Page 113 of Pietro
"Bedroom," she gasps when I let her breathe.
"No." I lift her easily, carrying her to the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook Chicago. "Here first. I want the entire city to see you come apart for me."
"Pietro, someone might?—"
"Let them watch." I set her on her feet, turning her to face the glass. The city lights sparkle below us, and our reflection stares back. "Let them see who you belong to."
My hand slides between her legs, finding her still wet, still ready. The lace of her panties is soaked through, and I groan against her neck.
"Still dripping for me," I murmur, pushing the lace aside. "My cock wasn't enough? You need more?"
"Always need more with you," she admits, pressing back against me.
I work my belt open one-handed, the other still teasing her. "Hands on the glass," I command. "Spread your legs."
She obeys immediately, and the sight of her palms, flat against the window, legs spread, dress bunched around her waist, nearly ends me before we've begun.
I grab the condom I put in my pocket earlier and put it on while pressing her against the glass.
"You're going to watch," I tell her, meeting her eyes in the reflection. "You're going to watch yourself come apart while I fuck you against this window. You're going to see exactly what you look like when you're mine."
I push into her slowly, watching her face in the glass as I fill her. Her mouth falls open, a silent cry, and I have to grit my teeth to maintain control.
"Cazzo, you feel even better than in the car," I growl, starting to move. "So tight, so perfect. Made for my cock."
"Pietro," she moans, her breath fogging the glass.
"What did I say? Watch." I grip her chin, turning her face back to the reflection. "Watch how beautiful you are when I'm inside you."
The sight is intoxicating. Her flushed face, the way her body takes me, the contrast of my darker hands against her pale skin. I increase my pace, and she has to brace harder against the glass to stay upright.
"That's it,bella. Take it. Take everything I give you."
One hand slides around to her front, finding her clit, and she cries out. The sound echoes in my apartment, and I love it. Love that she can't stay quiet, can't hide how good I make her feel.
"Please," she begs, her legs starting to shake. "I'm so close?—"
"Already? We just got here." I slow my movements, making her whine in frustration. "I told you, I'm nowhere near done with you."
"Pietro, please?—"
"You want to come?" I bite down on her shoulder, marking her again. "Then tell me. Tell me how much you love my cock."
"I love it," she sobs immediately, past the point of shame. "Love how you fill me, how you fuck me, how you make me yours?—"
"Good girl." I reward her with exactly what she needs, my fingers working her clit while driving deep. "Come for me. Now."
She shatters beautifully, her whole body convulsing, my name echoing off the windows. I follow her over, unable to hold back any longer, marking her internally as thoroughly as I've marked her skin.
We stay pressed against the glass for a moment, both breathing hard. Then I pull out carefully, turning her in my arms. Her legs are shaking, and I steady her.
"Bed," I say, lifting her into my arms. "Now I get to take my time with you."
"I can't possibly?—"
"Oh, you can. And you will." I carry her to my bedroom, laying her on the black silk sheets. "I'm going to worship every inch of you. I'm going to make you come so many times you will end up sore everywhere."
I strip her slowly, reverently, kissing each new expanse of skin I reveal. Her dress, her ruined panties, her heels—everything goes until she's bare before me, marked and perfect.
