Page 34 of The Italian Reckoning
“Wait—” A single word, and she pulls off my cock with apop, leaving a thin string of saliva connecting my crown with her lower lip. She looks up at me with dark eyes glassy with lust and then slowly licks her lower lip.
“Is it not good?” she asks breathlessly.
My heart aches. How can she think she doesn’t feel good?
Grabbing her by the shoulders, I guide her up from the ground and swap our places. My fingers curl around the waistband of her slacks and tug them down. Sarah catches on a second later and as soon as her slacks are on the ground with her shoes, she’s in my arms with her legs wrapped around my waist and my cock driving against the soft cotton of her panties.
“Fuck,” she gasps, tipping her head back against the brick wall. Her throat is long and bare, teasing me with all the skin I could kiss and mark with my teeth if this damn helmet weren’t in the way. I make do by bumping my helmet lightly against her chin. She tips her head back down and presses her lips to my visor as I pull her panties aside with one hand and thrust into the tight, soaked heat of her pussy.
Sarah arches upward against the wall and slaps one hand over her mouth to muffle the strained cry of pleasure that erupts from her throat. She’s so wet that pride swells in my chest—I’ve never been with a girl who got turned on from sucking my cock before. Another thrust and another two inches slide into her, drawing a long moan from the depths of my throat.
With one arm wrapped around my neck and her other hand over her mouth, Sarah clings on for dear life as I fuck her. My hips pound upward hard and fast, driving my cock into her silken heat. I want to make her feel as good as I feel. I want to drive her to the heights she’s taken me in just a few touches, and every ounce of irritated energy is poured into how hard I fuck her. Each thrust punches noises and sounds past her fingers, each roll of my hips makes her whine, and soon, she’s as flushed and as sweaty as I am.
She claws at my chest and shoves my shirt off my shoulders, then grips so tightly that pain flashes hot down my back.
“Fucking hell!” Sarah whines, shoving her fingers deep into her mouth in an attempt to silence herself further. I almost come on the spot from the sight of it, and it kills me that I can’t kiss heraround those fingers. I fuck her harder, deeper. I keep my arms around her to protect her from the brick as much as I can, and when she reaches orgasm around my cock, I continue to fuck her through it so that every single delicious second of pleasure is savored.
I come not long after with her pussy clenching and rippling around my cock, massaging every last drop of cum from my aching balls.
My mind is silent. My body is happy, singing with the twitches and tingles of pleasure that linger as the post-orgasm haze settles in.
“Holy… shit.” Sarah pants, fogging up my visor when she finally removes her fingers from her mouth.
I want to speak, but something tells me I would just ruin the moment so instead, I ease her down to the ground and lightly massage her hip while she regains her balance. As she leans down to pick up her pants from the ground, something catches my eye.
Across her back and shoulders, amplified by their paleness compared to the flushed pink of her skin, are an array of scars. Some are small and thin, but others are warped and twisted. She straightens up and turns to face me, pulling on her pants and handing me my discarded belt.
“That was…”
Amazing? Hot? Fantastic? Mind-blowing?
“So fucking stupid,” Sarah murmurs.
Oh.
“I don’t even know you. I can’t believe I did that. What the hell came over me?” She pulls her shirt back over her shoulders and as it closes around her body, I spot a few more of those scars along her abdomen.
I’m reaching for her before I can stop myself, but as soon as I touch one of the scars with my fingertips, Sarah recoils awayfrom me as if she’s been struck. She buttons up her shirt quickly and snatches her glasses and coat from the ground.
“I’m sorry,” she says breathlessly. “This was fun, but it shouldn’t have happened. I was just... I’m sorry.”
I can’t stop her when she hurries away toward the mouth of the alley ruffling her hair to try and make herself look more presentable. Maybe I should try harder, but she leaves me with my pants around my ankles, pleasure burning in my veins, and a single question haunting my mind.
What the hell happened to her?
14
SARAH
“Usual?” Bobby greets me with his regular smile when I walk into the cafe the next day, wrapped up in the most comfortable clothes I own. Which, given that they’re leggings and a sweater, they’re not amazing, but I’m not used to taking time off. Especially when it’s forced.
“Actually, can I do something different today?”
Bobby pauses with one hand on a cup and frowns despite his smile. “You never order something different.”
“I know. I’m just feeling…” Shrugging, I deeply inhale the comforting scents of baked goods, coffee, and sweet syrups. “Different. I’m feeling different.”
“Sure, what do you want?”
