Page 90 of My Dark Fairy Tale
I was as limp and pliant as kneaded dough for the next orgasm, the one I wasn’t sure I could take but Raffa insisted I needed.
“I want you to feel every inch of me as I push into your cunt for the first time,” he told me, ruthlessly pressing two fingers into the front of my pussy and rubbing at a spot that made me see stars across the pretwilight sky. “I want you to shiver and shudder with every press. I want you shaking and ready to come the moment I am seated to the root inside you.”
“God, Raffa, yes,” I moaned, my mind lost to the currents of lust, embarrassment left behind on the banks somewhere like my discardedclothes. “I need to feel you stretch me open. I’ve been dreaming of it for days. Please, please, please.”
“La mia dolce cerbiatta,” he murmured before he lightly flicked his tongue over my highly sensitized clit with just enough pleasure to take me gently over the edge, pulling this orgasm out of me in sweet, pulsing strokes.
He bit and sucked a mark into each inner thigh to count off each orgasm.
I was still gasping from the aftershocks when he covered me with his sun-hot body, his cock a searing brand as it smeared through the wetness between my thighs.
“So swollen and wet,” he murmured, peering between us as he fisted his cock and stroked it through my folds. “It will be hard to take me, but I want you to have every inch.”
“Yes,” I agreed, clutching at him, then raking my nails down his back in an effort to bring him even closer, though his lightly furred chest was already tight to my breasts. “I want to be impaled on you.”
He groaned, dropped his head, and said through gritted teeth, “I want to be rough with you.”
“Yes,” I hissed.
“I want to fuck you so hard and so often you will feel me every day for the rest of the time we have together. The echo of me inside you when we are apart, aching to be filled up again.”
“Fuck,yes,” I cried as he slotted the head of his wide cock at my entrance and thrust, one smooth, hard glide.
I was too swollen, still too untried, to take all of him in one, but I loved the sensation of him working me open, pulling back and then pulsing forward inch by inch until I could feel his balls pressed to my wet pussy.
“There,” he said, triumph rich in his voice, arms wrapped around my torso so I felt utterly consumed by him. “Il mio posto felice.”
My happy place.
His words tied all the pleasure oversaturating my body into bows around my heart, the one I wanted so desperately to carve out of my chest and hand to him.
Before I could say anything, though, he was lifting me, sitting back on his heels so that I was balanced entirely in his lap, one of his hands braced at the curve of my spine to keep me upright and the other twisting my wet hair into a rope to use as reins.
“Hold on,” he warned me before he started thrusting up into me as he simultaneously brought me down using his hold on my back and hair.
Stars exploded behind my eyes, the edge of painful newness eclipsed by the white-bright orgasm already sparking low in my gut. He fucked me on his cock like I was a doll, and I could not believe I had ever objected to the idea because it was the hottest moment of my life. His olive-tanned skin was sheened with sweat and corded with muscle like that of an old warrior from ancient Rome, his legs and arms flexing with tension as he brought me up and down over his dick. The riot of his drying waves had flopped over his forehead into his pale-brown eyes, which were locked on mine without wavering.
“Cerbiatta mia,” he grunted as I ground down on his upstroke, using the roughness of his pubic hair to rub against my clit. “La mia donna. La mia stella cadente.”
My little fawn. My woman. My shooting star.
I cried out his name over and over, lost to the vast ocean of his sensation, anchored only by his thick cock inside me and his name carved like an ancient secret into the roof of my mouth.
“Raffa,” I sang as I came again, arching in his hold so he had to fight to keep me pinned, grunting as he chased his own orgasm inside me and then cursing in Italian as he came seconds later.
I could feel the heat of him and the kick of his cock as it wrung every last ounce of feeling from my body until I lay limp and utterly used in his arms, head to his shoulder, regaining my breath my only focus.
“Meus Rex Infernus,” I murmured against his salty shoulder as he stroked my hair and settled back on his ass to stretch out his legs and hold me close.
It felt right to call him that.
My king below.
Below my skin and muscle and bones through to whatever made up the human soul.
“Thank you,” he said in a raw voice after a long moment. “For the best gift I have ever had.”
My laugh was breathless. “I think it’s me who should be thanking you. I gave you one, you gave me five.”
