I nodded and carefully pulled out a bit before I sank back into Greta’s heat. When her body didn’t clamp down on my cock like a vice anymore, I began to move back and forth a couple of inches at a slow pace.
I slid one arm under Greta, cupping her firm ass in my palm and lifted her slightly, shifting the angle as I got on my knees. I never stopped kissing Greta as I thrust into her slowly, my fingers kneading her ass. Soon the intense friction became close to unbearable, my balls ready to burst and I sped up slightly. Greta’s grip on me tightened as she tried to meet my thrusts.
My control began to slip as pleasure mounted and I squeezed my eyes shut with a guttural moan as my orgasm hit me.
I pumped into her two more times, releasing into her with every thrust, then I stilled, my eyes closed as I relished in the sensations coursing through my body. Greta’s soft fingers on my back brought me back to reality.
I couldn’t stop stroking muscled back and drew in another deep breath, loving Amo’s musky scent that mingled with the smell of sex. It was such a sensual, erotic scent.
If I hadn’t felt so sore and raw between my legs, I might have been turned on again. Instead I focused on the feeling of utter fullness. Amo was still inside of me, stretching me to an extent I hadn’t thought possible.
The pain reminded me that this was real, not another dream I’d wake from. This time Amo was really making me his.
Amo lifted his head and kissed me gently, his expression full of concern as he pulled out slowly. I bit my lip to stifle a wince. My body relaxed when Amo was completely out of me and I drew in a shaky breath. Amo gave my ass a light squeeze before he removed his arm from under me. I’d really enjoyed his touch there and would probably appreciate it in the future as an additional turn on. Now my body needed to recover.
Amo stroked my cheek, his warmth comforting. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
He pulled back and glanced down at the towel. He shook his head. “I’m glad I thought of the towel. This is only for our eyes.” He kissed the scar on my knee then gently patted me with the towel before he removed it from under me and tossed it away. He stretched out beside me and pulled me against his chest.
“Next time will be better for you.”
“It was good for me.” I traced Amo’s bicep, loving its hardness and the strength behind the muscle. I curled my hand over it, wondering why it pleased me so much that my hand looked so small against his arm.
Amo pulled back to look at my face, his disbelief obvious.
“It was good in the sense that I appreciated the symbolism of the sex, that you made me yours.”
Amo’s eyes flashed with a dark possessiveness that sent a pleasant shiver down my back. Another unreasonable reaction my body displayed because of Amo. Then a slow, ironic smile pulled at his lips. “Next time I want you to appreciate the sex for the mind-blowing pleasure, not the symbolism.”
“It’ll be good either way.”
Amo chuckled and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I can’t tell you how fucking happy I am knowing that I’ll get to hear your quirky comments all my life.”
“I still can’t believe it.” Another thought crossed my mind. “But what are you going to do about the sheets?”
“I guess I’ll continue Dad’s legacy and create a new Vitiello tradition.”
“You’ll cut yourself, right?”
Amo nodded.
“You could have spared yourself the pain if you’d just used my blood and not put the towel beneath me.”
Amo cradled my face. “I didn’t want to share even this tiny part of you with the world.”
I frowned. “You realize many people have seen my blood before?” Blood from a first time wasn’t any different than any blood from a cut or other wound.
Amo laughed, a boisterous, deep laugh that warmed my belly. “Oh Greta. I can’t wait to spend my life with you.”
I shrugged and pressed my cheek against his chest. “If you feel possessive over my blood this might cause quite a few problems in the future. Unless you get a medical education and treat me yourself.” I bit my lip. I was teasing him now, but I couldn’t resist.
“If that’s what it takes,” he murmured, then his voice became harder and lower. “But I’ll make sure that you won’t ever suffer a wound, not even a fucking papercut.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but he pressed his finger against my lips. “I don’t want to know the statistics or any facts.”
“Okay,” I whispered against his skin then kissed his finger. I closed my eyes and breathed in his comforting scent.