Page 80 of Captured Fantasy

“Don’t get too full,” he said. “I still plan on fucking you all night.”

“Promise me not to do anything reckless, Cosimo?”

He sighed, taking a sip of whiskey and setting it aside. “I promise, but only for you.”

“I don’t want to fuck Federico, you know,” I reminded him.

His jaw tightened. “Let’s not talk about it anymore tonight.”

Silence fell for a long time as we ate and I worried that he was angry. But when he set aside his empty plate, there was nothing but desire burning in his gaze. He pulled me onto his lap facing him, resting his big hands on my hips.

“What do you want, baby?” he said.

My mind went back to a dirty thought I’d been entertaining for a while. For a moment, I hesitated, unsure if he would judge me for what I wanted.

I banished my fear—Cosimo had never judged me for anything.

“I want you to fuck me and…film it,” I whispered.

His brows rose sharply and his cock went hard against my ass. “You want to make a sex tape. With me? Now?”

My nipples were already tight and hot, rubbing against the inside of his t-shirt. “I’ve never done anything like that before and it turned me on so much when you took a picture of me. The idea of it gets me so wet…I just want to try it out once. And I don’t care if you keep it for...when I’m not here.”

He studied me for a moment and the corner of his mouth turned up. “You want to watch me fuck you, don’t you?”

I nodded, flushing.

“You like pretending you’re such a good girl, Mrs. Russo,” he mused. “With all your frills and lace. Then you go and ask me to do shit like this to you.”

“Is that what I am to you? Just a good girl?” I whispered.

He slipped his hand between my thighs and traced my entrance, still damp with his cum. His gaze burned right through me like a live wire.

“You’re my little whore, baby,” he said.

I was desperate for him, my whole body tingling in anticipation, as we went to the bedroom. Cosimo lifted my shirt and laid it aside, picking me up naked and laying me down on my back. He shoved down his boxers and crawled atop me. It felt strange, almost awkward, but for some reason that turned me on even though we hadn’t started filming ourselves yet.

“Faces in view or not?” he asked.

“What do you think?”

He considered it for a moment. “I prefer to see your face, but I understand if you don’t want it visible.”

“Let’s do it then,” I said, desperately wet and empty. My brain wasn’t working and I didn’t care because my body was alive.

He set his phone in the windowsill and I watched him hit the record button.

He made his way to me slowly and I tore my eyes from the image of our naked bodies on the screen and looked up at him. His cock was hard and heavy, twitching with need and already dripping with his arousal.

He wanted this as much as I did.

I flipped onto my stomach, arcing my back to present my pussy to him. I felt his weight shift and he spat, rubbing his saliva between my legs. I hoped desperately the camera caught the way he plied my clit and made my thighs tremble. His hand slid up to my hip and he guided himself to my entrance, pushing his cock inside my tender pussy.

We both gasped and stilled. His length was heavy and I felt it pulse, hot at my entrance. For some reason, being recorded made my body ten times more sensitive to his touch. I moaned aloud as he drew back and thrust back in, warming me with short, shallow pulses. My clit was swollen, grinding against the bed as he fucked up into me.

“You want to come, baby?” he growled, his mouth hot on the back of my neck.

“Yes, fuck, yes, daddy,” I moaned.

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