Page 19 of De Luca: The Saint

“Yes,” I moan, “Only you.”

“Good girl. When it comes to you, I’m a very jealous man. You’re mine. If someone else touches what’s mine, they die. You don’t want anyone to die, do you, Angel?”

“N-n-ooo,” I stutter helplessly, as he wraps a hand around my throat while thrusting two fingers inside me.

Like the wanton, needy person he turns me into, I push against his fingers every time he goes to pull them out.

“That’s it, Angel. Ride my hand,” as he rubs his palm against my clit, instantly sparking fireworks in my body.

“Damian, I’m gonna-”

“Good girl. Fucking come all over my fingers.”

I grip the railing so tight, that it hurts as I fall into ecstasy, screaming, writhing, and losing myself in what he does to me.

Damian manipulates my body as if he’s known it all his life. Like he knows exactly which buttons to push to make me explode. Every single time it’s earth-shattering.

He pulls his fingers from me and sucks them loudly, “Delicious.”

Damian stands behind me, undoing his belt and the zipper on his pants, which are loud in the quiet night. He places a hand on my back, pushing me forward slightly, and smacks my ass, causing me to yelp before he slides my panties to the side and slams into me with a groan. Pushing my hair off my neck, he sucks on my neck while pulling out and slamming back into me with the speed of a freight train. Damian is not gentle, but I don’t hate it.

I never thought I’d be into rough sex, but with him, I am. I love every second of it.

He takes me like he can’t wait, as if he might die if he doesn’t feel me from the inside. There’s something powerful about being wanted so desperately.

“This fucking cunt, Kitty Kat. I could stay inside you forever.”

I know I’m close to another orgasm when I feel my insides clench around his length.

He growls, “Fuck yes, baby. Jesus Christ.”

He follows me into the all-consuming euphoria that takes hold of me.

I whimper his name repeatedly as my body spasms with tiny bolts of electricity. There’s something about this moment that petrifies me. I can feel myself becoming more wrapped up in Damian, and that’s dangerous. The way he spoke of his mother, sister and father made him seem less mobster and more human. How can I possibly keep my heart out of this when he makes me feel everything?

He pulls out of me and does his pants up before spinning me around so I’m facing him and kissing me like a famished man. He slides his hands up my arms, to my shoulders, my neck, eventually cupping my face as he tilts his head, deepening our kiss. His tongue caresses mine with strong lashes as he swallows my moans.

This is the danger with him. When he kisses me like this, I forget all the warning signs that go off in my head. All the ones screaming, ‘danger, get out now.’ Damian is a walking red flag, but everything in me wants to be color-blind when it comes to this man.

I want to give him all of me, but I don’t want to be destroyed in the process. Damian De Luca is the kind of man who could set everything ablaze and leave me standing alone in the ashes, trying to piece my heart back together.

He pulls back and shakes his head, “You, Angel, are perfection.”

Standing staring at me, he arches an eyebrow, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I whisper.

It’s a lie, I know it, and so does he. He growls, “Talk to me.”

I shake my head, “Really, I’m okay.”

“Did you not want that?”

The sinner has apparently gone away, and the saint is back.

I giggle, “Of course I wanted it. I’ll tell you if I don’t.”

He strokes my cheek with the pad of his thumb, “I’m not a good man, Kitty Kat. But I have never taken a woman that doesn’t want it. I never will.”

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