Page 66 of Liberated By Sin
My mouth parted as I slid down, the stretch slightly more painful than I’d anticipated.
“Take your time,” he whispered, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles on my thigh.
Biting my lip, I let myself fall a little farther. “You’re too goddamn big,” I joked with a breathy chuckle.
Santino reached up and fisted my hair. The sting on my scalp made my pussy throb and slide just a bit more.
“You can take me, baby,” he said with a growl against my neck as he kissed and suckled. “I know you can. You know why?”
I threw my head back and breathed a response, “Why?”
“Because you were made for me.” More. “Your pussy, mine.” More. “You’re everything I never knew I was looking for.”
“Fuck,” I moaned as I took every last thick inch until he bottomed out inside me. He filled me out so good, the sweet pain curving my lips into a smile. “I did it.”
“You did.” Kissing me, he tightened his grip on my hair. “Now, ride what’s yours.”
“Like that?” I teased, rocking my hips.
Santino tugged my head back, and his groan vibrated against my nipple. “Just like that.”
“How about like this?” I rose and fell over his hard cock, the pain rolling into waves of delicious pleasure.
“Sii mia per sempre,Amara. Always mine.”
“Santi,” I whined, my strokes faster. “Fuck me, please.”
Gripping my hips, with another feral growl, he thrust into me, meeting every descent until I was bouncing in his lap on the verge of an explosive orgasm. I whined louder with every slide against his shaft when his piercing hit a sensitive spot inside me.
The G-spot. Thatwasa thing.
Santino’s hands were on my ass cheeks, and I wouldn’t be surprised to see their outline in a bruise in the morning. I grinned at the thought.
“You feel so good. So fucking good.”
“Fuck, Santi…I’m—” One more drag of that sweet piece of jewelry, in and out, and I was done.
Shattered.
I crumpled over his shoulder, teeth opened against his skin as I cried out. The tighter I contracted around him, the harder he slammed into me until he followed me over the edge. Santino wrapped his arms around me, grunting as his thrusts slowed until we were both a panting, boneless mess.
The warmth of the morning sun touched our damp bodies. We’d yet to sleep, but neither wanted to let go of this moment. He pulled me close to his side and caressed my shoulder, lips pressed to my hairline.
“We didn’t use protection. Should we be worried?”
“No, we shouldn’t be.”
He didn’t press the issue, and my belly fluttered, knowing I had his trust.
If there was anything predictable in my life, it was my cycle. As a dancer, it was imperative to keep track. However, nothing was guaranteed, and we certainly needed to be more responsible next time.
Next time, I thought with a smile.
The fears of what that moment would be like seemed almost silly. Justified as they were. While my trauma would never leave me, I felt a little lighter than yesterday.
“How do you feel?” he asked, as if reading my mind.
“Who knew something so small could bring so much pleasure.”