My whole life, I’ve said I despised sleeping with virgins, that they were clingy and no good in bed, that my rule to never sleep with the same woman twice meant that to me, a virgin meant nothing more than a bad lay. But Sofia ismine.
I could train her to my pleasure. Teach her to suck my cock the way I like, to take it deep in her throat, to look up at me with those pretty dark eyes as her lips purse and redden around my shaft from the strain of taking all of me. And I’ve never been a selfish lover. I’d reward her with my tongue on her pussy, licking her to as many orgasms as she could stand. I’d make her limp with pleasure before taking her in every position I can think of to teach her. Just the thought of Sofia atop me, her breasts bouncing as she rides my cock, of her upturned ass if I took her roughly from behind, is enough to bring me to the brink of orgasm.
My cock throbs in my hands, my aching balls warning me that I’m close, and the urge to stroke harder and faster hits. I could be finished in a matter of seconds and have some relief. But for whatever reason, I slow down, savoring the sensation of skin on skin as I picture all the ways I could take my new bride, all the things I could make her do if only she’d give in.
I could break her to my will,I think, groaning as my palm rubs over the slick head of my cock.I could make her accept that she wants me. Make her be my wife in all ways.
I let the fantasy overtake me for a moment, even as I know that I won’t do it. It’s too much of a distraction when I have a war to stave off, an organization to run, and the Bratva to bring to heel. A desire to remain emotionally unattached isn’t the only reason I’ve avoided sleeping with the same woman more than once.
It’s also to keep myself from losing direction, from being so immersed in pleasure that I forget what it takes to keep all I’ve earned for myself. And up until now, there’s never been a woman who could threaten that.
Standing in the luxurious shower, my hips thrusting into my fist as I work myself to the edge of climax again, it’s clear that’s changed. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve pleasured myself now thinking about Sofia, how many times her pretty face and full lips and perfect figure have been what flashes in front of my eyes as I climax. Whether I ever touch her again or not, she’s become something close to an obsession. Something that threatens to destroy the careful control and discipline that I’ve built up over so many years.
Just call someone. Just go out. Just fuck some other woman for God’s sake,I think even as a flood of images fill my mind—Sofia on her knees, Sofia bent over, Sofia taking me in her mouth and moaning around my cock as I lick her pussy at the same time, choking on my length as I make her come. Sofia trying not to look at me as I took her virginity, the sweet wet heat of her clamped around me, a tightness I’d never felt before, a pleasure I hadn’t imagined I could have with her. I’d been lying when I said that it was bad—I’d never felt anything like that orgasm. All I’d wanted was to rip that fucking condom off and feel her pussy clenched around my bare cock, filling her with my seed until there was nothing left for me to give her.
“Fuck! Fuck—oh god, fucking hell—” I groan as my cock erupts in my fist, cum spraying over the wall of the shower as my balls tighten to the point of pain, my muscled thighs rigid with the effort of it. It feels as if it’ll never stop, and I jerk harder, imagining all of that cum painting Sofia’s breasts, her face, her lips, her swallowing it, burying it deep inside of her, how good it would feel—
I’m panting by the time my cock stops pulsating, leaning against the side of the shower with the water still pouring over me. I know what I need to do, just as I’ve known since the night I pinned Sofia up against my front door and realized the kind of desire she arouses in me.
I need to find some other woman, maybe more than one, hell—as many as I can bring back to this hotel room, and fuck Sofia out of my head. I need to take this all out on as many willing bodies as I can manage until I remember that no woman holds this kind of sway over me, and exactly why I’ve remained single all my life.
But even as I catch my breath, I know I won’t. I won’t fuck anyone tonight, and probably not tomorrow either. I won’t go out. I’ll order room service, and I’ll drink as much as I can out of the minibar. Then I’ll probably jerk off again, maybe even twice, thinking about Sofia. Thinking about everything I want from her but refuse to take.
I remember Rossi in the hospital room, calling me weak. I’ll never believe that wanting peace over war makes me a weak leader. But just now, with my cock deflating against my thigh after weeks of only self-pleasure interrupted by just that one night with my now-wife, I’m not sure that I don’t have a weakness after all.
If I’m weak in any way, it’s because of Sofia, and only her. And there’s one thing that I’ve been taught all my life.
A man in my position can have no weakness.