47
The car rocks harder than before, our rhythm quick and rough. The windows fog, but I don’t care. All that matters is the tension building in my core. It’s deep, throbbing, growing with every unforgiving stroke,
That’s my little bird,” he grunts in approval. “My little slut. You’re a slut for my cock, aren’t you?”
“y–yes!” I blurt out. I’ll say whatever he wants me to, so long as lidoesn’t stop.
“Only mine. Nobody else’s.”
“Nobody else’s.” I’m so close, ready to scream again, clutching him with my arms and legs and inside, where my muscles are starting to clench tighter.
“Because nobody… could fuck you like this.” I shake my head, only because it’s true. “Say it,”
“Nobody could… fuck me… like this!! Gianni, oh, shit!”
“Come for me,” he rasps in my ear, grating. “<b>Give </b>me your organ, little bird. Give me what belongs to me.”
I do, for there’s no way to stop it. The breaking of the unbearable tension and all the sweet, blissful sensations that race through me in the aftermath. I shatter like ss, exploding, my entire body trembling.
“Gianni.” I moan his name, my nails biting into his flesh while he continues moving inside me.
“That’s right.” In my daze, I feel his hand taking hold of my throat and turning my face toward his. “Look at me. Look in my eyes.” His strokes deepen, and I catch sight of his clenched teeth before meeting his gaze.
“Tell me,” he growls through his gritted teeth, breathing hard. “Tell me this isn’t real. Tell me what I make you feel isn’t real‘
The aftershocks of my orgasm are still rippling through me. I know he has to feel every pulse of my muscles as he invades me over and over. I can’t lie. This is what he does to me. No matter how I fight, he has a power over my body I can’t ignore or pretend doesn’t exist.
He smirks when I shake my head. “I know you can’t, because you know it’s true.” His thrusts m me against the seat and rock the car forcefully, bouncing us up and down. “What we have is special. It’s more profound than anything you or I could create on our owIL It’s us. Together. I will never, ever stop fighting to make you see it and admit it out <b>loud</b>.”
I won’t I can’t. Even if every crash of our <b>bodies </b>together brings me closer to bliss. Even if I feel more alive when he’s inside the than I do at any other time, ever.
“Tell me,” he grunts between punishing strokes. “Say it. Say what we both know is true.”
I won’t. He will not break me.
Even if I want to give in. There’s a craving deep in my soul, like a day ze that gets stronger each time he buries himself in me. All I want is to give him all of me. He’s who I belong to. Who I belong with.
My nails rake over his shoulders, my legs closing tighter around him<b>, </b>drawing him deeperwithout consciously meaning to. He’s right. My body knows what it needs, and it needs him.
“This tight pussy,” he groans, pounding me harder. So hard 1 whipper–in pain, in <b>pleasure</b><b>, </b>I’m not sure. Both, maybe, and the pain makes the pleasure even more intense. As if I want him to hurt me. I like it. “I’m going toe. Do you think your pussy deserves my cum?
“Yes!” I gasp, digging my nails into his <b>ass</b>.
“Prove it. Make ine believe you deserve ?L
“Please, please!”
“Please… what?” he grits out.
“Please.” 1 <b>lock </b>my legs behind him, holding him in <b>ce</b>. “Please fill me up. Give it to me.
There is no reason for this. It makes no sense. Why do I want this? only know I do. I do so much. His groaning reaches a feverish pitch, hard and fast like his thrusts, and on the final one he drives deep and stays there. A rush of heat follows his deafening roar, and I have no idea why it feels so satisfying to know he’s emptying himself inside me. When he pulls me closer, winding his arms around my back and holding me against his chest–where his heart pounds almost shockingly fast–it feels right. Like I was always meant to be here.
At least until Ie back to my senses. The rush of euphoria dies, and I’m left knowing he got to me again. He broke me down against my will. And I loved it.
Disappointment takes root and spreads through me until I can do nothing but push against his chest with both hands. “Let me go,” i grunt, pushing again, until finally he loosens his grip. Maybe it’s surprise. Maybe he already got what he wants, but either way, he lets go so I can sit up<b>. </b>
“What’s wrong now?” he demands <b>in </b><b>a </b>growl, still hovering possesively over me while I try to pull myself together.
“We shouldn’t have done <b>that</b>.”
“ording to whom?” He runs a hand over my hair, clicking his tongue. “Will you ever stop denying yourself what you want? Who cares what the rest of the world thinks, or if it’s right or wEOT
It isn’t the rest of <b>the </b>world I care about. It’s the fact that I just begged the man who might have killed my mother toe inside me I don’t know who I am anymore. I don’t know how to feel.
Stroking my hair, he murmurs, “Don’t you know you belong to me? I don’t say that lightly. There is no other woman in the world I’d rather be with.”
His hand cups the back of my head, his fingers pressing against my scalp as he turns my face toward his. He narrows his eyes, lifting his lip in something close to a <b>snarl</b>. “Much lesse inside. I’m not going to waste time fighting the inevitable. I know you belong to me, Caterina. You are mine, and I am all you’ll ever need.” He trails the fingers of his free hand over my jaw. When are you going to wake up and realize this, as I’m not going to stop until you do.”
The thing is, my traitorous body agrees with him. The slightest touch, and I’m shivering, fighting the urge to melt into his arms. But I can’t. I can’t betray Mom like that–and until I know the truth it will always feel like a betrayal
I manage to turn my face away, shaking off his touch. “No. We’re wrong for each other. You’re wrong for me. Why don’t I get a say in this?”
“Because I know better, and I’m older and wiser.”
“You don’t, though.” I feel him dripping from my pussy as I pull my clothes together, trying to show a little dignity
though dignified is thest word thates to mind whenever we’re together. “This can’t happen again. I don’twant <b>to </b>happen again.”
“You know you do.”
“Stop telling me what I know!” I snap, and the way he recoils in surprise gives me strength “I know how I feel, and this makes me feel awful. Rotten and wrong. You can’t say you care about me or want me if you don’t care that my being with you like this makes me feel terrible about myself. It doesn’t work that way.
“Fine, then, he sighs. “Let’s <b>talk </b>about it.”
“There is nothing to talk <b>about</b>,” I insist. “We’re nothing. This was <b>only </b>sex and a mistake at <b>that</b>. I’m finished.”
On the one hand, it feels <b>good </b>saying what’s weighing on my heart On the other, the hurt touching his eyes and tugging theers of his mouth <b>downward </b>makes me feel <b>small</b>. I don’t want to hurt him, no matter how <b>he’s </b>hurt me with his thoughtlessness and possessiveness.
Then, it’s like somebody flipped a switch. His face goes smooth, hard. Those dark eyes of his be icy pools of water. “Very well.”