Page 21 of Raphael
"Fuck, Annie," I groan, setting a steady rhythm. "You feel amazing. So fucking tight around my cock."
She moans in response, her hands traveling from my shoulders to my back, nails leaving marks I'll feel tomorrow. "You're so big," she gasps. "You're stretching me so much."
"I want you to come again," I tell her. "I want to feel you come around my cock."
Chapter 8 - Annie
"I want you to come again," he tells me. "I want to feel you come around my cock."
How is this happening? Yesterday, I was just a college student with bills to pay, interviewing for a nanny position. Now I'm in Raphael's bed, his massive cock buried inside me, my virginity a thing of the past. He's my employer. We barely know each other. This breaks every rule of professionalism, every boundary I should maintain.
And I love it. I've been waiting for this moment forever, saving myself for someone special without really understanding what I was waiting for. Never did I imagine I'd give myself to someone like Raphael—a dangerous, beautiful man with secrets in his eyes and blood on his hands. A man who looks at me like I'm the most precious thing he's ever seen, even while he's fucking me mercilessly.
I know this is probably it. Our first and last time. Why would he want to repeat this? He'll come to his senses tomorrow, remember I'm his son's nanny, create distance between us. I have to give him my all now. Show him how much I want this, make it so good he won't be able to forget.
I pull him toward me, needing to feel the weight of him. His muscular chest rubs against my sensitive nipples, sweat dripping from his hair onto my face. Everything feels otherworldly. The stretch of him inside me, the fullness, the slight burn that's already transforming into pleasure so intense it borders on pain.
"Oh god," I gasp, barely able to control myself. "Raphael, it's—fuck—it's too much."
But it's not too much. It's perfect. I love hearing the obscene gushing noises as he moves inside me, feeling my own juices coating his cock and trickling down to my ass. My breasts bounce with each powerful thrust, and I can't help but grip the sheets beneath me, needing something to anchor me to reality.
His cock presses deeper, impossibly deep, fully buried inside me. I can barely look him in the eyes because mine keep blinking and squinting with pleasure. Instead, I turn my head, moaning directly into his ear.
"More," I beg, the word hardly recognizable. "Please, more."
He responds immediately, thrusting forward faster and deeper. "Fuck, Annie. So tight. So perfect."
The praise washes over me, adding to the building pressure inside. I'm close again already, my pussy clenching around his thickness.
Suddenly he slows down, his muscular arm beside my head keeping him upright while his other hand gently caresses my cheek.
"You've been such a good girl," he says, his voice rough with desire. "Time to turn around. I want to fuck you even deeper now that you're ready for it."
I gulp, my mind a chaotic mess as I process his words. He pulls out slowly, allowing me to turn over. The emptiness is momentary but acute. I already miss the feeling of him inside me.
I position myself on my belly, raising my ass in offering, my face pressed against the cool sheets. Raphael doesn't waste a second, his large hands gripping my ass cheeks, kneading the flesh before delivering a sharp slap to each side.
"Ah!" I cry out, surprised by how good the sting feels. It's a reminder that this is real, not some elaborate fantasy I've conjured in my lonely bed.
He spreads my ass cheeks with his thumbs, exposing everything to his gaze. I should feel embarrassed. No one has ever seen me like this, but instead, I feel powerful, desired.
"Look at you," he growls. "So fucking wet for me. Your pretty little pussy taking my cock like you were made for it."
Without warning, he guides his cock back inside me, the new angle allowing him to reach depths that make me see stars. He thrusts forward, his hips and thighs slapping against my ass as he fucks me without mercy.
The sounds escaping me are primal, too loud for a house where a child sleeps down the hall. I grab the nearest pillow, burying my face in it to stifle my moans and screams. It feels so fucking good I want to shout it to the heavens, but I can't risk waking Marco.
I've touched myself plenty of times over the years, but this—actual sex with an actual man, especially one like Raphael—is completely different. The fullness, the friction, the unpredictability of another person's movements. And most importantly, the connection. The way he whispers how beautiful I am, how good I feel, how perfectly I take him.
"Look at you, taking my cock so well," he praises, one hand reaching beneath me to find my clit. "Such a natural. So fucking perfect."
The dual stimulation is too much. His words, his fingers, his cock hitting something deep inside me… They combine to create a tidal wave of sensation that crashes over me without warning.
"I'm coming!" I cry into the pillow, my entire body convulsing as pleasure explodes through me. My eyes roll back, my toescurl, and my pussy clamps down on his length with a force that surprises even me.
But Raphael doesn't stop. He slows momentarily, letting me ride out the orgasm, then resumes his relentless pace. He lowers himself onto my back, his chest pressed against me, his weight delicious and grounding.
He grunts in my ear, his hips still pumping. "Fuck, Annie. I won't be able to control myself around you now. Not after feeling how perfect your tight little pussy feels around my cock."
