I’m starting to feel like his, and it’s hard to believe I’m not when he touches me the way he does.
“You taste so fucking good, Bellissima,” he groans. He’s on top of me, naked and glorious, and against the subtle lights he looks like a vengeful god ready to exact his vengeance, taking everything he wants, including me.
I’m so immersed and enthralled by what he’s doing to me that I can’t answer him. My brain has been robbed of every thought that isn’t his touch.
He looms over me in that predatory manner and smiles as he watches my reaction.
“Do you want more, baby?” he asks.
“Yes… ahhh… I want more.” I moan.
“I think your pretty pussy needs my attention.”
I gasp, sucking in a sharp breath when he dives in and starts licking off the cream he’s covered my pussy in.
The chains clink against the metal bedframe, and I wrap my legs around him, digging into his back. He licks over my mound to eat the cream there, then over my pussy lips. His tongue makes rasping strokes over my clit as he devours the strawberries he nestled there. I arch my back as he looks up at me and smiles.
“Want more, baby?” he taunts. The devil, he knows I do. He knows I want him bad. There’s no other answer to that question except yes.
“I want you. I want more,” I cry. There’s a desperation in my voice I don’t recognize. I don’t recognize that voice. It sounds like it’s coming from someone else.
I normally have my guard up. I normally never show anyone how much I need them, or anything. But this man changed up every rule I’ve ever lived by.
He dives back in and starts sucking on my clit. He’s cleaned off most of the cream from me, and all the fruit is gone. Only sticky streaks remain on my skin, blending in with the sweat from our bodies.
I cry out as I feel the tug of orgasm in my core. It’s vicious and merciless as it roils within my body creating an infernal heat I can’t satisfy. The chains clink as I shuffle like a wild animal possessed, except I’m possessed by the pleasure this man is giving me.
Fucking hell. I can barely catch my breath.
I’m at the edge again, and he’s teasing me now. First, he starts slowing his suckle, then he strokes with his fingers, then his cock. I glance down and ache for him to be inside me.
“Want more, Bellissima?” he taunts, playing with his words while playing with me.
“Yes, give me more.”
“Beg for it,” he tells me. “Beg me for more.”
“Please, give me more.”
“What do you want me to do to you, Bellissima?” He presses his cock to the slick, wet opening of my entrance but doesn’t slide in. He continues his play and torture.
“Fuck me. Fuck me, James… please,” I plead.
“With pleasure, Bellissima.”
I was supposed to be prepared. I know how this feels. Having him inside me is something I should be used to by now given the amount of sex we’ve had. Yet, as he slams into my pussy, stars speckle my vision and I come instantly.
I come hard, and a rush of fire pulses through my body, burning me up from the inside out. It licks over my skin in hot waves that make me lose my mind. It doesn’t matter that I’m restrained. As he starts fucking me, I move against him too. We both take each other as passion makes us its slaves. Raw, carnal, primal hunger takes over, and he holds me so tight it’s painful. He slamming into me again and again so hard I scream with the intense pleasure, burying my heels deeper into his back. I know I must cut him, and I try to hold back. I just can’t, and neither can he.
Another orgasm sweeps through me, and his cock pulses deep inside my passage. That’s the signal that he’s about to come too. I come again, and he does at the same time. We both surrender to the force that’s taken us whole, and it feels like the moment I truly give myself to him.
Something slipped from me. It felt like I was holding on to something I used to shield myself and protect my heart from sadness.
He pulls out and runs his fingers over the flat of my stomach, gazing down at me with tenderness brimming in his eyes as I continue to shudder, trying to catch my breath.
When he lowers his head to plant gentle kisses there that climb all the way back to my lips, I realize he feels different to me too. His eyes meet mine, and he stares deeply at me. He only breaks eye contact to undo the chains on my wrists, which I notice have bruises even though they were protected by the cuffs on the chains. That came from us, from how wild we were.
“Oh no,” he breathes when he sees them. “I’m sorry baby. I was too rough. Are you hurt?”