Page 69 of Mafia Mistress

“Allora, put your feet on the floor.” His Italian accent was more pronounced, which made it even sexier.

I scrambled to do as he asked, and his hands positioned me between his legs as I leaned over on the bed. My elbows dug into the mattress and Fausto reached for the bottle of lube again. I tensed, coming up on my hands. Was he seriously—?

“Relax. Not today. I want to shoot all over your ass.”

A tiny drizzle of lube trickled between my ass cheeks. Then he smoothed it over my skin, brushing my hole. I froze.

“I never go back on my word,” he whispered as he touched the same spot again. “My cock will not fuck your ass today, te lo prometto.”

No one had ever touched me there, but I trusted Fausto. I sagged onto the bed and let him do as he wished. His slick erection slid into the crevice between my cheeks, which he pushed together. Then he was sliding between my ass cheeks the same way he’d fucked my tits. His strong hands held me still while his rough thighs met the backs of my legs. It was like he was fucking me from behind, but without the stimulation.

God, I needed the stimulation.

Miserable, I shook my head back and forth, shoving my ass higher. Hair covered my face and I could feel the sweat on my temples. I cupped my breasts and squeezed, pulling on my nipples.

“Roll your hips,” he panted. “Work my cock and I’ll reward you.”

He didn’t need to ask twice. I started rolling my hips, giving him friction while he held still. I was gyrating and sliding my flesh over his, that thick rod hot and heavy between my cheeks. I barely felt his hand leave my skin before he slapped my ass, fire exploding under my skin.

I sucked in a breath and lost my rhythm. Fuck, that hurt.

“Don’t stop.” Another slap. “Keep going and make me come.”

The pain from the slaps turned into heat, the kind that made my knees go weak. My clit throbbed in response, and the slickness between my thighs ran down my legs. I kept moving, and he spanked me again and again, his palm landing blows all over my backside. Then he switched sides, starting over on the other cheek, and I was an incoherent mess. My body burned, but there was no pain. My skin sang with pleasure, sensitive and bright, and as if on instinct I slid my fingers down between my legs, the need to come undeniable.

“No,” he said, pinning my arm down as he covered my back. My sore ass pulsed against his cool skin. “Not yet, Francesca.”

I humped the mattress, my urges uncontrollable. This caused his tip to skim the entrance to my pussy. We both froze, the temptation right there. Oh, God. All he had to do was push a tiny bit forward and he would fill me. Stretch me. Give me every bit of his hard cock.

I couldn’t stand it. I needed him like I needed air. “Please, Fausto.”

“Allora, tu sei mio?”

“What?”

“Are you mine?”

I knew what he meant, but I couldn’t say it. I couldn’t admit to being his mistress. I pressed my lips together, unable to say the words, while I clawed and tore at the comforter, my miserably body at war with itself as my lust remained unfulfilled. The wanting was painful, like I was on a knife’s edge, my mind screaming for release. I didn’t know how much longer I could hold out.

“I will not fuck you until you tell me. I want to hear the words.”

“No, please. Just once.”

“Say it, and I will fuck your pussy. You will come so hard.” He teased me with a shift of his hips, the tip of his erection skimming my entrance again. “I will make it so good for you.”

My resistance folded. “I’m yours,” I blurted. “Please. I’m yours.”

Before I could blink, he shoved inside me, my walls stretching to accommodate his girth. It wasn’t easy. He was large and I hadn’t been prepared, so it took a few pumps of his hips before he was fully seated.

I clutched the duvet, my fingers sinking into the plush fabric, the sensation of having him inside me even better than I’d imagined. I could feel him everywhere, from my swollen lips and aching breasts, to my sore ass and full pussy. It was like an overload for my nerve endings.

Then he started moving, and it felt even better. It was indescribable, this euphoria. Fausto fucked me like he was punishing me, each punch of his hips slapping into the skin he’d spanked a moment ago. He drove deep, holding my hips still so he could pound as hard as he wanted. I loved it. He was rough and unforgiving, everything I needed.

The bed rocked, the frame creaking as he worked himself in and out of my body. His fingers slipped between my legs and found my clit. He pinched the swollen nub then circled it, and the world exploded. Sparks shot through my limbs as they convulsed, and my brain completely shut down, the pleasure almost brutal in its intensity.

As the orgasm subsided, I slumped on the bed, weak as a kitten, but I could feel Fausto’s rhythm faltering. With a roar he pulled out of my channel and hot jets of liquid landed on my ass. He grunted, one hand holding my hip as his come coated my skin.

I relished the feeling, the knowledge that I’d made this powerful man come so hard. But as the sweat cooled on my skin, I thought about what I had said. I’d given in, admitted I belonged to him. Even in the afterglow of the best orgasm of my life, I knew I’d made a mistake.

What piece of my soul had I just traded away?

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