Page 56 of Unhinged Little Angel

“You…” I lick my lips and measure my words. A little voice in the back of my head whispers that I could be wrong, that even if I’m right it doesn’t mean he won’t hurt me anyway. But then a louder voice drowns them out, the echo of Salvatore’s voice ringing in my ears like a shout.

“Haven’t you figured it out yet, Angioletto? I would do anything for you.”

I lean closer until I can feel his warm breath on my lips, and I rest my forehead against his.

“You love me,” I whisper, certainty flooding me as soon as the words leave my mouth.

He laughs again, sliding his hands up my back and under my shirt to pull me even closer until his lips are less than an inch from mine and I have no doubt he can feel the little tremors ricocheting through my body.

“I do, Angel. I really do.”

I’m not sure if I finally close that last sliver of space between us or if he does, but the words are still reverberating on his tongue when our mouths crash together. Forget oxygen or food, forget everything, all I need to survive is Salvatore’s tongue snaking around mine, his hands on me like he owns me, and breathless moans caught between our lips.

“Fuck me,” I gasp. “Fill me up, take me apart, make me scream your name until my throat is raw and my voice is hoarse. Please, Sir, please, please,please.”

The animal sound that rumbles past his lips just before he pulls me in for another deep, tongue-heavy kiss raises goose bumps all over my heated skin and makes my cock swell and pulse with need.

“How can I deny you anything when you beg so nicely?” He nips at my chin. “Kneel facing the back of the couch,” he commands, with a little swat to my ass to get me moving.

I scramble to do what he says. I’ll be a mouthy, difficult brat again later because it’s fun and I know he likes it as much as I do, but this time, I just want to feel all of the promises he’s made that I haven’t listened to until now imprinted on my skin with every touch and kiss.

I kneel like he said, with my arms folded on the back of the couch, careful not to overextend my healing shoulder. He slides his hands under my shirt again, pushing it up, then drags a line of open-mouthed kisses down the length of my spine, leaving damp spots cooling on my skin and sparking electricity in my nerve endings by alternating sharp nips and greedy licks in an indiscernible pattern. My legs tremble and my cock aches as he works his way down without any hint of urgency.

“I’m glad we finally understand each other, Angioletto,” he murmurs, reaching around to trail his fingers along my belly as he kisses me. “I was starting to worry that I might have to tie you to my bed to keep you from running straight to the lawyer to file for a divorce once this whole thing is settled.” He reaches my nipples with his fingers while he dips his tongue into the little dimples at the base of my spine. “And make no mistake, I had no intention of ever letting you go.”

The shiver that runs through me has as much to do with the tease of his fingertips over my peaked, aching nipples as it does the comforting bondage of his promise. I’m his… and he’s mine. He’ll fight any monsters I need him to, and he’ll love all of the beautiful, terrifying, dark parts of me for the rest of our lives. And I’ll do the same for him.Always.

His featherlight touch on my nipples turns into a sharp tug that drags a moan from my throat and makes my cock drool.

“Please,” I gasp.

His chuckle is dark and teasing this time, and I’m fucking living for it. He tugs on my nipples again and the sharp ache goes straight to my cock. There’s a sweet kind of torture in giving allof myself to Salvatore. My heart, my soul, my body, my pleasure. It’s all his now, and if he decides to break me, all I’ll do is beg for more because I know he’ll never hurt me in ways I don’t want.

A constant stream of whimpers and whines fall from my lips, my hips jerking helplessly as he takes his time teasing and pinching my nipples. By the time he draws his hands down my belly again, my nipples feel puffy and oversensitive, rubbing against my rucked-up shirt. I’m wearing the shorts I bought at that tourist trap in the desert with nothing underneath. He hums in approval as he tugs them down around my thighs, a strand of precum clinging to them.

Without my shorts there’s no friction at all on my throbbing cock, but that doesn’t stop my hips from jerking in the vain hope of some relief. Salvatore nudges my legs apart, and my eyes roll back at the hot puff of his breath against my ass cheeks.

“Oh, please, Sir, lick me, get me all wet and soft with your tongue and then fuck me until I can’t even remember my own name. Please,” I pant, shoving my ass towards him shamelessly.

He palms my ass cheeks, parting them to let a gust of cool air hit my already twitching hole. The chill is quickly replaced with another one of his hot breaths, this time right over my sensitive pucker. I can feel the humidity of his mouth, his fingers bruisingly hard on my ass cheeks, the teasing scrape of his stubble against the sensitive skin of my crease.

“Tell me you love me.” The words are quiet, but the command in them thunders in my ears.

Of course I love him. I was falling in love with him long before I was ready to let myself see it. But the bratty part of me I’m finally ready to acknowledge is dying to know how he plans to torture the information out of me if I don’t answer him right away.

“Sal,” I whine, wiggling my ass.

He growls and notches the dry pad of his thumb against my rim.

“If you want my tongue, beautiful, just say the words.” He presses a little harder, making the sensitive skin of my hole burn with the friction of it.

“I want your tongue.” Even breathless and so horny I can hardly think, an impish laugh bursts from my lips.

Salvatore growls again. “Not those words.”

He pushes his thumb inside and I wail, clenching around the unlubed sting of the invasion while simultaneously arching my back in the hope of getting his thumb deeper. My cock bobs and dribbles, splattering droplets of precum all over the back cushion of the leather couch. He hooks his thumb on the bottom edge of my rim and tugs just a little, drawing another gasp from my throat. And then I hear the metallic clang of his belt buckle, the whirr of his zipper, the rustle of his clothes.

“If you think threatening to fuck me dry is a punishment and not an enticement, you don’t know me as well as I thought.” I clench around his thumb again.

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