Page 44 of The Mafia's Captive

She shakes her head as if ridding herself of something and then galvanizes into removing her own clothes. In no time, we’re both naked and under a torrent of warm water. My hands move to her body on their own. I had no idea how much I had missed her until now. I draw her closer to me and let my hands slide down her silky-smooth skin. She feels like heaven. Her hands imitate mine as they roam from my shoulders and slide down my chest. Her touch ignites tiny sparks of electricity inside me.

“You have a beautiful chest,” she says when her hands touch my nipples.

I cup her breasts. “So do you.”

She laughs and then hisses when I flick one nipple and then the other. I want to play with her nice and slowly this time around. Not like the rube I was last time when I basically fucked her like an artless caveman. I remove my hands away from her chest and she moans in disappointment. She cries again when I take the scrub to them and stroke each nipple with it. Her hands move down my chest to my groin where a hard cock is waiting. She grasps it. I moan when she rubs the head and then strokes my shaft. Her small hand feels good on me. I want her to feel her mouth again and, as if she read my thoughts, she goes down onto her knees and takes me into her mouth. She licks my cock first and then takes as much of me as she can down her throat. “Fuck.” It takes all of my willpower not to grab her head and hold her right there and then. She draws back almost to the end and looks up at me. My hand caresses her cheek as she sucks me. Her mouth feels like a suction eager to draw my balls empty. And just like last time, she has her hand on her clit. Nothing is more erotic. If I don’t take my dick out of her mouth, I will come down her throat. And I don’t want to do that. I want to come inside her pussy.

I remove her head and draw her to her feet. “I don’t want to come just yet,” I say before kissing her. The taste of my pre-cum on her mouth is heady. My initial idea was to kiss her, get out of the shower and have sex on the bed, but not anymore. I lift her up and plaster against the shower door. She grasps my head and kisses me back just much as I am kissing her. She is too much.

I place my hand on her pussy and insert a finger. She’s just as wet as I thought. I replace my finger with my cock and she moans; her face contorting with pleasure. “God, I had missed you,” I whisper against her lips. She moans in response. I thrust into her pussy like a man demented and, in a way, I think I am. She feels so snug I want to stay inside her forever. When I feel like she’s about to slip, I let her slide down to her feet and spin her around so she’s facing the glass. I enter her again and thrust into her with the same relentless energy.

I open my eyes and I notice something. “Look,” I say into her neck. She opens her eyes. Our carnal act is reflected in the bathroom mirror opposite the shower. Her breasts are pressed up against the steaming glass and they brush up against it with each thrust.

“You feel so good,” she says. My hand goes down to her clit, and I rub it. She leans into me and uses one hand to support herself against the glass. Mine goes over hers. I can feel her orgasm coming and I increase the speed of my thrusts. She screams as she comes like a rocket. I come soon after with a force that renders every part of my body weak. We both collapse to the floor and let the water wash over our bodies and wash the aftermath of our passion.

“That was amazing,” she says after a while. Her voice is shaking with pleasure. I don’t think I have the strength to say anything. Instead, I brush strands of her hair plastered on her face and kiss her. This is what I was waiting for the entire week, and it was only the beginning.

After a while, we both get up and finish showering. I turn the faucet off and dry her body. After that, I dry mine and I take her into my arms and throw her onto the bed.

“What are you…” she goes silent when she feels my mouth on her clit. I eat her up like she’s lunch. In no time, she thrashing on the bed, her hands gripping at the sheets. She comes apart again. There’s something about her orgasming that makes me feel like I’ve achieved some sort of accomplishment each time. Like I have attained an award I want to proudly display. After enjoying the sight of her limbs shaking because of the pleasure I gave her, I get up on the bed and lay next to her.

“Holy shit,” she says when she sees my hard cock, “We’re doing it again?”

“I’m going to fuck you until you’re sore.” I grab her waist and put her on top of me so she’s straddling me. “Unless you don’t want to?” She shakes her head. “Good girl.” I thrust inside her. She sighs and sinks down on my cock. Fuck, I think as her snug pussy clasps my cock, my obsession is never going to end.

15

Idon’t think I’ve ever had this much sex in one day. By the time evening comes, I’ve lost count of the number of times we’ve done it. And that’s not counting all the fooling around we did in-between. Speaking of which, I should probably take note so I can accurately deduct my debt. But I doubt I will be able to keep score. Dante is insatiable. And even though I never thought of myself as such, apparently so am I. I can’t seem to get enough of him. From the moment he took me to the shower, till now, I don’t think I’ve ever been able to think or focus on anything except him. Even as he’s gone and left me alone, I’m still thinking of him. My pussy is sore from all the pounding, but it’s still tingling for more.

“How’s your cheek?” I hear him say as he wheels in a cart filled with food and a bottle of wine on ice.

“I can’t believe you’re asking now after all that sucking I did. But it’s fine. It doesn’t hurt.” Must be all the orgasms.

“Your food is ready,” he says, opening a platter. With nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, he looks like the porn version of a waiter. My stomach rumbles when the smell of the food wafts into my nostrils, making it even more tempting. I might as well put on some clothes so I can eat and get off the bed with that thought in mind when he pauses at my movements and asks, “Where are you going?”

“To the bathroom. To grab my clothes.”

“Sit,” he says as he places the food onto the table in the suite. “No one needs clothes to eat.”

“You say that while you have a towel wrapped around your genitals?” He removes the towel in response and sits down on the chair, naked. “Sit.”

There’s something about his confidence that gives me a boost in esteem. I steel my nerves and stride over to him and sink in the opposite chair. He passes me a well-decorated plate that makes the lamb chop, potatoes and sauce look like an art piece. “It’s tough to eat something so good looking,” I say, adoring the plate.

He looks at me with a fork, a knife on the ready. “Why not? It’s meant to be eaten.”

I wonder if getting served food like this all the time makes you oblivious to the artistry. The more time I spend here, the harder it becomes for me to connect back to my world. It’s hard to remember who you’re with when they are giving you amazing orgasms and delicious food afterward. It lulls one’s brain. I make a resolution. Never to forget or be tempted by the trappings. It could all come crashing down at any moment. I look up at the handsome man opposite me. My captor. The one who’s put me in this position and I find it hard to hate him as much as I used to. There’s something about him, about us, that changed sometime between the punch and now. Is it the sex? It can’t be just that?

“What are you thinking?” I’m caught staring at him and I feel like I’m gawking.

“Nothing,” I say.

“I was thinking of going out tonight.”

“Oh.” Disappointment coming out of nowhere sets in. Was he going to his other women? Or was he attending a function with them? And why did I care? It’s not as if I was one of them, nor did I aspire to be.

“You’re coming with me.” Elation. And immediately I want to slap myself. “You didn’t have to pout,” he adds.

“I wasn’t pouting! I was just surprised that you wanted to go somewhere after just coming back. Aren’t you tired?”

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