Page 29 of Double Trouble for the Mafia Prince
My hand slides down her thigh again, anchoring both of us.
The other moves to her hip, gripping tight as I guide myself against her entrance, the tip thick and ready, dragging along her slick folds as she shifts back instinctively to meet me.
I make her wait.
Just for a second.
Long enough to remind her who decides the rhythm.
Then I thrust in, slow and deep.
She gasps, one hand flying to the edge of the table as I fill her all the way, the stretch sudden and overwhelming.
Her body clenches around me, impossibly tight, and I hold there for a breath, savoring the feeling of her adjusting to every inch.
"Still with me?" I ask, my voice thick.
She nods, barely able to respond. I smile, dark and slow, then pull back and drive in again, setting a rhythm that builds not in speed but in intensity.
Each stroke is measured, the drag of my cock inside her turning every thrust into an unspoken demand.
Her moans start soft, then sharpen as I slam into her again, and again, one hand fisting in the fabric at her waist, the other gripping her hair to pull her back just enough for her spine to curve deeper.
"Say it," I murmur, my breath hot against her neck. "Say you needed this."
She shakes her head at first, a flicker of pride.
So I grip her tighter and thrust harder, rougher, the sound of our bodies colliding echoing off the walls.
Her cry slips out then, broken and desperate.
"Say it," I repeat, lower now, into the place just behind her ear. "Or I stop."
She chokes on the words, but they come. "I needed it."
I groan, pleasure sparking low and hard in my spine, and I give her what she asked for.
The rhythm grows faster, deeper, the table rocking beneath us now, every slap of skin on skin making her body jolt forward, only to be caught again by my grip.
She’s drenched around me, each stroke a slick, searing drag that makes my jaw clench and my thighs tense.
And just when I feel her begin to rise again, that trembling in her legs, that helpless tilt of her hips—just when she’s on the edge—I tighten my grip on her ass, pull back slowly, then shove in deeper than before.
Her scream rips free, her body convulsing around me as the orgasm takes her again, harder this time.
Her thighs quiver, and then wet heat splashes down my pelvis, soaking both of us.
She’s never done that before.
I know it by the shock in her voice, by the way she tries to pull away, mortified.
"Fuck," I mutter, the word half prayer, half growl.
My hand flies to her ass, a sharp slap ringing out. "You’ll come when I tell you. And you won’t ever hide it from me again."
She moans through clenched teeth, her whole body quaking, and I don’t let her come down.
I grip her hips tighter and keep going, the wet drag inside her now so intense it feels like madness.
