Page 70 of Deception

The thought of it has me sweating, on the verge of coming with pure excitement.

“And what if I blindfolded you?”

“As if I would have a choice, my hands would be tied…”

“And your ankles, too…leaving you helpless. Completely under my control. How does that sound?”

Her chest is heaving.

“How would that be any different than how you have me now? I’m yours…”

She's right. The last few days have been wild.

But I want to dominate her.

“I want to tie you up and worship you so thoroughly that you lose all sense of yourself. I want you to surrender to me.” Snatching the belt from my robe on the counter, I loop it around her wrists behind her back, tying it tight. Pulling back roughly, I force her down over the bar and she struggles, just enough to make me smile. Right before I yank back sharply, painfully.

Isabella growls, thrusting her ass towards me.

And I spank it again, so much harder. Her legs tense, buckling slightly.

She still has too much freedom for my taste. She still has too much leeway. But for now, this will have to do.

It'll be a taste of things to come.

When I slide into her. It's velvet ecstasy.

Just like it is every time, and it never feels quite the same. It’s always new, mind altering.

Like I’ve never felt anything like it.

For a few seconds I stay deep inside, gyrating slowly, feeling every single part of her around me. She tries to thrust back against me but I press down, pulling up on her arms, incapacitating her completely.

She's helpless against me and she knows it. Her legs shake in anticipation, a slight thrill of fear flashing in her eyes as she looks back, her face pressed into the counter.

My first thrust is purposeful, testing.

My second thrust is powerful, slamming her against the countertop.

Her low sultry cry tells me it's exactly what she wants, and I smack her ass again.

I pick up speed and with every second or third thrust, I smack her ass erratically, never the same rhythm. It's swollen, bright red now.

I tug back on her arms, driving myself deeper. Harder.

“Mmm, yessss,more!” she grates out, and I concede, this time. It won’t do to have her giving me orders, though.

Her breath becomes ragged as mine does, our body's flexing tensing. We keep reaching new levels of arousal, of release. And yet, it makes it worse, the need, the longing.

It's like we keep getting wound tighter and tighter with every encounter. Sooner or later we're going to combust, explode.

I can’t wait.

I've kept myself contained for too long.

And the more time I spend with her, talking to her, the more time I spendinsideher, the more I discover that I don’t want to keep myself hidden from her any longer.

“Alessandro! Make me…make me…make me…” Her screams bounce through the kitchen, ringing off the pots and pans echoing through the empty house.

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