Page 46 of Twisted Devotion

“Won’t you take off your clothes?” I whisper, my voice thick with need.

He doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, his mouth trails lower, finding my breasts. His lips close around one of my sensitive peaks, sucking and biting playfully, sending jolts of electricity through my body. My back arches off the bed as I thrash beneath him, panting, helpless to the sensations he’s pulling from me. His tongue—hot, wet, and insistent—teases me in ways I didn’t know were possible.

I pray silently to every god of lust and desire, hoping he doesn’t drag this out. I don’t want teasing. I don’t want foreplay. As much as I know his tongue could drive me insane with pleasure, it’s not what I crave.

I want him. His cock. Buried deep inside me, pushing everything else out of my mind until there’s nothing left but the two of us and the raw, primal pleasure of being together.

His fingers find my clit, circling it with maddening precision before sliding lower. He doesn’t push inside—not yet—but the heat of his touch against my soaked core is enough to make my breath hitch. I’m so wet, so fucking wet, and it has nothing to do with the hot shower I just stepped out of.

My hips buck forward instinctively, silently begging him to take me, to end his delicious torment. But he doesn’t. He keeps teasing, keeps circling, keeps driving me closer to the edge without letting me fall.

Tears prick the corners of my eyes. I don’t know why I’m so emotional—so desperate for him to fuck me.

Is it the shock of what I saw earlier? Is it the need to lose myself, to drown in him and forget everything else?

I refuse to let my mind wander and think about anything except the man above me and how much I need him right now.

Nicolas’s hands grasp my ass, kneading it firmly, and I groan in response. My own hands fumble at the hem of his shirt, yanking it up in a frantic attempt to feel his skin against mine.

“Fine,” he grins, his voice low and full of heat. “Undress me,Bambina.”

He doesn’t need to say another word. I grab the hem of his shirt and lift it over his head, my hands trembling as I unhook his pants and pull down the zip. He helps me strip him of his pants and briefs, and when he’s finally bare beneath me, I freeze.

Fuck me.

He’s a glorious sight. His cock is bigger than I imagined—thick, hard, and intimidating in the best possible way. My pussy clenches eagerly, a fresh wave of heat pooling between my thighs; I know there’ll be pain, but the ache of need drowns out every other thought.

I want to take him in my mouth, to taste him, but the craving to be filled—to be fucked hard—is stronger.

He flips us over in one fluid motion, and suddenly, I’m on top of him, straddling his hips.

“Fuck me,Bambina,” he growls, his voice rough and full of raw need. His fingers dig into my ass, gripping hard enough that I know it’ll leave marks. I don’t care. I welcome the sting. “Ride me like you wanted to earlier.”

My hand wraps around his hot, thick length as I guide him to my slick, aching entrance. But before I can lower myself onto him slowly, savoring the stretch, he takes control.

He grabs my hips and pulls me down hard, thrusting up to meet me at the same time. The force of it seats him fully inside my pussy in one deep, unrelenting stroke.

A strangled cry rips from my throat, but before the sound can fully escape, he drags me down into a searing, open-mouthed kiss. His tongue claims mine, the intensity mirroring the way he fills me, demanding, consuming, perfect. His hand tangles in my hair, yanking hard enough to sting, and I moan. The pain somehow fuels my pleasure, and I give myself over to it completely. Our tongues slide together, meeting and matching each other with the same rhythm as our bodies. Every thought, every stroke, every movement feels like a shared, unspoken language.

I twist my hips slightly, adjusting the angle so he hits every sensitive spot inside my pussy. Pulling back from the kiss, I plant my hands on his chest to steady myself and begin to move—riding him properly now.

His hands travel upward, capturing my breasts in his palms. His fingers knead and tease, sending shocks of pleasure straight to my core as I move against him, chasing the heat building inside me.

“Fanculo, sei incredible,”he growls, his free hand sliding up to wrap firmly around my neck.

A deep grunt escapes him when I lean in, my lips finding the tender skin of his neck. I suck and nip, marking him with dark, possessive bruises—repaying the favor. His low growl sends a thrill through me, and without warning, he flips us over.

My back hits the mattress, and I don’t even have a moment to catch my breath before Nicolas slams back into me. The force knocks the air from my lungs, and I suck in a shaky breath, a curse tumbling from my lips. He just chuckles—a dark, masculine sound that curls my toes and makes me crave him even more.

That laugh of his should be illegal.

He braces one hand on the bed beside my head, his thick cock pumping into me with a deliberate, unhurried rhythm. My orgasm lurks just out of reach, teasing me cruelly. It flutters at the edges of my senses, just beyond my grasp every time I think I’m close. It’s maddening, infuriating—and I never want it to stop.

Nicolas shifts, hitching one of my knees higher and pinning it against the bed with his weight. The angle sends him deeper, reaching places I never knew existed inside me.

“Ah, fuck,” I cry out, my voice breaking as his broad tip brushes against my G-spot. My entire body quakes, pleasure spreading through me in waves. “Yes, fuck yes, Nicolas, don’t stop.”

He hears me—thank all the gods, he hears me—and repeats that same perfect motion again and again. Each stroke pushes me closer to the edge until I finally shatter. My back arches off the bed as I scream into his kiss, my cunt tightening around him with a climax so intense it leaves me trembling. Nicolas slows his thrusts, letting me ride the wave until it passes, giving me just enough time to catch my breath.

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