Page 107 of Love Without Control

“Fuck,” he bit out, giving my sex three more spanks with the belt. Each stung more than the last, but I’d also never been more aroused in my life. My clit felt like it was about to burst like a balloon. “Your cunt is so swollen and red, Evie. And you’re soaked. You like this don’t you?”

I could feel my arousal dripping down the crack of my ass, and I nodded. “Yes, I need to come,” I warned, writhing against the bedcovers.

Damiano unlooped the belt and slid one end beneath me, holding it against my lower back with his hand while pulling the other end through my legs. With the smooth leather against my sex and him holding both ends, he ordered, “Ride it.”

My hips lifted and began to move back and forth while Damiano held the belt taut, and it only took seconds until I was coming so hard I did one of those silent scream things. Mouth open. No sound coming out. Then the belt was gone, replaced with his hot mouth closed around me, sucking my pussy as the orgasm went on and on.

“Damiano. Damiano. Damiano,” I chanted, finally finding my voice as my hips churned against his face. Euphoria filled me, tingling along every nerve ending until I collapsed back to the mattress.

My husband lifted his dripping face, eyes darker than I’d ever seen them as he rose and straddled me. I watched with rapt attention as he undid his pants and took his heavy cock in his big hand. I couldn’t look away from his rough, quick strokes, the purple head swelling before he released all over my bare stomach.

“Evie. Goddamn, I love coming with your taste on my tongue.” Damiano’s head was thrown back, eyes closed and my juices dripping from his beard and landing on my stomach to mix with his own release.

When he opened his eyes and locked them on me again, I could see the feral love shining in the chocolate-brown depths. Then, with the tip of his index finger, he dabbed one of the spurts of his cum on my chest and drew a heart with it. He did it again with three on my stomach.

“How can you be so sweet and completely debaucherous at the same time?” I asked.

“You ain’t seen nothing yet, baby girl.”

And for the next hour he used his mouth and hands on my body. Wicked, depraved, and ravenous, he worked me over until I couldn’t even count the number of orgasms I had. My back ached from arching off the bed, my hips hurt from being stretched so wide, and my skin prickled from the beard burn that covered literally every inch of my body. As he’d wished, he’d completely broken down all my walls until I was nothing but a pile of mush on wrinkled white sheets.

Finally, unable to take anymore, I called, “Red. Please stop, Damiano.”

Immediately, he lifted his head from the mark he was leaving on the side of my breast and released my hands from the binding. Stretching out beside me, he cuddled me close and kissed the tip of my nose.

“Are you okay, Evie?”

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and rolled to my back, pulling him on top of me. “I’m good. I just needed my arms released.” My legs wound around his waist, notching my pussy against his thick erection.

“Can I make love to you?”

Despite all the pleasure he’d delivered, I wanted nothing more than to have him inside me, to be bound to him in the most intimate way. In fact, I craved that connection.

“Yes.” My voice was pure gravel from calling his name so many times.

Cradling his hips in between my legs, he pushed into me slowly and stilled, resting his forehead against mine. “You feel so perfect around me. So warm and tight.”

With full-body contact, he began to move in and out of me in unrushed thrusts as his hair formed a dark veil around us. “Who do I have now? Dane or Damiano?”

He kissed me softly. “Both.”

Smiling against his lips, I said, “Taking two men at once? Damn, I’m a slut.”

Damiano chuckled and stroked his thumbs along my cheekbones. “Don’t call my wife a slut. She’s my good girl.”

God, I loved when he called me that.

With a roll of his hips, he went deeper, but still didn’t increase his pace. His eyes held mine, and he continued caressing my face with gentle fingers. “I’ve never felt more connected to anyone in my life,” I admitted on a whisper.

“Me neither,” he replied before lowering his mouth to mine and piecing together all of my broken pieces with his kisses. Just like he’d promised.

After our sweet lovemaking, my husband carried me to the bathroom—because my legs were not cooperating—and set me beside the toilet. “Take care of your business, and then we’ll take a shower.”

“I don’t want to shower tonight,” I said, and his dark eyebrows shot up to his hairline because he knew how obsessive I was about my showers. “I want to sleep with you all over me.”

He was unable to fight his smile as he bent to kiss my nose. “Be right back.”

I had just finished and stood when Dane returned to the bathroom with his phone pressed to his ear. He was gloriously naked, and I ogled every hard inch of his tall frame as he spoke into the phone.

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