Page 69 of Wicked Mafia Mistake
As if sensing my need for reassurances, Massimo murmurs against my skin, "I'm right here." His thumb traces a slow circle against my other entrance, gentle, no pressure, just the warmth of his touch introducing itself. "Relax for me. I've got you,tesoro."
A cap clicks open on the nightstand. Cool lubricant against my skin, a contrast that makes me gasp. His thumb returns, slicker now, circling with patience that borders on maddening while hismouth continues working me from behind. The dual sensation builds heat in two directions at once. A sound I've never heard myself make escapes my throat, raw and involuntary. It makes his fingers tighten on my hip.
He takes his time. God, does he take his time. One finger replaces his thumb, pressing slowly, giving me room to breathe around the unfamiliar stretch. His voice never stops. Low, steady, a current of praise that seeps into my skin and loosens something I've been holding for years. I press my body into his touch, lifting my hips.
"So good for me,tesoro. So brave. You have no idea how beautiful you look right now."
I push back against his hand. The stretch burns, tight and foreign. I breathe through it. In through my nose, out through my mouth, and the burn softens to pressure and the pressure opens into a bloom of warmth that pulses deep in my core. His other hand grips me, kneading, possessive, and I moan when he tightens his hold. I lift my ass deeper into his touch, loving his strong grip as he teases my back entrance.
"More." I grip the sheets until my knuckles ache. "I can take more."
A second finger. Slower. He scissors them gently, working me open with a precision that makes my thighs tremble. His other hand slides beneath me, finding my clit, pressing firm circles that send sparks up my spine. The pleasure from the front tangles with the stretch from behind and my brain dissolves, every thought replaced by sensation.
"That's my girl." His voice is strained, tight with the effort of holding himself back. "You're perfect."
I look back to see his amber eyes lit with a fusion of hunger and desire.
“How badly do you want me, Massimo? Tell me.” I reach back for him and he twines his fingers through mine.
His chest expands and collapses several times before he answers and when he does, his words are rough. Like he has sandpaper for vocal cords.
“More than I want my next breath. More than anything else. I want you, Sloane. Only you.”
He steps back, undresses and comes back to me gloriously naked. The sight of him steals what's left of my breath. His cock is thick with need and I know for a fact come morning, I'm going to feel every inch of where he's been.
“Tesoro. My blood is yours. My soul. My heart. Remember that.”
He finally positions himself behind me. “Hold yourself open for me,tesoro.”
I do as instructed and when I feel the broad head of his cock press where his fingers were I can’t control the gasp into the sheets. I moan and move my hips, desperate to feel everything with this man.
He pushes forward. Inch by inch. I tighten my hold on the sheets with both hands, my knuckles white against the cotton, and breathe as my body opens for him in a way I never imagined possible. The fullness is immense, pressure and heat filling me so completely I lose the edges of my own body.
"Breathe, Sloane. Stay with me, mytesoro."
"I'm here." My voice fractures. "I'm right here." My heart trembles and quakes in my chest.
He seats himself fully and goes still. Both of us breathing heavily. His forehead presses against the back of my neck, his skin damp, and I feel the tremor running through his arms where they brace on either side of me. The effort it takes him not to move vibrates through his body into mine.
Then his hand reaches beneath me and I feel the vibrator press against my clit. I didn’t realize he took it out of the drawer.
He clicks it on and the buzz jolts through my already overwhelmed body. My hips buck and a cry tears from my mouth that I couldn't stop if I tried.
He begins to move. Slow, shallow strokes while the vibrator hums against my clit. The combination of fullness from behind and direct stimulation on my most sensitive nerve is so intense my vision narrows to a point. My fingers twist the sheets. My mouth falls open against the pillow. Every thrust sends waves through me that build on each other, layering, compounding, until I can't tell where one crest ends and the next begins.
I suck in a gasping breath at the shockwaves shooting outward from my core. I barely manage to catch my breath when he pulls out only to sink back into my ass. And almost on command, my body gives him everything.
I try to move my hips but his grip holds me in place, and he sets the rhythm.
"Oh God." Tears leak from the corners of my eyes, hot against my temples, soaking into the pillow. Not from pain. But from the sheer overwhelming pressure of pleasure I didn't know my body could contain. From the trust it takes to lie face down and let thisman inside the most vulnerable part of me and feel nothing but safe. "Massimo, I can't. It's too much."
"You can. You're taking me so well. You’re such a good girl. Such a beautiful wife. I wish you could see how well you take my cock. Fucking beautiful." His voice is wrecked, barely a voice at all. "Let go,tesoro. I've got you. I'm right here."
I let go.
The orgasm detonates from somewhere so deep it doesn't feel like my body anymore. My spine arches, my scream buries itself in the crumpled sheets, every muscle clenching so hard his groan shakes through both of us. He follows me, his hips pressing flush, his warmth flooding through me. His arms wrap around my waist and he holds me through the aftershocks, his chest sealed to my back, his lips moving against my shoulder blade, whispering words I can't make out over the roaring in my ears.
I cry. Quiet tears that roll across my temples and disappear into my hair. The fear I've been carrying for eleven years lets go and the relief of it shakes through my whole body. My body chose trust over terror. And that is everything.
