Page 76 of Trust Me

He grips my cheeks, pulling my mouth around his cock. “You know I don’t like messes, dolcezza. Clean it up like the dirty slut you are.”

Holy. Fuck.

My core hums at his words, loving them for whatever reason. I happily suck his cock, tasting myself as I lick up the evidence of my orgasm.

“That’s my dirty girl,” he says, his words coated in filth.

He doesn’t let me do it for long, pulling out of my mouth abruptly. He gently pushes me onto my back, crawling between my thighs again where he slides into me much more easily this time.

Elio slaps his hips against mine rapidly, his jaw clenching as he swears under his breath. “Your cunt is fucking made for me. You feel so good, Jasmine.”

It doesn’t take long for another orgasm to build as he begins to stroke my clit. That familiar warm feeling spreads throughout my body as he fucks me into oblivion, taking him right with me as we come at the same time, our moans and yells filling the air.

I feel him spill inside of me, and I gasp at the feeling. It’s nothing like I’ve ever felt before, making me feel like I belong to someone as if he’s officially claimed my body.

His movements slow as we ride out our high, our bodies heaving with each breath. Elio brushes a stray curl off my forehead, replacing it with a kiss. “I’m going to pull out,” he warns me, sitting up as he then pulls out.

I wince, feeling sore now that the high of the pleasure is gone. Something warm spills out of me, and I quickly realize that it’s his cum.

Elio’s eyes are glued to my pussy, watching in fascination. “This is mine.” His voice is rough, his eyes cutting up to mine. “Your cunt has never looked prettier than it does with my cum dripping out of you.”

I blush at his words. “That was fun.” I beam, feeling relaxed and euphoric.

“Hold that thought,” he tells me, standing to go to the washroom and returning with a wet cloth. He gently wipes between my legs, then throws it in the hamper. I go to the washroom next and then return to bed, where he wraps me up in his arms.

I rest my arm across his chest, nuzzling my head in between his neck and shoulder.

“So you’re okay?” he asks, kissing the top of my head. “I got a little carried away there. I didn’t mean to get so rough with you on your first time.”

“I wanted it. I’m pretty sure I begged you.” I laugh, feeling so light. “I’m perfect, okay? A little sore, but that was to be expected.”

Speaking of, I wonder if I bled, instantly feeling embarrassed if I did and if there’s a mess on the bed. The chances are low because of volleyball, as athletes usually tear it due to training, but I still feel uncomfortable if I did.

I attempt to pull away from him, but he nestles me tighter against him. “What’s wrong?”

“Did I…you know, bleed?”

“No, dolcezza, and even if you did, I don’t care. It’s natural and nothing to be embarrassed about,” he reassures me, tilting my chin so that he can press his lips to mine in a soft kiss.

I melt into him, loving how he can be so rough yet so gentle and soft with me. He knows which side of him I need before I do.

Elio then slips out of bed and returns moments later with two plates of apple crumble, making me burst into giggles.

We then proceed to eat in bed, which surprises the hell out of me because of his need to keep things clean. There are crumbs in the bed by the end of our dessert, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He pulls my body close to his and kisses me senselessly.

My heart screams at me, telling me that I love him, and this time, my head doesn’t argue like it has for the past week. This time, it agrees, making my entire body buzz with the knowledge.

I love Elio Mazzo, even when I know I shouldn’t.

Chapter 31

Elio

The next day, I ran practice by myself as Ned had an important faculty meeting to attend for all head coaches.

I didn’t think I’d enjoy it, but I found myself in the zone, my mind empty except for what was right in front of me. It’s moments like those that make me believe I’m right where I need to be.

I still don’t know what I want to do post-graduation. I have the money and the intelligence, and soon, the degree to prove it, but there’s no spark of passion to expand on. I love coaching, but my body is itching for more. I want to find a driving force like playing hockey did.

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