Page 24 of Gardener for the Mafia

We don’t stop. We don’t care.

The only thing we care about is each other.

He pulls down his pants and I stare down at our bodies smashed together, every inch of him lined with hard muscles and a fine layer of hell hot sweat coating his carved form.

He reaches down and grips his manhood, stroking the engorged head against my lips, up one and then down the other, teasing me as he strokes it in small circles around my clit.

His precome slathers my aching pussy, and his cock makes a twitching movement as I moan, as though eager to drive up inside of me.

“I’m going to burst you open,” he whispers, leaning down, our noses brushing as we stare directly into each other’s eyes. “I’m going to drench my cock in your hymen’s sweet juices. And then I’m going to use it as lube and fuck you until both of us are so tired we can barely move.”

I grip onto his shoulders, digging my fingernails in.

I feel them bending under the unyielding force of his god like body, never giving an inch, solid fucking rock.

“Do it, my king,” I moan, with a hint of sass.

He smirks, before turning savage again. “Of course, my queen,” he growls.

He arches his back and drives his cock up inside of me, the massive spear pressing against the walls of my pussy and feeling like he’s splitting me completely open.

I never guessed I’d feel so full, as though Lorenzo DeLuca is stuffing every part of me, my pussy walls stretching and my hole aching as it wiggles to accommodate him.

Deeper and deeper, he pushes, until his balls are flush against my ass and he’s buried to his soaked hot hilt.

Then – oh, God, yes – the discomfort slides away and heavenly sap flows through me, soothing and relaxing my body.

Then it flares, violently and steamily, as my pussy screams out under the pressure of his cock.

I arch my hips, shifting, my pussy buzzing with the closeness of him.

“I can feel you opening for me,” he whisper growls. “Your body’s blossoming like a fucking flower, and I’m about to make you rose red.”

“Do it, baby,” I moan. “It doesn’t hurt anymore. I can take it.”

He smirks. “My brave little queen. Do you really think you can take what I’ve got to give you?”

I lean up and bite his lip, arching my eyebrow, ignoring the still present nerves in favor of sassy sauciness. Nerves still thrum and writhe, but screw them.

I’m done being paranoid all the time.

It’s time to live.

“I can take it, bad boy,” I fire. “But can you give it?”

“My innocent little queen,” he growls, sliding out and then pumping back into me with a hard thrust, his manhood pounding deep inside of me.

“Like that,” I moan. “Oh, jeez. Yeah, Lorenzo. Just like that.”

I shift my body up and down in time with his thrusts.

He slams into me, driving his cock up into my body like a warrior thrusting his spear, the inflamed end sending hisses of smoke and fire all throughout my lower half.

I feel them spreading, enveloping me, heat and orgiastic flurries captivating me down to the frickin’ atom.

I let my moans go as I bounce up and down, kissing his sweaty neck and raking my fingernails down his back. I pump my hips faster and faster, focusing everything I have on the buzzing in my pussy, the way his cock seems to pulse and throb inside of me.

His face is torn as he stares down at me, like it’s taking everything he has not to just explode and fill me with gallons and gallons of his seed. I imagine him coming for days, pumping me until his frothy white perfection is gushing like a waterfall out of my mouth, only stopping when every part of me is filled with his come.

“Fuck, these need milk coming out of them,” he growls, leaning down and biting my nipple softly. He caresses it with his teeth, and then sucks, groaning. “I can’t wait to taste your sweet fertile sap.”

“Oh, baby,” I moan. “But I think you’ll be too greedy. What about the children?”

He laughs and fucks me harder, the bed creaking underneath us, the legs juddering around on the floor and making scrape noises.

“Oh, fuck,” he whispers, slowing down the motion of his thrusts.

“What? What?” I ask, voice breathless, my pussy still hot and close, the pressure threatening to implode.

“Look,” he growls.

He slides out of me and palms my pussy, raising his hand to show me the vivid redness. It catches the light, glistening vermillion and brilliant on his fingertips.

“And it’s all for me,” he groans.

He opens his mouth and sucks it from his fingers, closing his eyes to savor the taste like a sommelier tasting a fine wine.

“Fucking perfect,” he whispers, reaching down and palming me again.

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