Page 57 of Unhinged Little Angel

He lets out another one of those rumbling chuckles. “Oh no, Angel. If you can’t either safeword or tell me what I already know is true, I’ll just get off myself to the pretty sight of your tight little hole around my thumb, and you can spend the night with blue balls.”

I whine and cant my hips again, managing to get his thumb to barely brush my prostate and tug at my rim a little more.

“Lick me first and then I’ll say it.”

His belt buckle rattles again, and he lets out a groan. Is he really jerking himself off?

“It’s not a negotiation.” The head of his cock bumps against the back of my thigh and I can feel the bunch of his foreskin as he strokes himself. “Last chance. Tell me what I want to hear.”

My cock spasms, threatening to get off just from the sound of Salvatore touching himself and the teasing pressure of his thumb inside me.

“Fuck, Salvatore. I love you. I loved you when I still thought you were like everyone else, I loved you when I raged at you and accused you of trying to have your way with me, and I fucking love you now.”

He groans louder and for a second I wonder if he just came with his hand on his own cock listening to my messy, imperfect declaration. But then his mouth is on me. He laps at my hole with his hot, wet tongue, thrusting his thumb deeper with his saliva easing the sting. He sucks and nibbles on my rim, then shoves his tongue inside me alongside his thumb, feasting on me, devouring me, making me sloppy with his spit running down to my balls.

“I love you,” I pant, rocking my hips to grind against his face. “I love you. I love you.”

He growls and moans, each sound vibrating against my rim and tightening around my balls. And then his tongue and his thumb are both gone, leaving me achingly empty, babbling pleas and broken whimpers until I feel the press of his cockhead where I need it most.

He reaches around me and wraps his hand around my shaft.

“Oh fuck,” I groan.

“Don’t you dare come before I’m inside of you,” he warns, stroking me with one hand while he plucks at my nipples again with the other, playing me like I’m his favorite instrument, one that can only pant and beg and cry his name with the right flick of his fingers or twist of his wrist.

My whole body quakes and I clench my teeth against the orgasm that draws closer and closer to the surface. A steady stream of precum gushes from my cock with every stroke now, and Salvatore loosens his grip, slides his hand up around mycrown, and gathers the slick offering into his palm. And then his hand disappears altogether and I hear the distinct wet sound of his hand on his own cock.

I moan again and before I’ve even finished the sound, he presses forward to fill me.

“You’re mine, sweet Angel.” The hoarseness in his voice is at odds with the gentleness of his words as he digs his fingers into my hips and slams home in a single deep stroke. “Mine to protect, mine to love, mine to pleasure and tease and worship.” He punctuates each declaration with a jarring thrust.

I’m nothing but a deliriously blissful rag doll slumped over the back of the couch, held up by Salvatore’s hands on me and animated by the hard rhythm of his cock plunging deep inside me over and over again, dragging over my prostate with each thrust, grinding against my fluttering rim again and again.

“I won’t ever let you go.” He kisses the back of my neck the same way he did along my spine, hot and wet and claiming.

“Never,” I murmur in a daze. “Till death do us part.”

“That’s right, Angioletto.” He grunts with satisfaction and nudges my legs even wider with his knees so he can fuck me deeper. “Till death do us part. Now come on my cock like I know you’re desperate to.”

As if his permission is the only thing my body needed, a violent shudder racks me and my inner muscles clench tight around him, sending shockwaves of dizzying pleasure through me. I think I scream his name, but I’m too far gone to even know. I’m nothing but sparking nerve endings and putty in Salvatore’s hands, my cum painting the couch in thick white stripes as my release goes on and on, bolstered by his stroking hands and his cock still moving inside me.

When I’m sure there isn’t another drop of cum left in my balls, he groans, low and guttural, and his cock starts to pulse inside me. The hot flood of his release sets off another roundof gasping, clawing pleasure as my cock spasms and jerks with nothing left to shoot. And then I slump forward, my lungs burning and my muscles nothing but jelly.

Salvatore holds me up until his cock slips out, and a gush of cum rushes down the backs of my thighs. The couch isn’t exactly made for people to lie down, but that doesn’t stop him from finding a way to arrange me on top of him, my softening cock against his, sweaty skin against sweaty skin, and my head on his shoulder.

There are things I still want to say to him, and I’m sure he still has questions of his own, but my eyelids get heavy, and the steady rhythm of his breaths quickly lulls me to sleep.

Chapter 22

SALVATORE

I’m not sure how long I lie with my bare ass sweating on the leather and Dante snoring on top of me. Maybe it’s an hour, maybe three or four. It’s enough time to sort out all the things Dante told me and then replay the throaty hitch in his voice when he moaned that he loved me over and over again while I tongued his perfect little hole.

His stomach growls loudly and he starts to stir, pulling me out of my own trancelike state of not exactly sleep, but temporary peace.

“Fuck, I’m hungry,” he mumbles, trying to sit up and putting too much pressure on his injured shoulder. He winces and I grunt, sitting up and taking him with me before he can hurt himself in his groggy stupor. “What time is it?”

“Late. The Chinese place down the street should still be open though. Do you want me to order us something?”

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