Page 169 of Bitter Poetry
“Do you want to?”
I nod.
“And me?”
I nod again, my eyes bouncing between his and his bobbing cock.
He smirks, but it drops so fast my head spins, and my stomach takes a slow, hot tumble.
“Hold yourself open for me.”
Open? I can’t concentrate on what he’s saying. I want his hands on me… to come. His cock is still right there, flexing and glistening, and making me pant.
“Your pussy. Put your right hand on it and use your fingers to hold it open. I want to see how wet you are.” He holds up two fingers and makes a V.
Oh God.Who even says things like that? Heat floods my cheeks.
This is sopremeditated.
Exposing in ways more than being displayed on his coffee table.
“Go ahead, sweetheart. Show me what the thought of wrapping your pretty lips around my cock is doing to you.”
It’s awkward holding myself up on one elbow. My hand is shaking as I reach forward. Another jolt goes through me as my fingers connect with my slippery folds, and fresh heat fills my cheeks. I’m so wet it makes it difficult. The look of blazing approval in his eyes has me melting.
He grips the base of his cock, squeezing it, pointing it straight up. It’s a deep purple-red and glistening. All I can think about is how good it feels inside me and how desperately I want to experience that again.
“You look slick, Carmela. Your little pussy hole is all wet and ready for me, isn’t it baby?”
Oh God, please.
“I made Christian a promise. I can’t break it now, can I?”
He rises and leans over me, planting his hand on the coffee table.
My blood temperature goes through the roof.
“Ah, the things I want to do to you, Carmela. You’d be terrified if you could glimpse inside my mind at even half of them. Now, stay very still, sweetheart. Looking at your filthylittle fuck hole, all pink and wet, has gotten me primed. This won’t take long.”
He spits into his palm and, fisting his cock, begins to jack up and down.
Butterflies invade my stomach. My pussy clenches so savagely that I feel slick arousal trickle out.
“Look at you, all spread out for me. Such a filthy girl. So perfect. So desperate for dick. You want it, don’t you?”
I nod. My head is full of white noise, my eyes glued to his cock so close to where I need it. Christian fucked me when Dante wasn’t there. Why would he even make this stupid rule? Why would Dante care about it?
The head of his cock brushes against my clit as he pumps. I’m trembling with the strain of holding up on one elbow while holding myself open.
“Ah, ah, don’t move, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want me to accidently fuck my dick into you.” He slides the head right next to my entrance, taunting me—taunting us both.
My breathing is labored—so is his. He’s so close, his hips moving slightly so that he slides against me as he jacks. When I glance up, I find his face is a stark mask of pleasure and agony.
“Eyes down, Carmela. I want you to watch me come.”
My eyes slam down.
He growls low in his chest and a hot splash of his cum paints my pussy.
