Page 96 of The Crowned Garza
He looks utterly ruined. Repentant, yet remorseless.
“Saint…” My voice cracks, heart standing still. “Why?”
With a soothing sigh, he dusts his lips against mine. “It was always going to be you.”
“What do you—Mhhmmnn...”
A whimpered moan rolls up my throat when he flexes his hips. Effectively shutting me up.
Slow and careful, he draws back and thrusts in again and again… Pleasure’s etched in every line of his face, and…is he shaking? Or is that me?
“Fuuuck,” he groans, and this time the shudder that runs through him is strong and unmistakable. “This is... I didn’t think... I don’t…” He flexes and thrusts forward again. “Ahhh,fuckkk.”
I bring my hands down to his neck, sweeping my thumbs back and forth along his jawline. “It’s okay, you can take your time.”
Another shudder rolls through him and he buries his face in the curve of my neck. “Tillie, I…”
His cock feels so damn good inside me that despite his struggle to adjust to this new level of pleasure, I can’t help undulating my hips, which apparently isn’t making things any less intense for him.
His fingers dig into my thighs, his voice strained and tight as he begs, “No, don’t move... I don’t think I can... Nhmmnnhfuck.”
“I can’t, you feel too good inside me,” I whisper, my voice swathed in greedy lust, selfish desire and impatience. “Your cock fills me up so perfectly. It’s too big and thick and hard for me to stay still. I love it, I love it, I—”
“Tillie, stop. Please.Gesù Cristo. I’ve never...”
When he takes the chance and rocks into me again, then tentatively again and again, I whisper against his ear, “Don’t worry about me,capo. Just enjoy this. Just let yourself feel it. Feel my greedy pussy squeeze you in. Feel how wet and juicy I am for your stiff cock. Be selfish. Take all you want from me and feelgoodfor me, Don Luciani. Feel good for me.”
At that, he lifts his face from my neck, grips my hips to steady me, and slams into me with purpose this time, lust-filled eyes locked on mine. Caution to the wind, he fucks me with long, precise strokes, shudders washing over him at random intervals.
To see him this overcome with pleasure, to witness him feel whatever he’s feeling for the first time and know I’m the cause of it… This is the hottest experience I’ve ever had.
Try as I might to be a good girl and stay still for him, it’s impossible. He feelstoodamn goodinside me. Bracing my hands on the counter, I rock my hips, meeting his thrusts, elevating the experience, and chasing pleasure along with him.
As if to scold me, he leans in and bites my bottom lip, watching me through heavily lidded eyes.
This man has given himself to me. He’s given me something important to him. And I believe him now. I believe that I’m hispiccola regina. His little queen.
On the heel of that thought, I release all restraint and let my orgasm flood in like a deluge. My toes curl as my body jerks in staccato at the ultimate height of gratification.
Lips parted, Saint watches me come, watches me succumb to the pleasure he gave me.
“Bellissima,” he whispers with reverence, as if in prayer.
His grip on me tightens. He pounds into me. Relentlessly.
A deep, guttural groan reverberates through him and he stiffens, buries his face in my hair, and finds his release.
We remain like that for some time while he dwells in the aftermath of his decision. I curl my fingers in his hair, massage his scalp, and listen to his breaths decelerate to normal.
When he finally lifts his head, he bumps his forehead to mine. “I’m sorry...”
“For what?”
“For doing it like this… Losing control… For not…lasting longer.”
He’s so boyishly vulnerable in this moment, it’s taking everything in me not to pinch his cheeks for being so cute.
“Do I look dissatisfied? I came before you.” Lightly, I scrape my nails down the back of his neck. “You could’ve lasted thirty seconds and it would still be the best I’ve ever had. Because it’s with you.”
