Page 15 of Malevolent Secrets

“You taste so sweet, Tesoro,” he praises me in between clever strokes of his tongue.

“What does that mean?” I ask, my voice languid, my head lolling back as pleasure coils within me more and more tightly.

“It means treasure,” he rasps before going back to work driving me crazy.

Treasure. I love the sound of that. Something about the way it sounds, the romance and music of the Italian, causes its own kind of pleasure.

“I’m going to come!” I suddenly gasp out. He grabs my hips and lifts me off his face immediately. I whimper in protest.

“Not yet, Tesoro,” he tells me, shaking his head. “I will tell you when you can come.”

I start to protest, but the thought runs away as I watch him slip off his boxer briefs, freeing his cock. It’s the biggest one I’ve ever seen and I swallow loudly. I’m both desperate to be filled by it and scared that he could hurt me with it.

“Do you want me to fuck you with this?” he asks me, sliding a hand along his length. I watch his cock leap in his hands, and my mouth feels dry. I rub my legs together, desperate for release.

“If you do,” he goes on, stepping closer to me and reaching out to curl his fingers into the swell of my hip. “All you have to do is ask nicely. I always appreciate good manners.”

I want to be annoyed at this. I want to be righteously angry that he is demanding this of me, but instead, I melt inside.

“Please,” I hear myself say.

“Please, what?” he demands, squeezing my hip hard enough that I suck in a breath.

“Please fuck me with your huge cock,” I say, my voice dripping with lust. A small, distracted corner of my mind wonders where such a filthy sentence came from. I have never been this kind of girl.

“Of course, I will, beauty,” he says to me, his deep voice full of promise.

He presses me back onto the sofa and kneels between my legs. He leans forward and presses a harsh kiss to my lips, and I can feel the velvety head of his dick slipping along my wetness, tantalizing me.

I moan and lift my hips, wanting more, but he only continues to kiss me, his lips hard on mine.

When he finally slips the head of his huge cock just barely inside of me, I cry out at the shock of pleasure. I feel desperate, hungry and aflame.

I’m wild for him to sink himself inside of me. I squirm and writhe, but he continues to just dip the very tip of himself inside of me.

“Fuck me,” I hear myself pleading aloud. “Please, fill me. I can’t stand it anymore. Please.”

He chuckles at this and presses a kiss to the side of my neck, just under my ear.

“Of course, beautiful girl,” he whispers, and he presses deeper into me, but slowly, so slowly.

He’s positively huge and I can feel myself stretching. I feel the wave of pleasure balanced against pain. He finally slides all the way home and I lift my legs, wrapping them around his narrow hips. I wriggle, still needing more, but again, he waits, just allowing me to feel the fullness within me.

I’m panting. The sound is very loud in the quiet of the apartment. I should be embarrassed, but I’m not. All I can feel is the pleasure and stretching of my pussy as he fills me. All I can attend to is my mindless need for him.

Then he starts to move, so slowly, all the way back out of me, and then slowly, all the way back in. I’m keening by now, writhing and twisting, wanting more and yet not knowing if my body can handle it.

“Oh my God,” I start saying over and over again, the tingling of pleasure starting to build despite the way he’s moving so slowly, so carefully within me.

“God, you’re tight,” he grunts as he starts to move faster.

“Yes! Fuck me! Don’t stop, please!” I cry as he thrusts into me harder and harder.

I bury my fingers into his back and hold on to him tightly and in no time, I reach climax. I feel a gush of liquid pouring out of me, spilling across both of us. I cry out over and over again as the pleasure rips me apart and reassembles me over and over again.

He is silent as he thrusts into me, chasing his own release, but I can feel his body trembling and I moan at the feeling of him spilling himself inside of me. I feel marked, claimed and changed as I stroke my fingers through the thick hair on the nape of his neck.

We rest like that for a while, breathing hard, sticky, and warm, but not eager to break apart.

---