Page 50 of Owned by the Italian Mafia Boss
She lifts her head and blows out a breath, sagging in defeat. “Will you please leave me alone, Carmine? I can’t do this right now.”
“No.” I lift her to her feet, then press her against the wall. There are names written in permanent marker on the blue stall, years of college students embedding their memory here forever. I pin her arms against her sides and hold her close. “I’m sorry.”
“Let me go.” She struggles against me, shoving against my chest.
“No. Stop it. Stop it, Delilah.” I struggle against her as she uses every part of her body against mine. “Delilah!” I raise my voice, and she freezes, sobbing as she leans her head against the wall.
“Carmine, please.” Her fists stay on my chest as she gives in. “I can’t do this with you. You intentionally hurt me the other day. I can’t.”
“Shh, I know. I know I did. Sweetling, I’m so sorry.”
She stares at me with absolute hatred. “Your apologies mean nothing to me because I know you’ll intentionally hurt me again.” Another tear drips down her cheek.
I wipe them away and pin her still, pressing my entire body weight to hers. “I don’t like what you do to me; that’s why I hurt you. That’s why I insulted you. You unravel every barrier I’ve ever created, but I feel…” I deepen my voice as I exhale. “Very deeply for you. I’m sorry,” I say again, holding her face in my hands so gently. I’m afraid she'll break if I press too hard.
I lean in, wondering if she’ll deny me, but she doesn’t try to push me away, so I take that as a good sign. Owning her lips with mine, I pour every ounce of regret into the kiss, hoping she can feel it. I taste the saltiness of her tears, and my cock hardens.
She cries because she hurts, which means she feels something for me.
She sighs against me, relaxing in my arm, meeting my tongue with hers, and the kiss becomes frantic. Her hands grab my blazer, and I grip her ass, lifting her from the ground and wrapping her legs around my waist.
“You aren’t wearing your ring.” I bite her lip hard, showing her how I feel about that.
“I did it to piss you off,” she admits, her hands reaching for my cock.
I grip her hand and pin it against the wall. “The first time I have you, the first time I get to experience your hot fucking cunt will not be in the filth of a college bathroom. I’ll have you in bed where I’ll feast on you for hours, pouring every drop of my come inside you, so I know you’ll get pregnant right away.”
She moans, rocking herself against me. “Carmine.”
“I’ll take care of you,” I say, carefully. “If you’ll allow me.” I know we haven’t done that yet. We have barely held one another at night, but it doesn’t stop me from fantasizing about her body at night, wishing it was against mine. “I’ll be gentle,” I whisper against her ear, nibbling her earlobe. “I don’t want anything in return except your pleasure. All I want is for you to feel good.” The thought makes my cock harden more, the blood rushing south.
Her cheeks are red, and she nibbles her bottom lip with uncertainty.
“But you’ll come while you wear my ring. Where is it?”
“My hoody zip pocket,” she answers breathlessly.
There’s a small pocket above her right. I unzip it, grab the ring that only Delilah can make beautiful, and slip it on her finger.
“That’s better. Never again, Delilah. You are not allowed to ever take off your ring. If you do, you don’t come. Do you understand me?”
She nods fast, her cheeks still wet from her tears, and I clean them off with my tongue, drinking them in. Delilah feels something for me, and I want to fucking taste it.
I nibble my way down her throat. “Do you want me to make you come, Sweetling? Right here. Right now?”
“Yes,” she whimpers, rocking her hips against my cock, and my hands squeeze her hips to get her to stop.
I wrap my hand around her throat and squeeze tight, lust boiling and threatening my impatience. “You better stop doing that, or I’m going to fuck you right now, not giving a damn about the place, Delilah.”
She’s gasping for breath and freezes, pulling her hips away from me for the final time, dragging her heat across my entire length.
“Do you feel what you do to me?” I speak, staring at her lips and kissing them between words. “What you always do to me.” I smooth my hands down her front, cupping her breasts. I moan so she can hear how pleased I am by how perfect they feel in my palms. I don’t lift her shirt because I didn’t ask if I could see them, but I remember them from showering together.
So, fucking perfect; her naked body has haunted my dreams. I’ve awakened in the middle of the night, my cock aching, hot, throbbing, and leaking pre-cum for her. I’d taken myself in my hand and stroked, watching her sleep, coming into my palm with every rise and fall of her chest.
I dip my hand in her leggings and cup her pussy, already so wet and warm, just waiting for me to pay attention to it.
“You’re soaked for me. Have you been in need, Sweetling? You need to tell me when you are so I can take care of you.” I slip my fingers through her silky petals, the dew covering my fingertips, and she moans when I skim over her swollen clit.
