Page 32 of Danica's Revenge

Danica kicks off her boots, shimmying out of her pants before climbing onto the table, her top half still fully dressed.Careful not to touch my shoulder, she lowers herself onto my cock.Oh god, she is so wet.

A primal cry roars from my lips as she bounces up and down on my dick, riding me wildly, roughly.I don’t even feel the aching pains, all I feel is her.I’m lost in the depths of her desire, of mine.

“No cumming without permission,” Danica hisses at me, staring deep into my eyes.

“Yes, Mistress,” I moan, pulling her hair loose from its ponytail.It falls wildly around her face.

Danica reaches for her clit, rubbing it fiercely in tandem with her rocking hips.

She ravishes me like the savage I look and feel like, fucking me until I cry her name, pleading with tears in my eyes for her to let me cum.

And when she does, when she finally gives me permission, I explode inside her, everything I’ve pent up over the past few days releasing in a mighty orgasm.She cums seconds later, our fluids mixing in an extended climax, a complete and beautiful mess.

Danica’s panting heavily, so am I.

I gather her in my good arm, hugging her tight, still inside her.Her body heaves up and down with my chest as I try to bring my heart rate down.

“Don’t ever leave me again,” Danica breathes, closing her eyes just for a moment.

“You are my everything.”I mean it.

Danica opens her eyes, stares suspiciously at me, but softens as the sincerity in my eyes echoes my declaration.

I kiss her deeply despite how dry my mouth is.

“Let’s go home, baby.”

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Two Months Later…

Chapter twenty-two

Forever

IlaughuncontrollablyasI watch Dante model his new outfit.

“I look ridiculous,” he smiles, stretching his arms out to display the look fully.

“Yes, you absolutely do.But I love it.”I get up and kiss him happily.“Now show me the Hawaiian shirt.”

“I have never owned clothes like this,” Dante complains as he digs out the bright yellow shirt from the shopping bag.Our shopping trip this morning had been fruitful and we'd returned with bags and bags of holiday-wear for our vacation.Nothing Dante owned was suitable for our island trip.I hadn't noticed until we'd already arrived in Greece.I was donned in my favorite classic one-piece and ready for the ocean.Meanwhile, Dante stood around awkwardly in his denims and a black t-shirt—his idea of “casual.”

I'd thrown on a dress and dragged him to the shop for moreappropriateattire.Not that there was a large selection on the exclusive island.

Dante has to make do with an overly brightly colored assortment of shorts and vests.“Who wears this kind of shit?”Dante asks, inspecting himself in the mirror, scowl on his face.The Hawaiian shirt makes him look way more laid back than he is.I smile, wrapping my arms around him sideways.

“People who have lives and go on holiday.”

“That doesn’t sound like me,” he replies skeptically.

“It does now.This is our new life.”

“I wish we could just leave for good.Just pack up and move somewhere else.Anywhere.I don’t want to risk losing this,” he sighs, kissing the top of my head.

“We can’t leave, darling.You know that.Nobody leaves this business alive, you always tell me.Besides, I don’t want to leave.It’s my home.My family is there, my friends.I don’t want to put them at risk.You know this would never end if we just left.Let’s sort this shit out between the families and make peace once and for all.”

“You’re far too optimistic.But you are right.It can’t go on like this.”

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