Page 32 of Dirty Mafia Torment
“Tell me what you think you want.”
“What I want is to bleed all over you and the backseat.”
His lips flatten, his eyes narrowing. “This about revenge?”
“At first, maybe.” I soften, though my pulse still riots. “But now it’s about me, and you.”
The scowl that follows cuts deep, and for a moment I’m sure he’ll spring away and leave me empty. It’s a well-known fact he’s not commitment material. The memory of a social media post I once read resurfaces: Lover of many, boyfriend of none.
Why would I be any different?
Something flickers in his gaze, something raw and unguarded, before he growls, “Fuck it.” His mouth crashes onto mine, brutal andconsuming, but beneath the violence I taste his hunger, his commitment to this moment.
And right now, it’s all I need.
His tongue thrusts deep, demanding and punishing, yet desperate too, like he can’t decide if he wants to ruin me or save himself.
I gasp into him, reckless with a dangerous, desperate need.
“No,” I murmur when he withdraws.
Then I catch his expression, and everything stills. Every wicked thing he’s thinking is there for me to see. His charm. His possessiveness. And as his eyes harden, even the darker side ready to destroy me.
Eyes locked on mine, he licks two fingers, then positions them and drives home.
I raise my hips as far as the rope allows, offering him deeper access.
He increases the pressure, and I see stars.
“You’re fucking perfect, you know that?” he grinds out. “Beautifully twisted in all the right ways.”
My eyes widen as pleasure crashes through me like thunder.
His gaze darkens, startling me with its intensity. “Goddamn it. I need another taste first.”
I whimper when he pulls away, my body aching at the sudden loss. He bites his lower lip while adjusting the ropes around me, spreading my thighs wider. When he’s satisfied, a dangerous smile curves his mouth. “Nothing between me and you now.”
He pushes me back across the seat, his head lowering between my thighs.
Then the true assault begins.
I read about this. Imagined him there, devouring me. But none of my fantasies prepared me for the reality of his mouth on me.
His tongue is relentless, possessive, unrestrained. He licks, dives, explores every aching inch of my pussy until I am gasping. “Oh,” bursts from my lips, followed by a ragged, “Oh, yes.”
He pauses long enough to catch my clit between his teeth. The sharp pinch makes me cry out, but he soothes it away with his tongue, easing the sting. Is this a warning of what’s to come? Or the price of surrendering to such a dangerously sinful man?
My second orgasm strikes quickly, faster than I can brace for, stealing my breath. I throw my head back with a moan as he works me through it, merciless and masterful, leaving me trembling beneath his mouth.
“That was for you,” he informs me, rolling to his knees as he stares down at me, his lips, mouth, chin coated in my wetness. He slaps my pussy, and the fog from my orgasm clears. Another slap, and he has my complete attention.
My eyes drop to the hand squeezing his dick.
I’m struck speechless at the sight. His dick’s gorgeous. Long and thick, the head perfectly symmetrical and flushed with blood. It’s pretty like the rest of him. Too pretty for the punishment he puts it through.
“That’s right. Look your fill. Know what’s about to break open your perfect pussy.”
A low hum slips from my throat.
