Page 65 of Steal My Heart
Iclickmy tongue. “That heavy hand.”
“And you love it around your throat.” He snakes that hand to where it’s now around my neck, squeezing harder than he usually does. Ishouldbe panicked, but the truth is I do love it. “Now, are you going to be a good girl and come on my cock?” He grabs a pillow.
My eyes wide, I blurt out, “While I like your hand around my neck, suffocation doesn’t do it for me!”
“Nor does necrophilia ‘do it’ for me,” he retorts dryly. His large hand grips my waist and lifts me, shoving the pillow beneath my pelvis with his other hand. “What will do it for me is your sweet little pussy strangling my cock when you come.”
Any sort of witty comeback escapes me, along with my breath, as he thrusts forward and hits a toe-curling spot.
“No man has ever taken care of you.” It’s not a question, but a statement of fact.
One I can’t deny, yet the words still cut like a knife.
“I’m here to rectify that crime,” he continues.
Rectify, or commit more crimes? Because the only crime would be if I were to fall for this man’s pretty words…
Just sex. This is just sex.
Angelo snakes his palm to my clit, giving it a firm smack.
“Oww.”
“You’re in that pretty little head of yours again.”
“Where else would I be? It’s an interesting place, my head,” I say defensively.
“No doubt,” he says, his voice laced with humor. “But I want you right here with me.” He punctuates that command with the roll of his hips.
“Oh.” A surprised moan escapes my lips when Angelo’s cock hits a deeper spot.
“There it is,” he murmurs, hitting it again and again.
The muscles in his forearm bulge in protest at holding himself up, and I decided this man is far too sexy for his own good. Craning my neck, I run my tongue along the most prominent of his forearm veins.
Angelo growls, causing my pussy to flutter wildly as he falls to his elbows. My hands are jerked over to my head, held firmly by his as he rocks his body back and forth.
“Oh my God,” I moan with eyes closed, the feel of his pelvis rubbing my clit on each movement; so unbelievably good.
He stills.
Snapping my eyes open, I correct myself with a huff. “Angelo.”
“Better.” He begins rolling his hips again, leaning over, brushing the shell of my ear with his lips. “How many orgasms can I steal from my little pickpocket, hum?”
My pussy clamps around his cock, and his entire body shudders. “Maybe I’ll steal one from you.”
His teeth graze my ear lobe, and my body shudders. “Rob me blind; I’d die a happy man.”
Angelo sets a punishing pace with his hips, and our verbal sparring becomes too much for the both of us.
Panting. Moaning. Writhing. Throbbing. My body feels like a coiled spring, ready to release.
I rake my nails down Angelo’s back.
Little ole me, marking the big, bad mafia boss.
Of all the thoughts, that’s the one that sends me over the edge. My body buckles as I cry out his name, coming so hard little sparks of light dance over my vision.
