Page 47 of Caesar DeLuca
“You!? You expect me to believe a rich, successful, powerful mafia capo hasn’t had sex in almost a year?”
“I told you. I’m particular.”
I smirk at him. “You’re practically a born again virgin.”
“Then we’ll have to do something about that, won’t we?” He returns my playfulness by stepping closer and palming my ass. “It looks like it was worth the wait. Take off your top, Ariana.”
His request rolls off his tongue and sends a shiver up my spine.
“I always keep my…” I lick my bottom lip before nibbling on it. “I usually don’t do that.”
“You mean with him? Well, you’re not with him, are you?” He catches my chin and plants a kiss on my lips, even as I’ve started gnawing on them. “I want your shirt off. Your bra off. The lights on and all of you uncovered, Ariana. The view’s too damn good to pass up.”
He means every word.
The exact opposite of what Freddie had told me.
The shiver he’s given me still jolts through my bones. I’ve forgotten how to breathe again as my fingers grip the hem of my baggy t-shirt and I lift it over my head. Seeing no use in taking my time, I quickly undo the clasps on my bra and let that fall too.
My breasts hang free, large with natural sag. I’ve got big areolas and puffy nipples. The left is slightly smaller than the right, though you can’t tell at first glance. They’re far from perfect, but I always turned Freddie down when he mentioned getting them done.
They’re as much a part of me as the rest of my body.
Caesar reaches into his sweatpants and pulls out his dick. His knuckles tighten as he runs his fist up and down his length.
I’m equally as distracted by him as he seems to be by me.
His bare chest and abs are attractive enough. The lower half of his body takes it to a whole new level.
His pelvis is lean and chiseled, slashed by the deep v cut that points toward his dick.
It’s smooth, with a slight curve and fat head. He’s rock hard, his shaft engorged from the blood that’s pumped into it. Arousal drips from the tip, making me wet my lips, wondering what he tastes like.
But Caesar’s absentmindedly fisting himself. He’s zeroed in on my breasts. He strokes his dick as he closes the gap between us and fondles my breast with his free hand. I moan at the warmth of his palm cupping over me. He weighs my breast in the palm of his hand, then gives it an appreciative squeeze.
Then we’re kissing again, impatience growing. Our feet take us the rest of the way.
Caesar pulls me down onto the bed. He’s assertive and aggressive.
Rough… but also reverent in his own way.
I feel so taken care of as he pins me down and then strokes my curves. He nips at my jaw and grinds himself into me. His heat is an explosive volcanic eruption that burns everything in its path.
I’m a casualty as Caesar unleashes himself. He’s passionate in the kisses he gives. Appreciative in how he touches me. Animalistic in his reactions as he gropes my curves and his mouth travels all over.
“Never,” he warns, his mouth hot on my nipple. “Never under any circumstances change these. They’re perfect.”
He groans, dragging his tongue around my areola and then sucks my puffy nipple into his mouth. I cry out at how fiercely he sucks. The warm, wet sensation makes pleasure tingle in my breast.
My fingers find their way into his hair where they slide through his sleek strands. He understands what I need. His greedy suckling intensifies ’til I’m thrashing under him.
I’m on the brink of coming just from what he’s doing to my breasts.
He expertly alternates between them, sucking and squeezing. The huge, sensitive mounds of flesh respond to his every flick and lick.
His hand glides over my belly and hips and thighs. He pushes inside my panties and seeks out my clit.
“Caesar, mmm!” I moan, shuddering under him.
