Page 47 of Fatal Sloth

“Y-yes,” piccola ballerina gasps.

"Who do you belong to?" I ask huskily, my breathing rough as I continue my assault on her sweet virgin cunt.

“You,” she moans as her legs wrap around my waist, pulling me in.

"Who. Owns. This. Pussy?" I ask, punctuating each word with a brutal snap of my hips.

“Y-You do,” she whimpers as her walls clench around me.

"Damn right, I do!" I rasp, the words carrying a possessive dominance. "And only fucking mine."

I know she’s close, I am too, but I'm not done with her yet. I fuck her harder and faster, hitting her g-spot, ravaging her pussy as she starts to come undone, her whole body shaking with pleasure. My relentless attack on her body doesn't lighten as she rides out her first orgasm. My pace quickens, and Mia's cries of pleasure only grow louder, her body trembling with the intensity of her release.

I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.

Mia’s lustful eyes meet mine as I continue my assault on her pussy. I grab her by the hip, fucking her harder as my balls slap against her bare skin. My hand reaches down to play with her sensitive clit, probing her body for another orgasm.

“It’s too much. Too much,” she cries. “I don't know if I can come again,” Mia's voice quivers with a mixture of pleasure and trepidation.

“You can and you will, just one more. Can you do that for me, Piccolina?” The command in my voice leaves no room for her to refuse. The sweet torture of her cunt makes my dick throb, begging for release.

"Come for me," I say, with a devilish grin as she comes on my command, coming undone on my cock again for the second time. My thrusts become frantic, sloppier as I feel my balls tighten, groaning as her pussy tightens uncontrollably, milking my cock. "Fuck," I curse out on my final thrust in her delicious pussy. Coming harder than I ever have before.

I bury my face in Mia’s hair, inhaling her luscious scent as we both ride out our orgasm together, not wanting this moment to end so soon.

After a few minutes, I roll off Mia, ready to pull the cum-filled condom off. I see traces of blood on the condom and sheets. A moment of clarity echoes through my post-orgasmic mind as a wave of guilt washes through me.

“Why didn't you tell me?” I question, my frustration mixing with genuine concern.

“I’m not a cheater- do believe me now, Bash?” she utters. Her words replay in my head over and over as I watch her wince with each movement. She sits up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and pushes to stand, limping towards the ensuite. And here I sit, still conflicted from the best sex I’ve had in a while––if ever––and gutted after accusing la piccola ballerina of sleeping with Nico.

I know I fucked up, but do I care? Should I care? The questions swirl in my mind like a raging storm of self-doubt.

27

Mia

The courage that got me into this moment now feels like a distant memory, fading away as I confront the reality of what just happened. A surge of vulnerability washes over me, leaving me feeling exposed and uncertain under Sebastiano's gaze. My heart races with a rapid rhythm that echoes the intensity of my emotions while my throat grows dry with nervousness.

I can't stay in bed with him any longer, naked and raw, with these feelings pressing down on me. Plus, I need to clean up, both physically and emotionally.

I sit up suddenly, feeling soreness between my legs that serves as a stark reminder of what just happened. Each step toward the bathroom is shaky. The ache between my legs intensifies, a constant throbbing presence that refuses to fade. I hold my breath, hoping it will help, while I struggle with the emotions threatening to overwhelm me with every beat of my racing heart.

Once the door shuts, I feel an immediate sense of relief. But that relief is short-lived when Sebastiano waltzes right in, still stark-naked.

As I reach for the towel hanging up, Sebastiano's hand closes around my arm, firm but not enough to hurt. Heat floods my cheeks, and my heart races as I freeze, caught off guard by his touch. Instinctively, I wrap my other arm around myself, a feeble attempt to shield my breasts, though I'm not doing an excellent job at it. His eyes linger on me, the intensity sending shivers down my spine.

"You don’t get to just walk away from this," he asserts, his tone firm but still gentle.

"And you don’t get to accuse me of cheating," I retort, trying my best to accumulate the boldness I had earlier.

He groans, stepping closer to press his forehead against mine and moving my arm away from my breast.

“You don't get to hide from me, plus I've already seen you.” His words are so low I barely hear him.

"Damn it, I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have said what I said, but what am I supposed to think when he's always here with you, and you didn't tell me you were meeting him?" Sebastiano's voice carries a tone of frustration, his expression pained as if my actions are hurtful to him. "And I didn’t need you to give me your virginity to prove me wrong."

"First of all, I never lied to you, but you didn't give me the chance to explain. And secondly, it’s not that I didn't want to have sex before. I did, but the watchful eyes that monitored my every move, only to report it back to my father, made it difficult. Do you think I want to be the only virgin to graduate from Juilliard?"

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