Page 22 of Captured By the Mafia Boss
“If you need to, you can stop,” I tell her softly, though if she wanted to I might shatter with disappointment. If she needs more time… I will give her anything she needs.
“No,” she breathes and sinks onto me. “I can’t stop. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to. Maybe I’ll never get enough of you. Perhaps I’ll always want you inside me like this.”
“Yes.” That works for me. If all I do from now until eternity is satisfy her sexually, I’ll be happy.
Another shift and I flex my hips and we’re joined to the hilt, her clit pressing on my pelvic bone, her softness enveloping me. It’s everything I can do to remain still and allow her to become accustomed.
“Does it hurt?” I’m afraid to ask.
“No, it feels…” She closes her eyes for a moment, and I stroke my hand up her back. “Right. Perfect.” She lifts herself off an inch and then sinks down with a soft exhalation.
“Yes.” I grasp her hips, but she needs no encouragement. She’s riding me, slowly at first, then with more confidence. Then with urgency. All that desperation I managed to restrain in both of us has returned, stronger. She’s so fucking gorgeous, taking her satisfaction on my cock. I can’t resist. I bring my thumb to her clit.
The effect is instant.
She moans and begins to shake with the effort of sustaining moving over me, so I thrust from underneath, matching her. Her hands are on my chest now, holding herself off me. The trust implied is as good as the pleasure.
She’s driving me wild, and I don’t know how much more of her innocent seduction I can take. Tension is building in my groin, a demand to not simply orgasm, but stake a claim onmy girl. My other hand finds her nipple and I pinch just hard enough to hurt in the best way.
“Come on my cock, Lia.”
I have no idea if it is my touch on her breast or my request that tips her over, but she pulses around me, head falling forwards. Her hair falls over her shoulders and my hand. I keep up my touches through her orgasm, gentling and shifting so it isn’t too much for her. And eventually, she’s still. Wrecked. So lovely in her debauched pleasure my heart can barely stand it.
I grasp her shoulder and she sinks willingly onto me, and her mouth finds mine. Her kiss is messy and passionate and sweet. She’s not done, and neither am I. She struggles to keep up movement on my cock and though I help, this position doesn’t give us what we need.
“Enough.”
Not breaking our kiss, I flip her over, pulling her under me. I nearly, so nearly, ram straight back into her. But I don’t, despite the compulsion.
“Yes?” I gasp out. Does she need a break? Does it hurt?
She looks up at me, hair splayed on the pillow around her like a dark halo. My avenging angel. She nods.
A slow slide of my body fully into hers again and damn but it’s like coming home after a century, when it’s actually only been seven seconds of me not being completely inside of her. And a lifetime before that.
She grasps my shoulders as I ease into a steady rhythm, aware it’s still her first time. But I can’t help but hook my fingers under her thigh and bring it up. That change of angle, the deeper penetration, makes her moan with delight, her eyelids fluttering.
“Yes, Ethan, anything.” She clutches at me. “More.”
And then I don’t hold back. I pound into her hard and deep. It feels so good my vision blurs, my whole body vibrating. She asked for it, and I’m going to provide. My cock in her sothoroughly, with her fucked so well she’ll never want to leave my bed.
I won’t let her.
“Mine.”
I barely recognise my voice.
She whimpers and clutches at my back. For half a second I wonder if I’m hurting her with this brutal, possessive thrusting into her soft pussy. Nailing her into the mattress. But then her heels are on my buttocks, with me at every stroke, urging me on.
“I’m yours.”
“Gunna fill you up.” My chest is tight with mounting pleasure and tearing with unbearable love.
“Yes.” Her nails dig into my shoulder blades. “Please.”
I can’t stop. Not just because of my body’s imperative, but she won’t let me, her fingers digging in, pulling me deeper. I come with a shout, shooting into her. It wrecks me, and I’m a shuddering, sweating, burst-with-happiness mess. I don’t know my own name, but I know hers.
Olivia.
