Page 61 of Masked Mafia's Runaway Bride

He laid me down, his hands reaching for the side lamp by the couch, flickering it off.

I felt safe and utterly exposed all at once. His hands roamed over my body, and his lips firmly locked on mine. I stylishly adjusted, allowing him to strip me, sliding my dress up. He held the gown over my face, and he kissed me, the cotton material between our lips.

I squirmed, intrigued and desperate for his touch. His hand cupped my breasts, and I gasped, a tingling sense of excitement washing over me.

Gently, he raised the gown over my head in one fluid motion. His eyes raked over me, and the way he looked at me as though I were the only thing in the world calmed my demons.

“You’re perfect,” he said, and the sincerity in his voice made me feel like I might shatter.

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t answer. Words felt inadequate.

“You’re incredible,” he said, his voice thick with emotion as his lips found the hollow of my throat. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

Sergio left his marks all over my neck. He trailed his tongue from my neck and stopped, his head buried in my bosom. I shut my eyes. Each touch ignited a fire under my skin, and I couldn’t help but arch into him, needing more, silently begging for his touch. He held one of my breasts and kneaded my nipple between his thumb, his mouth on the other nipple. I moaned loudly and felt a wet trickle between my legs.

I tugged at his shirt, needing to feel his skin against mine. He obliged, pulling it off and tossing it aside, revealing a body sculpted like it had been carved from stone. My fingers traced the lines of his muscles, marveling at the strength and warmth of him.

“You’re driving me insane, with all you to me,” I managed to tease, though my voice was breathless.

He chuckled, the sound low and intoxicating, before lowering himself back down, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that was slower this time and more deliberate. It wasn’t just desire. It was something deeper, something that terrified me even as it consumed me.

Our bodies moved together, a synergy that felt as natural as breathing. Instinctively, my legs spread wide open, aching for his touch. He slowly kissed my legs and paused, his eyes consumed with desire.

“I want to do unspeakable things to you,” he declared, a fiery gaze in his eyes.

He moved downwards, and I felt his breath just inches away from being buried in between my thighs. I waited, anticipating. He slid his tongue in, and I let out a loud moan, my handclutching his hair. He slid his tongue in and out of my wetness, one of his hands gently fondling my clitoris, the other on my nipple. Bursts of light sparkled in my eyes as my legs began to tremble from the sensation that threatened to burn all the senses in my body.

Sergio grinned as I quietened down. He gathered me into his arms and laid me on his chest.

“What was that?” I asked in disbelief, shocked by the entire experience.

He chuckled lightly, his hand caressing my bare skin. “Something to drive you totally crazy.”

“Oh yeah?” I asked, chuckling. “You think you are the only one with crazy ideas?”

He laughed, his eyes twinkling at the challenge. “Want to show me yours?”

I giggled and stretched my hands to his erect length. I heard a low moan escape his lips. I sat up and ran my hands over the length of his hardness and watched his eyes fasten on me, trying to control the torture I was putting him through.

I kissed the tip of his manhood, then swallowed the length of him into my mouth, stroking and thrusting, my tongue moving up and down in rhythmic thrusts. Sergio gripped my hair, his eyes begging me to release him. I smiled and increased the tempo, deliberately punishing him.

“Beg me,” I challenged him, my tongue squeezing the cap of his hard length.

“Please,” he begged.

I smiled and sat over him with my eyes fixed on him. Slowly, I guided him inside, in between my wet thighs and began to move my waist, thrusting in and out of him. Sergio could not stand thetorture. He held my waist and rammed into me, his eyes fiery, a contorted line on his forehead. He pulled out and knelt behind me. I bent low, allowing him access to take me from behind, urgently waiting and desirous of him. Quickly, he guided himself into my vagina; the sheer feeling of his erectness inside me made me moan. Wordlessly, he thrust in and out of me, increasing his tempo with each thrust.

Together, we rode each other; by the time we reached the crescendo, I wasn’t sure where I ended and where he began.

Afterward, as we lay tangled together on the couch, our breaths mingling in the quiet. He brushed a strand of hair from my face and smiled—a real, genuine smile that softened his features in a way I hadn’t seen before.

“I have waited forever to have you like this again,” Sergio whispered in my ears, but my eyelids were already so heavy, sleep threatening to consume me.

What does he mean bylike this again? My eyes shut.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

MIRELLA

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