Page 19 of Mafia King: Matteo
“You’re wet for me,” I murmur against her cheek. My mouth descends on hers, ravaging her plump lips. She meets me with equal intensity, and her breathing quickens. I move my fingers in and out of her pussy while rubbing her nub with my thumb.
“Ah,” she moans, pulling her lips away from me as she takes a breath.
“Do you like this?”
“Hmm.”
“What does my Angel want?”
“I want you to fuck me.”
I suck on her breasts and then move to her hard nipple. The car is warm. I love the fact that her body responds to me without having to touch her. She was dripping for me the minute our eyes met.
I can’t point fingers. My cock was hard the minute she stepped out of the store.
“I don’t have a condom,” I say. “I’m clean.”
“I’m on the pill.”
I’ve always practiced safe sex and worn condoms. It’s my way to avoid pregnancy and getting trapped in a marriage. With Angelica, my need to feel her skin against mine, without protection, supersedes precaution. I’m so excited my cock is ready to explode.
I pull my fingers out and place them in her partially open mouth. She sucks on them, and it’s sexy as hell.
I position her so she’s flat on the seat. Her boobs are on full display. With one foot planted on the floor and the other foot on the seat, I angle myself over her and line up my cock with her pink pussy. I gently slide into her and feel every muscle squeeze around me. God, she’s tight.
Using my leg as leverage, I thrust deeper. She grabs the door and the back of the seat to brace herself, but it’s useless. There’s nothing to hold. Instead, she clings to my shoulders, her nails digging into my skin as I fuck her hard and harder.
Her hands clamp onto my shoulders. Her nails are leveraged as I continue to thrust into her. She moves over the slippery leather. I continue to pound her with my huge cock. She wails, making a loud and extended “Ahs.” She writhes under me as she climaxes. Her body consumes me. Her pussy clenches around my cock. When she’s finished with one last shudder, she opens her eyes. I meet her gaze. I explode, filling her with my seed.
I collapse, careful not to put all my weight on her. My legs are shot. Once I’ve regained my breath, I lean backward and grab white square napkins from the bar. I gently clean her and dispose of the napkins.
She pulls her skirt down and straightens herself, looking for her clothing.
“Where can I take you?” I ask.
“Out to dinner.”
I look at her in question, contemplating a date. She gives me an impish smile that turns me inside out.
“That would mean we’d no longer have hot, meaningless sex,” I respond.
“Don’t you just hate that?” she replies as she quickly dresses, and I search for my shirt.
“I’d hate for you to see who I really am. I might be different at night.”
“Unless you’re a vampire, I doubt it.”
I chuckle.
“That’s an intriguing offer—dinner. I’ll consider it.”
“Great. You can drop me off at 59th Street.”
“I can drop you off at your place,” I offer. I know where she lives. But that would be presumptuous of me to intrude on her perceived anonymity.
“And ruin chance encounters?”
“You have a point.”
