Page 21 of His Nephew's Ex
“This is only the beginning,” I whisper, sliding a third finger alongside the first two, stretching her slick channel until her head falls back and her eyes roll.
“I’m dying. I’m...”
“You’re perfect.” I press soft kisses across her belly and mound, punctuating the words with gentle nips and caresses. “Relax into it, stellina. Trust your body to bring you to heights you’ve never known.”
“There’s more?”
Her desperate moan is my undoing. I push my pants down with my free hand, revealing my thick, hard length, desperate to be buried inside her. But not yet. Not until she’s dripping and pliant, melting with pleasure at my hands and mouth.
Returning to her clit, I use every skill I have to push her toward the finish line, drawing her into ecstasy like a composer stringing crescendos together. She grinds against my palm with animal abandon, and the sight of her completely undone—my prim and proper Italiana coming apart against my hand—hums through me like victory and awe wrapped together.
When her body tightens beneath me, I keep moving—removing my hand for just long enough to strip her underwear, leaving her bare and trembling beneath my loving assault. Then my fingers are inside her once more, driving her back to the same pinnacle.
My other hand is on myself now, stroking in rhythm to the motion of her hips, bringing me closer to the edge with each frantic cry that erupts from her lips. Her orgasm rocks her, deep and earth-shattering, and the pleasure that ripples over her face is enough to drag me to the end of my tether.
“Simeone,” she pants, trying to pull away. “I need a second.”
“Too late.” My growl is rough, hungry, vibrating against her. “You’ve crossed a line there’s no coming back from.”
I take her with my mouth, sinking deep into her spiced honey that makes my senses swim. When her climax rocks through her again, her entire body shakes and shudders, thrusting against my tongue with all the grace of a drowning woman.
I can’t hold back anymore. When her pleasure crests, I move above her, finding her entrance and pushing slowly inside with a snarl against her throat. She’s a vice around my throbbing cock, so tight I’m afraid I might hurt her. But she’s writhing with need beneath me, muttering incoherent words that sound like curses and praises.
“Dio mio,” I groan, sliding inside her inch by agonizing inch.
“Does that mean you like it?”
The question catches me off guard, and I laugh, dropping a kiss to the sweaty valley between her breasts.
“Stellina, it means you feel incredible. The most intense thing I’ve experienced in years.” I capture her lips with a satisfied kiss, pausing for a moment with just the tip of myself inside her. “You’re mine now. Possessed. Consumed. Addicted. Mine and only mine. No other man will ever touch you. You got that?”
“No,” she argues, and I suspect her defiance is still more instinct than practicality. “I belong to myself.”
“Really?” I run a hand up her arm, guiding her hand between us. She arches when I position her fingers over her clit, but I don’t let go. Instead, I guide her gentle exploration, swirling my fingertip around her sensitive nerves in rhythm to the thrusting of my cock.
“I will do whatever the fuck I want, Simeone,” she forces out between moans. “I’m a boss bitch, and I—”
Her argument breaks off as another climax takes her, rolling over her features with rapturous intensity. The convulsion of her inner walls brings me with her, the pleasure and constriction too much after watching her lose herself.
I bury myself in her, cock wrapped by her heat, and teeth on her throat, taking everything she offers and giving her everything I’ve got in return. We spiral together, clinging to the edge of the cliff, taking all the ecstasy heaven has to offer.
And then the world crashes to pieces and all that’s left is us, gripping each other with shaky hands and greedy, trembling bodies.
Pure satisfaction hums through my veins, dark and calm and absolute. She gave herself to me tonight. Gave me her trust, her body, her vulnerability. More than that. She gave me her innocence. Allowed me to claim her like the predator I am, let me teach her body to submit to my desires even as her mind rebels.
But the sex isn’t enough. I want more. I want her to be only mine.
“I’m serious,stellina,” I whisper, sounding almost loving. “If you let anyone else touch you, I’ll kill them. Slowly and painfully.”
She’s too boneless with satisfaction to fight, to challenge, to do anything but sigh against me. I suppose, deep down, that’s why I did it right then—lying spent and satiated underneath me, our bodies sticky with sweat.
“Until I say otherwise, you’re mine,” I murmur, tracing my fingertips along the curve of her collarbone. “You better remember that. I’d hate to be forced to teach you a painful lesson,stellina.”
That wakes her up, the way I knew it would. With a hiss, she yanks away, lifting her chin in defiance even though her eyes are shining with apprehension and possibly fear. “And what happens if I no longer want you? Or if I want to have a taste of someone else?”
“My imagination is vast.” My finger touches her cheek. Her eyes lull for a second before snapping open again. Her mouth fallsopen, and she jerks her head away. I smile. “Trust me. You wouldn’t like what my imagination came up with.”
“You’re crazy.” The statement is quiet but the words ring with truth.
