my vision blurred with white hot pleasure.
“Take it,” Alessandro snarled, his hand sliding up my throat, not squeezing, just holding possessive. Commanding. “You said you wanted all of me. So take every fucking inch.”
He didn’t give me a chance to respond. His hips snapped forward again, sharp and punishing, each thrust hitting deeper, harder, like he was trying to break something open inside me. And maybe he was because I could feel myself unraveling, coming apart under the weight of him.
He gripped my wrists and pinned them above my head with one hand, his body caging mine completely, driving into me like he owned me, like he was claiming me.
“Look at me,” he growled into my ear. “I want to see your face while I ruin you.”
And I did. I looked at him at the wild, dangerous heat in his eyes and I wasn’t scared. I was hungry for it. For him.
“Don’t stop,” I gasped. “Don’t fucking stop.” I clutched at his back, nails digging in.
“Never,” he growled, voice wrecked.
I wanted him inside me forever. Claiming me. Filling me. Ruining me.
His hand wrapped around my cock again, pumping me in time with his thrusts. I was already close. Too close.
My body went taut, pleasure coiling so tight I couldn’t hold it.
“I’m–fuck, I’m gonna-” I barely got the words out before I was coming, hard, all over his chest and stomach, crying out his name as my body shook.
He followed with a low groan, thrusting deep one last time as he spilled inside me, shuddering through it, face buried in my neck.
For a long moment, all I could hear was our breath. Our heartbeats. We were slick with sweat and come, tangled together like there was nothing else in the world.
And maybe there wasn’t.
I needed him again.
I reached for him before I even caught my breath, my hands roaming over his back, desperate to keep him close. He pulled back just enough to look down at me, his hair damp, his lips parted, eyes still wild with everything we’d just done.
“You’re insatiable,” he said, voice low.
“Only with you,” I whispered, already arching into him, already aching for the next wave.
He didn’t smile. Instead, he grabbed my hips, hard, and flipped me that I was on my knees, hands braced against the bed, still trembling from the last orgasm.
He slammed back into me in one brutal thrust that made me cry out, the sound punched from my lungs. My fingers clawed at the sheets, head dropping forward as he filled me again, deeper/this time, rougher.
He set a punishing rhythm, his grip bruising on my hips as he drove into me over and over, each thrust sending shocks of pleasure tearing through my already oversensitive body. I could feel him everywhere, his breath, his heat, the sharp sting of skin against skin as he used me, claimed me, owned me.
“You feel that?” he gritted out, leaning over me, his chest slick against my back, one hand sliding up to wrap around my throat. “That’s mine.”
“Y–yeah,” I choked out, barely able to speak, lost in the overwhelming stretch and pressure and heat.
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“No,” he growled, biting down against my shoulder hard enough to make me gasp. “Say it. Say who you belong to.”
“You, I moaned, voice breaking. I belong to you.”
His thrusts got even rougher, more erratic, his control slipping as he chased the edge again, dragging me with him, helpless, writhing. completely at his mercy.
And I never wanted him to stop.
