Page 75 of Twisted Roses

His mouth travels from my lips, over my jaw, down my neck. His teeth bite into the delicate skin, not enough to draw blood, but enough that it’s a pinch of pain. I wrap my arms around him and offer more of my neck for the tasting. My mouth falls open in a breathless gasp and my eyes roll up to the ornamental ceiling, staring absently at the skillful ridges and crown molding.

Salvatore shoves aside the deep neckline of my dress. My breasts spill out into the waiting clench of his hands.

He’s ravenous—kissing, sucking, groping. All at once. All with the greed of a man who can’t possibly have enough.

A current of lust shudders through me. I part my legs and arch my back, thrusting my breasts into him.

He sucks one into his mouth, biting and tugging. My nipple aches, caught between his teeth, impossibly stiff and so sensitive that I almost come on this stimulation alone.

I’m already a goner. I don’t need an answer why I’m his.

He’s right—he’s showing me I am.

Salvatore claws at the long tulle skirt of my dress until he’s forced a path underneath. My panties are snatched away and his fingers plunge into my pussy.

I’mdrenched. So wet, I can feel how slippery I am.

He groans and buries his face into the crook of my neck, pumping his fingers in and out of me. He plays with my pussy and toys with my clit.

I can’t control myself. My hips grind into the palm of his hand, asking for more.

Salvatore’s as impatient as I am. He unbuckles his belt and pulls out his thick, heavy dick like it’s a weapon.

It might as well be. He’s about to conquer me. Make me his in every sense of the word.

“You want to know how I feel?” he growls, thrusting into me whole. I scream out and my legs spread wider to accommodate him in between them. He draws back, his hand snaking up to my throat.

When I don’t answer quickly enough, too overwhelmed by how full I feel, he squeezes. He applies pressure to the sides of my throat, the dominance in his grip thrilling me. The intimacy of it as he feels my life pulse beneath his fingers. He and he alone dictating the air I breathe.

I catch on that he’s awaiting my answer and moan out, “Yes… please… yes…”

He thrusts into me so hard the desk scrapes backward on the marble floor. “I feel insane with jealousy when I see another man have the audacity to put his hands on you. Even lay his eyes on you.”

Another wanton moan slips out of me at how deep he goes, and the passionate words that accompany his thrusts. I lean my arms back and bend my legs at his sides. My Louboutin heels dangle off the tips of my feet. The left one falls altogether, clattering to the floor.

Salvatore only fucks me harder. He squeezes my throat and presses his forehead to mine. His eye contact so unbreakable, so intense, I’m entranced. My eyes are on his, in a state of total surrender to him.

He continues, each thrust like a punch into me. “I feel rage when I think about anybody trying to hurt you. How I’d like to rip their throat out and spill their blood.”

My mouth hangs slack as pleasure bundles up inside me, rising to new impossible heights. I can feel it coming—the warm tingle that radiates from my pussy before spreading through the rest of my body.

I’m unraveling, panting for air. I couldn’t give less of a fuck as to where we are and who may overhear. If one of the couple hundred people only a floor below wander up and catch us.

This is pure, unbidden passion. The kind that makes you stop giving a damn about anything else in the moment. Only the physical pleasure he brings me matters.

“I feel like I’m in heaven when I’m balls deep in your sweet little pussy, like now,” he says. He chases my mouth with his own, punctuating his statement with his deepest stroke yet. His kiss just as deep, he teases my tongue.

He knows just how to kiss me. Just how to fuck me and make me tremble with pleasure.

“And when I come inside you,” he says, dragging his hips back, “it’s like we’re bonded for life. There’s no going back.Ever.”

“Oh!”

I squeal as he sinks into me all over again. His hungry kisses and dominant hands are everywhere.

He fucks me ’til the desk wobbles under our weight, from the power behind his thrusts. He’s driving me to the edge, pushing me to the brink. His dick fills me up as he fondles my aching breasts and leaves marks all over from how hard he clenches them.

He returns to fisting my curls, forcing my eyes open and onto him.

---