Page 64 of Mafia Darling

Another strike, this time across the tops of my thighs. I panted, sweat breaking out all over my body. I couldn’t do this. “Sette,” I whimpered.

“Three more,” he said. “I will make them fast.”

“Wait, please—”

The belt rained down three times in quick succession and I howled. Then the leather hit the floor and Fausto’s mouth was between my legs, eating at me like a man possessed. He tongued my slit, shoved the tip into my entrance, then flicked my clit. His hands held onto my ass, separating my cheeks, and that slight bit of pressure on my sore skin felt delicious, the flesh throbbing and alive. Like he’d brought it to life.

It went on and on, his mouth torturing me in the very best way. He licked everywhere, even the ring of muscle between my cheeks. When my legs began shaking he circled my clit with the flat of his tongue, and the orgasm slammed into me, fiercer than I expected, and I shouted as my body convulsed. Holy fuck. It went on and on, his tongue dragging out the sensations until I sagged onto the bed. My brain floated, every muscle gone liquid.

He stood and then I felt the tip of him, hard and blunt, at my entrance. His cock shoved inside, the wetness easing his way, though it was still a stretch. It took him a few thrusts to get all the way inside, and I sighed at the fullness, the sweet invasion of his body into mine. “Oh, God,” I gasped. “You feel so good.”

Draping over me, he kissed my spine and began speaking a string of Italian my blissed-out brain couldn’t comprehend. But I did understand, “Mi fai impazzire,” something he’d told me before.

“You make me crazy, too,” I said dreamily, reaching behind to grab his ass.

Straightening, he took my arms and folded them behind my back. His grip was punishing as he held onto me, but I didn’t notice. I felt light and airy, my body pliant and filled with sensation. He began fucking me then, punches of his hips that rattled my teeth as he jerked me onto his cock again and again. Then his thumb slid between my ass cheeks and began toying with my hole. I couldn’t even complain because everything he was doing felt so fucking good.

“I think I must reacquaint myself with all your holes,” he said as the digit dove inside. “Would you like that? Your paparino’s cock in your ass again?”

My tongue was thick and awkward, desire making me stupid. I could only nod, craving everything filthy he would give me. There was no reason to pretend I didn’t want it when we both knew I did.

This man was going to be my husband. Holy shit.

He hissed through his teeth when my body clamped down on him. “Cazzo. Yes, squeeze my dick again.”

I did it once more and he groaned. “You are trying to make me come, no? Because it is working.”

When I did it a third time he smacked my butt cheek and pulled out. Limp, I couldn’t do more than roll my head to watch him reach into the drawer beside the bed and retrieve a bottle of lube. He popped the cap and poured a generous amount in his hand before jacking himself, coating his cock and making it slippery. I watched the muscles of his forearm shift as he worked, and whoa, that was hot. I made a mental note to request a video of him masturbating soon.

Moving behind me, he drizzled liquid down my crack and massaged it into my hole. “I want you to ride me. I want to see your face when I claim your ass again.”

Fausto got into position on the bed, flat on his back, then lifted me over him until I straddled his hips. Bringing me toward his face, he kissed me hard, his tongue invading my mouth and letting me taste his desperation. The tips of his fingers probed the tight ring of muscle, smoothing, massaging, opening me. Eager, I rolled my hips, dragging my mound over his shaft.

“So needy,” he murmured against my mouth when I whimpered. “Don’t worry, little girl. I am going to fill you up.”

His fingers slipped inside, but there was only pressure. It was as if the pain receptors in my body were on vacation at the moment, and the pleasure center of my brain was firmly in charge. He pumped his hand slowly, widening me, while his mouth remained demanding. I took it gladly, letting him use me. I would always be his puttanella, even with a ring on my finger.

He broke off and grabbed my hips. “Up, piccolina. Take me inside.”

I braced one hand on his stomach, then reached with the other to take his thick cock, lining him up at my back entrance. His warm skin was slick and hard, and I began pushing down, hissing when the head slipped in. He threw his head back, his expression nearly feral in its intensity, and I loved watching this powerful man come undone by my body. By our connection. I dropped down a little more, gave myself time to adjust, then continued, working steadily, with Fausto’s big chest heaving the entire time. His fingertips sank into my skin, pressing on my hip bones and I knew I would have bruises there tomorrow.

The thought sent a punch of arousal through my middle and I lowered my hips all the way down, meeting his pelvis. God, it felt so good, my sore ass rubbing against his rough skin. The width of him split me open and I panted, loving the way he overwhelmed me. Loving him, period. “Baby,” I whispered, hoping he understood.

He knew. Of course he did. No one could read me better than Fausto.

He cupped my breasts with both hands, pinching my nipples. “Tell me, gorgeous girl. Ride me and tell me. Don’t hold anything back from me.”

I began moving then, churning my hips slowly, dragging his shaft in and out of my ass, all the while watching his face. His eyes burned hot as they raked over my body, possession stamped on his features, and I let the words fall out. “Ti amo, bello.”

His reaction was instant. Snatching me in his big hands, he leaned up and brought me to him for a blistering kiss. Then he braced his feet on the mattress and began pounding into me, his body thrusting upward in short jabs that bounced my tits up and down. His hands kept my hips steady, our bodies straining and working together. Whatever spot he was hitting deep inside me sent sparks down my legs, along my spine, sending me higher and higher.

When I started trembling, he said, “Your clit, dolcezza. Play with it and make yourself come. Right now.”

I didn’t question him. My hand flew between my legs and I rubbed my swollen flesh, desperate for release. The rush was instant, a wave of color and light that exploded behind my eyes. My muscles contracted around him, clamping down, and I heard Fausto grunt as his movements became uncoordinated. Then he held me still, his back arching, as his cock pulsed in my ass, hot jets filling me. God, he was sexy as fuck.

And he was mine.

“Madre di Dio,” he panted. “I hadn’t expected you to say that.” He pulled me down to lay on top of him and wrapped his arms around me, his cock still buried in my backside. He kissed the top of my head. “I do not deserve you, amore.”

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