“Stay still.”
While he licks me, I press my fingertips into the tabletop, and let the pleasure wash over me. My soft mewls turn into gasps and whimpers when he slides two fingers into my pussy.
“Oh,Princesa,” he practically groans. “You’re so tight plugged. I’m going to fuck you while it’s in.”
He wiggles the plug, and my back arches off the table. It’s a snug fit with his fingers and the plug inside me.So snug.
As his wicked tongue paints circles on my wet flesh, my walls clench. I feel my belly contracting into a tight ball. The orgasm he’s demanding from me will be long and brutal, and I hold back for as long as I can. But it’s futile. I’m powerless to stop the avalanche, and as I surrender to the giant swell, every muscle in my body screams before it submits.
“Princesa, you aresobeautiful when you come for me.Sotortured as you surrender to the bliss. I feel your tremors in my balls—the anguish in my soul. It makes my cock weep every time.”
I’m trembling on the table when I hear Antonio’s zipper.I can’t take any more—not yet.But I don’t object beyond a whimper. I don’t have the strength to utter a single word, let alone wage a protest.
He flips me onto my stomach and drags me to the edge of the table. It’s quick and rough, and when he takes his pleasure, he’ll be rough too. My muscles tighten, almost painfully, around the plug that’s still wedged inside me, and despite the twinge of soreness, my body begins to hum in anticipation.
He’s settled between my legs. His bare skin caresses mine, nudging the pleasure sensors open.
“Enjoy one last taste before I enjoy you.”
When he reaches over to bring the glass to my lips, his thick cock lies in the small of my back. Hot and hard. I’m certain I feel the throb.
I take a small sip of the fortified wine. Even in my hyper-aroused state, I recognize the young Port. The one he shared with me the first time we had dinner together.
“It’s the special Port from the first night we had dinner,” I pant. “The one that will be declared a vintage later this year.”The one that filled my heart with joy.
His cock is at my entrance, now. It takes everything I have not to wiggle against it until it slips inside.
“My prized Port from the barrel inside the cave. The barrel you rubbed your pussy all over, squirming until your ripe juices seeped through the wood, making a succulent Port even sweeter. Do you remember that,Princesa?”
He doesn’t wait for me to answer before he sinks his cock into me. The slide is heavy and merciless, especially with the plug. But I welcome every inch of him into my private heaven, basking in the carnality. Although it’s not enough.I want to see him.
Without asking permission, I pull off the blindfold and rest on my forearms, so I can look over my shoulder.I need to see him.
He’s beautiful in the low light. A handsome wolf with hooded eyes and a tight jaw bathed in scruff. It takes my breath away.
“You’re a naughtyPrincesa,” he growls, pounding harder.
“I had to see you. I couldn’t wait any longer.”
He twists the plug, pulling it out, and then pushing it back into my tight passage.The beast inside him has taken over.I feel the shift, as he manipulates the plug, again. And again. In and out. Rocking his hips, deeper and harder, and stealing my sanity as he drives me to the edge. It’s wanton and reckless—and I want more and more—until I can’t.
I lower my forehead to my clenched fists and scream as my body convulses. It’s a hollow scream, muffled by my hands and the lack of air reaching my lungs. But it sends him to the edge too. And with a few savage thrusts, he empties himself inside me.
39
DANIELA
Idon’t know how much time passes before we move. I might have drifted off.
Antonio nudges my protesting muscles into a sitting position, as my eyes struggle to adjust to the light.
My camisole is a few feet away—it looks like it’s been sitting in the bottom of a clothes hamper for months.That’s because it was used as a blindfold. Oh God.
Sometimes even a brilliant idea concocted in the light of day loses its luster when set into motion. Especially ideas that involve butt plugs.What was I thinking?
“Small sips,” he murmurs, bringing a water goblet to my lips. Although my mouth is dry, I only manage a couple of sips while he pulls on his pants.
I hand him the glass, and he guzzles what’s left of the water, the muscles in his throat rippling gently. I inch myself off the table until my feet are on the floor, but I keep one hand on the wooden lip. I’m disoriented and it offers security.