Page 100 of Bitter Poetry
He steps right up to me. I shake my head frantically as he strokes his cock from root to tip once and lines up.
Ettore is still talking.
Christian’s head lifts and his eyes hold mine.
I shake my head and mouth,“Don’t!”My palm plants in the center of his chest and I shove, but I might as well be pushing a boulder up a hill.
He grins and pushes inside me in one glorious stroke that awakens sweet nerves the length of my channel and nearly tips me straight into freefall.
“Are you still there, Carmela?”Ettore asks, the first words I’ve understood in several minutes.
I can’t answer. I’m too busy biting my lip against the risk of moaning.
Christian slides out with agonizing slowness and pushes back in, his dark eyes locked with mine the whole time.
Fear and tension coil inside me.
I need to respond to Ettore, but words are beyond me. My breathing turns choppy. I’m going to come. I can’t stop it. It’s like trying to stave off sin with a fake prayer.
Christian takes the phone from me and tosses it into the sink where it lands with a clatter. His fingers sink into my hair, and his lips are on mine, kissing me deeply as he pumps into me, filling the emptiness.
I’m going to die. Ettore is probably ordering his men to storm the house. And I don’t care so long as I come first.
I drown in the kiss, lost but for the way his body moves against mine and the perfection that is him inside me, stroking me ever higher. His thumb slides over my clit, pressing against the sensitive bundle of nerves, and that’s all it takes to send me convulsing around him.
“That’s my perfect little cum slut,” he says, lips against my ear. “Take your medicine like a good girl.”
He groans and stills. I can feel his cock pulsing and his hot flood filling me inside as my pussy continues to flutter and quake.
Reality slices through the euphoria, sharp and unwelcome.
“Oh God!” I shove at his chest. My body shudders through another sharp wave of pleasure. What the hell is wrong with me? I’m about to die, and I feel like I’m coming all over again.
He doesn’t budge. Cupping my chin gently like I’m not on the brink of self-destruction. “Babe, he’d hung up on you.”
“He did?” I want to believe him. My heart is still pounding out of my chest, my pussy is locked so tight around him, I can feel the blood pulsing. “You didn’t think to mention it before?!” I slap him.
A red stain spreads across his cheek. Regrets swamp me. This isn’t me, lashing out.
He gathers my hand in his hand, lifts my stinging palm to his lips, and kisses the hurt away.
The adrenaline drop is brutal, leaving me weak all over and shaking. “I’m losing my mind.”
“Well, don’t lose it yet. Dante wants to see you.”
My pussy squeezes over his softening length still inside me.
He chuckles. “Guess that answers that. Put his necklace back on, yeah?”
Christian goes back downstairs, and I clean up and get dressed.
I put the necklace on.
No soldiers come for me.
In fact, everything is confusingly normal.
On the outside, at least.
