Page 73 of Prince of Vice
The way he says it makes my heart race, and I can feel the heat pooling between my legs. It's torturous waiting for him to give in, but the anticipation is intoxicating.
"Patience, Isabella," he taunts, and then, when I think I can't take it anymore, he finally palms my breast and tweaks my nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure through me. Before I wanted his touch so badly, now he won't stop touching me, and I worry that I might come just from this stimulation alone.
"Primo," I gasp, my breaths coming in short pants. He takes the opportunity to lean forward and capture one nipple in his mouth, biting gently enough to leave marks on my soft flesh.
"I love marking you," he murmurs against my skin. "I'd love to mark you permanently." My mind races, wondering what he means by that, but I don't have time to process because he's pushing me down onto the table. The cold surface against my back contrasts sharply with the heat of his body above me.
"Open your legs for me," he commands, and I obey, spreading my thighs wide and bending my knees to fully expose myself to him. Primo's eyes darken with lust as he admires the view.
"Your pussy is beautiful," he says softly, "but I know it tastes even better."
"Are you going to tease me forever?" I ask, unable to hide the desperation in my voice.
"Maybe," he replies with a smirk. But then his fingers finally graze my pussy, making me moan. "Work your nipples for me while I taste you," he instructs, and I comply, whispering, "Yes, Sir."
"Good girl," he praises me, and I preen at his approval. Then he kneels down, his breath hot on my sensitive folds before he begins to eat my pussy. As his tongue explores me, my thoughts dissolve into pure sensation, and I surrender to the passion building inside me, knowing that this moment is one I'll never forget.
I marvel at the way Primo eats me. His enthusiasm is unmatched, his desire to taste and savor every part of me intoxicating. He's unlike any other lover I've had—the few who have agreed to go down on me treat it as a chore, but not Primo.
"God, you're so good at this," I moan, unable to contain my appreciation.
"Only for you, Isabella," he murmurs against my slick heat, sending shivers up my spine. His tongue enters me with purpose, his fingers working my clit in tandem, leaving me gasping and begging for more.
"Please, let me come," I plead, desperate for release. But he shakes his head, his dark eyes locking onto mine.
"Patience, my beautiful girl." He drives me closer and closer to my edge, my body trembling and my breath coming out in short, ragged gasps. I know I'm not allowed to come yet, but God, it's so hard to hold back.
Suddenly, Primo stands, pulling me down from the table. His hands move roughly over my breasts, fingers digging into my sensitive flesh. He tilts my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze. "Open," he commands with a wicked smile.
I obey, and he spits into my mouth. I drink it down without hesitation, surprising even myself with how much I love being his slut. Primo's grin widens as he sees my reaction. "You truly are a dream come true, Isabella."
"Thank you, Sir," I reply, my voice quivering with both gratitude and arousal. He flips me around, urging me to bend over the conference table. The cool surface presses against my chest as I comply, feeling exposed and vulnerable under his commanding presence.
"Such a perfect view," Primo murmurs, his hand tracing the curve of my spine. I shiver at the contact, anticipation building inside me as I await his next move.
"Please, Sir," I beg once more, needing him to take control and push me over the edge. But even now, teetering on the brink, I know that I am his to command—and I couldn't be happier.
"Prepare yourself, Isabella," Primo whispers in my ear, his breath hot against my skin. "I'm going to fuck you hard against this conference table. Make sure you scream my name loud; I want everyone to know just what a little slut you are for me."
His words make me shiver, and I can feel the heat pooling between my legs. I nod silently, unable to speak as anticipation courses through me.
Taking a step back, Primo surveys me with an appreciative eye. "I love owning you," he confesses, voice low and commanding. "Using your body for my pleasure... The thought of your pussy has always made me hard."
"Please, Sir," I manage to choke out, my heart pounding in my chest. "I need you."
"Good girl," he replies with a smirk, positioning himself behind me. As he enters me, I scream his name, the sensation of him filling me completely overwhelming my senses. But I don't come, despite the desperation that threatens to consume me.
Primo's movements are not slow like last time; they're fast and insistent, each thrust driving me further into the edge of ecstasy. My breasts bounce with the force of his actions, and he slaps and squeezes my ass as leverage for each powerful thrust.
"Your ass feels so good in my hands, Isabella," he growls, his voice laced with lust. "I love the way it looks marked with my prints."
As he spanks me again, I whimper, the pain only heightening my arousal. Primo praises me, his voice a mix of tenderness and authority. "You're a joy to own, Isabella. My perfect little slut."
"Thank you, Sir," I gasp out, my mind reeling from the pleasure coursing through my body. I can't help but marvel at the intensity of this moment, the raw connection between us as he takes control and dominates me. And in the midst of it all, I know that I'm exactly where I want to be—completely under Primo's spell, embracing every part of the darkness we share.
"Are you going to come for me, Isabella?" Primo asks, his voice a low growl.
"Only with your permission, Sir," I reply breathlessly. The tension between us is palpable as he continues to thrust into me relentlessly, my body aching for the sweet release of orgasm.