He is holding himself still above me. Breathing fast.
“Fuck me!” I gasp.
He doesn’t need to wait anymore. My body has fully accepted him. He fits. I’m more than ready.
He grunts. His hips move. And I’m wailing to the stars and the heavens beyond.
I just came, otherwise I think I’d be blowing a load right now. He feels so fucking good.
Sure, confident thrusts. Rhythmic. Deep. Dragging over all the right places.
He lowers himself over me, pressing our bodies close together.
My hands claw at his back as I sob with the intensity. My body twists and writhes. Everything is all-consuming pleasure and ecstasy.
“Sei.” Thrust. “Mio.” Thrust. “Molly.” Thrust.
A strangled, gurgling cry is my only response. My hips are slamming up to meet him as best I can. Meeting him thrust for thrust.
Sei mio Molly
Fuck. I never knew my Duolingo sessions would be so useful.
You are mine, Molly. You are mine.
He says it again and again. Each word delivered with a thrust. His voice somehow deeper and richer in Italian.
And I explode. The bedroom disappears. There is nothing but blinding white light and a joy so intense it burns. Dario’s cock keeps pounding into me and delivering even more bliss with every single slide.
I cum and cum. And then cum some more. My hands are clawing at his back. My head lifts and my teeth sink into his shoulder through the linen of his shirt.
He grunts, and warm heat fills my insides. His entire body trembles as he orgasms, and it’s nearly enough to send me off again.
My limbs grow lax and warm. I float on a sea of soft contentment. Dimly, I’m aware of Dario easing out of my ass. I whimper at the loss. I’m cold and empty without him.
He lowers my legs and moves off the bed. I hear the sounds of him dealing with the condom, then he is back on the bed with me. His muscular body pressing close to mine.
His fingers slide along my crack. Two slip into my open and used hole. I moan and my hips twitch. I’m hypersensitive after cumming so hard.
“I’m going to finger you until you cum again,” he whispers. “Then I will be hard again and I’m going to fuck you until you pass out.”
I whimper and buck my hips, trying to get his fingers deeper. I will never, ever be able to get enough of him. I will always be hungry for more.
His teeth graze my earlobe, and I yelp. The sting is exquisite.
“You are mine, Molly, and every inch of you is going to know it.”
A filthy noise escapes me as my eyes roll back. I’ve died and gone to heaven. There is no other explanation. No other way this can be real.
Hallelujah
Bring on the afterlife. I’m so ready.
Chapter thirty-four
Dario
Molly is barely coherent. He is a tangled sprawl on the bed. Fucked out. Blissed out. Sated.