Page 34 of Falling for the Mafia Dom
“Nothing you need to worry aboutpiccolo fiore,” the anger in his eyes dissipates a little, “How are you feeling after last night?”
A flush spreads up my neck to my cheeks at his words, as he makes his way around the desk toward me.
“Good,” my shoulders rise and my chin dips when I am unable to control the bashful embarrassment.
“Don’t lie to me, Ellie,” his eyes bore into me as his hands grip the knot at the front of my robe and gently pushes me backward.
“I’m sorry,” I take another step backward. My back hits the wall as Sal’s arms box me in.
“What are you sorry for?” His tone sincere and compassionate.
I’m so stupid…
“I’m sorry,” I swallow back my fear as he stares down at me, while one of his hands diligently works to undo the knot at the front of my robe. The knot coming undone, my robe falls open and I forget my words.
The knuckle of Sal’s index finger trails from my sternum down my stomach and I can feel a familiar warmth growing between my thighs.
“Tell me what it is you’re sorry for,piccolo fiore,” his touch and compassion make me feel like I am melting.
“I feel stupid,” I lower my chin and break eye contact with him before blurting out, “I’m sorry I cried.”
“Look at me,” his fingers softly lift my chin and I see him shaking his head, “You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about. Your response was perfectly normal. Natural.”
Staring up at him as he speaks, his fingers trail along my sides like fire and ice.
“The paddle…It hurts, but it is good. Enjoyable. Each blow giving you a sense of accomplishment,” I can feel his pride in my accomplishment as his words vibrate through me, “It brings you to a place. A profound pleasure that you cannot experience any other way. It can be overwhelming, and your tears were a very normal reaction to experiencing that for the first time.”
He takes a small step back, folding the rope back over me and cinching the belt around my waist. A small whimper passes my lips.
I need his hands on me.
Reclosing the distance between us, I place my palms on chest and look up at him, “Sal?”
ChapterTwenty-Five
SALVATORE
My name trembling from her lips is longing and desperate, as though begging for my touch is like begging for the ability to breathe.
I know I shouldn’t.
It was just supposed to be last night.
A small indulgence to quench my thirst.
To ease our need.
But it’s not enough.
I need to drink from her like she is an oasis in the desert.
Bending just enough to grip the back of her thighs, I hoist her around my waist while driving her back into the wall. The impact of me crashing against her causes her mouth to part as she blows a grunty breath across my face. Without hesitation, my tongue plunges into her mouth. Roughly exploring her tongue and bruisingly squeezing her round ass, my free hand works the freshly tied knot of her robe as I desperately try to rid her of it. Tearing at it with our hands, we both work fervently to free her of the covering. As it falls to the floor, I throw the terry cloth belt over my shoulder.
She gasps when my hands forcefully pull down the strapless bra covering her breasts, freeing them and leaving it hanging around her waist. Roughly palming one, I suck the other into my mouth. My tongue toying with her pert nipple, I bite down until she elicits a whimper. Releasing it with a pop and replacing my mouth with my free hand, I firmly knead them both and relish in the feel of her trembling breaths in my palms. Her thighs squeeze tightly around my waist when I nip at the meaty part of her breasts in my hands, and I feel the warmth of her cunt through my trousers.
“Fuck, Ellie,” I growl against her lips before vigorously reclaiming her mouth. Swallowing every delectable sound coming from her, I kiss her until we are both breathless.
The light mewling from her as my hand slides into the hair at the nape of her neck can be felt in my throbbing cock. Fisting her hair in my hand and firmly pulling it, her mewling quickly becomes a loud groan as I grant myself access to her long neck. My lips and teeth travel up and down it as her hips grind against the hard length still tucked in my trousers.
