Page 10 of Sinfully Savage Mafia

On second thought, fuck that.

I want to stay in it forever.

I grip the silky sheets in my fists, tugging tight as the orgasm zaps my insides. It’s a fight to keep from screaming but that’s what this whole party is about.

Control over emotion will be rewarded.

The man’s lips, tongue, and teeth work hard to keep me dangling over the edge of sanity until he finally pulls away, satisfied with my body’s reaction to him.

I stare in the direction of where I imagine his face would be, conjuring up images of how he might look. His self-assured attitude, command of my body, and deliciously rough touch would make him tall and domineering. A powerful man who knows what he wants as well as how to get it.

He leans closer, his breath hot against my torso as his lips trail a path toward my neck. A tiny mewl escapes my lips when he slips his tongue around the back of my ear. I fumble with the buttons on his shirt, tugging them open as quickly as possible so I can feel his bare skin against mine.

I finally slide the shirt off of his broad shoulders. My breath hitches when I run my hands down the front of his thickly muscled chest. Cuts of muscle I want to trace over with my tongue, a brush of hair that tickles my skin when he presses against me. I bet he has tattoos, too. A guy like this definitely would be badass enough to have lots of ink.

I stare into the darkness then raise one hand to his face. I slide my fingertips down the side of his chiseled jaw as it tightens. God, I wish I could see his eyes bore into me. A dark, piercing, penetrating gaze that would pin me to the spot and melt under his heated stare.

When his lips capture mine in the most soul-searing kiss, I practically swoon. I press my hand to the back of his head and lace my fingers in his thick hair. Our teeth crack against each other, our lips crush together, tongues rough coiling heat.

His metal belt buckle jingles.

Holy shit. This is really happening.

More rustling of fabric follows until something…and mother of God, is it ever something…grazes my pussy lips.

“Condom,” I say in a choked whisper.

He places a finger over my lips and just as I’m about to smack it away, a plastic package crinkles. I breathe out a sigh of relief. This whole thing could not be more crazy, and the last thing I want is to pee on a stick in six weeks and see the damn thing turn colors.

My legs fall open, my pussy clenched with need. He trails his fingers down the sides of my torso until they rest on my hips. Then he flips me over so suddenly, I gasp before my face plants into the mattress. He loops an arm under my stomach and forces my hips to pike in the air. He grasps my ass cheeks, spreading them as he nips at the flesh.

Then a sharp sting makes my cry out. He spanks me again, hard, and I grit my teeth to prevent another yelp from shattering the silence. Then he licks the spot where he branded me with his palm, so gently, so unlike the lashing. He grazes my pussy with his fingers, sliding them in and out of my wet heat before smacking me again.

Over and over, he makes my body submit to his predatory games until I whimper for his cock. I didn’t mean to, the plea just slipped out. But my body is crackling with pent-up need and I want to feel him sink deep inside of me.

He lifts me onto my knees and thrusts into me before pulling me back against him. Oh, holy fuck. I want to cry out, to scream, to laugh because the pleasure from barely a few thrusts is almost too much. His long, thick cock stretches me wide. He keeps an arm flung in front of my chest so that our bodies rock together, connected in the most intimate way possible.

Each push and pull of his cock drags against my clit. I clench him tight with the need to feel every inch of him move inside of me. Every time I bounce on his dick, he comes closer and closer to hitting my spot until tingles in my belly erupt, fireworks explode, and sparks ignite into a raging inferno that roars through me and blanks out my brain.

Our bodies slap together. His fingers work my clit as his cock fucks me senseless to the point where I can’t remember my own name. I’ve never met anyone with such complete control over my body, mind, and soul at the same time. He grips my hips, circling them over his cock. We grind together for what must be the longest orgasm in the history of orgasms. They usually last for a few blissful seconds, if I’m lucky enough to have one without faking it.

But this man knows how to drag them out so that you almost forget what it’s like to not be riding that euphoric high.

Whoever this man is, it’s like he knows me inside and out. Like he’s completely in touch with what I need, what I want, and how he can give it to me.

And he has, over and over again.

For the rest of our time together, he fucks me like I’m a porn star and doesn’t let himself come until I fall apart in his arms, my body completely spent and sated. He never makes a sound. The only tell is him shuddering against me, long, his raspy breaths hitting my skin.

We lie together in silence. I mentally catalog every single second of his erotic assault on my body as my breathing slows and the reality of what lies outside that door hovers.

If I haven’t told Molly today, she needs to hear how very much I love her. She found this place because she knew coming in here and letting go of my inhibitions would empower me to finally let go and have fun for the first time in…God, as long as I can remember.

It was amazing.

Incredible.

And so freeing.

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