Chapter 5 Santino #2
Her lips part. For a second, I think she’s going to. I think she’s going to shove me back, slap me. But then her tongue darts out, wetting her lower lip, and her eyes darken.
“Make me,” she whispers.
That’s all it takes.
"You're not walking away, you’re playing a dangerous game, Pia," I murmur, my voice low and rough. I lean in again, close enough to feel her breath on my lips. "Do you know what I'm capable of?"
She swallows hard, but her chin stays high. "I'm not afraid of you, Santino," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "Here I am, I’m not moving."
I kiss her harder this time. Not gentle. Not slow. Not anything resembling control.
My hand slams into her hair, fingers tangling in those dark waves, gripping tight enough to make her gasp.
Her lips part under mine, and I take advantage, my tongue sweeping in to claim her.
She tastes like sin and salvation, like everything I’ve ever wanted and everything I’ve sworn to destroy.
Her hands fly up—one fisting in my shirt, the other pressing against my chest like she’s trying to push me away.
She doesn’t. She pulls me closer, her nails digging into the fabric, into my skin beneath, like she’s trying to crawl inside me and never come out.
A broken sound tears from her throat, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.
Her body arches into mine, soft and needy for the briefest second—just long enough to remind me that beneath all that fire, all that defiance, she’s human. And she wants me. Even if she hates herself for it.
I crash into her again, my mouth sealing over hers, my tongue plunging inside. She moans into the kiss, a deep, guttural sound that vibrates through my entire body. Her hands are in my hair now, gripping, pulling, like she’s trying to climb me. Like she can’t get close enough.
I can’t either.
I need more.
I need everything.
My free hand slides down her side, over the curve of her hip, gripping tight before I yank her against me.
She gasps as her stomach presses against my cock, the heat of her searing through the layers of fabric between us.
I grind into her, unable to stop myself, and she moans, a broken, needy sound that makes my vision blur.
“Fuck,” I groan against her lips, my voice raw. “You feel that? You feel what you do to me?”
She doesn’t answer. Can’t. Because I’m kissing her again, deeper this time, my tongue fucking her mouth like I wish I was fucking her cunt. Her legs part slightly, just enough that I can slide my thigh between hers, pressing up, up, until I feel the heat of her through the thin fabric of her dress.
She’s wet.
So fucking wet.
She whimpers, her hips rolling against my thigh, seeking friction. I give it to her, grinding up, my cock throbbing in time with the movement. Her nails rake down my back, over my ass, gripping tight as she rides my thigh, her breath coming in sharp, desperate gasps.
“That’s it,” I growl, my lips trailing down her throat. “Grind that pretty cunt against me. Let me feel how wet you are.”
She moans, her head falling back against the wall, giving me better access. I bite down on the sensitive skin where her neck meets her shoulder, and she cries out, her hips stuttering.
“Santino—” she gasps, her voice breathless. “Please—”
“Please what?” I murmur against her skin, my hand sliding up to palm her breast through her dress. She’s full, heavy, the nipple already hard beneath my touch. I squeeze, just hard enough to make her whimper, and she arches into me, offering more. “Use your words, mi reina.”
She shakes her head, her hair tickling my face. “You know—”
“I want to hear you say it.” I pinch her nipple through the fabric, rolling it between my fingers, and she moans, her back arching off the wall. “Tell me what you want. Tell me how bad you need it.”
Her breath hitches. “I—I want—”
“What?” I growl, my mouth finding hers again, kissing her hard, punishing. “What do you want, Pia?”
She breaks, her hands flying to my belt, her fingers fumbling with the buckle. “I want your cock,” she gasps, her voice raw, desperate. “I want you to fuck me.”
I grin against her skin. "Not yet," I tease. "I want to taste you first."
I drop to my knees, hitching one of her legs over my shoulder.
She gasps, her hands flying to my hair as I slide the fabric aside and bury my face in her pussy.
She's sweet and musky, her taste exploding on my tongue.
I lap at her, my tongue swirling around her clit, my fingers pumping in and out of her tight cunt.
She's writhing against me, her moans echoing through the empty hallway. I can feel her body tensing, her orgasm building. I pull back, my breath hot against her wet flesh.
I stand up, unbuckling my belt with shaking hands. She watches me, her eyes dark with desire, her chest heaving.
A groan rips from my chest, my hands moving to help hers, yanking my belt open, my zipper down. My cock springs free, thick and heavy, the tip already wet with pre-cum. Her eyes drop to it, her lips parting, and for a second, I think she’s going to sink to her knees.
But then her gaze snaps back up to mine, and she wraps her hand around my shaft, stroking me once, twice, her thumb swiping over the tip.
“Fuck,” I hiss, my head falling forward, my forehead pressing against hers. “Just like that. Just—fuck—”
She strokes me again, her grip tight, her thumb circling the head, spreading the pre-cum. I can feel her breath against my lips, hot and fast, and I know she’s as gone as I am.
“Tell me you want this,” I demand, my voice rough. “Tell me you want me.”
Her hand stills. For a second, I think she’s going to stop. That she’s going to push me away, tell me to go to hell. But then she tightens her grip, stroking me again, slower this time, her eyes locked on mine.
“I hate you,” she whispers.
I smirk, even as my cock jerks in her hand. “Good.”
Then I’m kissing her again, my hands gripping her thighs, lifting her. She wraps her legs around my waist, her dress riding up, and I groan as I feel the heat of her through the thin fabric of her panties.
“Fuck, you’re soaked,” I growl against her lips, grinding my cock against her. “You’ve been wet for a while, haven’t you?”
She moans, her head falling back as I rock into her, the friction making her tremble. “Yes—god, yes—”
I reach between us, shoving the fabric of her panties aside, my fingers finding her slick, swollen folds. She’s dripping, her arousal coating my fingers as I slide one inside her.
“Fuck!” she cries, her nails digging into my shoulders.
“So tight,” I groan, adding a second finger, stretching her. “So fucking tight for me.”
She rocks against my hand, her breath coming in sharp, desperate gasps.
I curl my fingers inside her, finding that spot that makes her see stars, and she screams, her body convulsing around me. Her orgasm hits her hard, her cunt clenching around my fingers, her nails raking down my back.
“That’s it,” I murmur, kissing her throat, her jaw, her lips. “Come for me, mi reina. Let me feel it.”
She’s still trembling, her body sensitive, when I pull my fingers free, bringing them to my mouth. Her eyes widen as I suck them clean, tasting her—sweet and tangy and so fucking hers.
“Your turn,” she breathes, her hand wrapping around my cock again, guiding me to her entrance.
I don’t need to be told twice.
I thrust into her in one smooth motion, burying myself to the hilt. She cries out, her head falling back against the wall, her cunt clenching around me like a fist.
“Fuck,” I groan, my forehead pressing against hers. “You feel—fuck, you feel perfect.”
She’s tight. So fucking tight. And wet. So wet it’s obscene, her arousal dripping down my balls as I pull out and thrust back in, hard, deep.
“Yes!” she gasps, her nails digging into my shoulders. “Just like that—harder—”
I obey, my hips snapping forward, driving into her with enough force to make the stone wall tremble behind her. She takes it, her body arching into mine, her moans filling the corridor, echoing off the ancient stones.
“You like that?” I growl, my lips against her ear. “You like when I fuck you like this? Like you’re mine?”
“Yes!” she cries, her cunt clenching around me. “God, yes—”
I reach between us, my thumb finding her clit, circling it in tight, relentless motions. She screams, her body tightening around me, her orgasm crashing over her like a wave.
“Santino!” she gasps, her voice breaking. “I—I can’t—”
“You can,” I growl, my hips pistoning, my cock swelling inside her. “You will.”
And she does.
Her cunt milks me, her body shuddering, her breath coming in sharp, broken gasps as I fuck her through it, chasing my own release.
“Fuck, Pia—” I groan, my cock throbbing, my balls drawing up. “I’m gonna—fuck—”
“Do it,” she gasps, her nails digging into my skin. “Come inside me. I want to feel you—”
That’s all it takes.
With a groan, I bury myself deep and let go, my cum spilling inside her in hot, thick pulses. She moans, her body clenching around me, milking me for every last drop.
For a long moment, there’s nothing but the sound of our ragged breathing, the feel of her body still trembling around mine. Then, slowly, I pull out, my cock slipping free, wet with her arousal and my cum.
She slides down the wall, her legs shaking, her dress riding up around her hips. I tuck myself back into my pants, my hands unsteady, my body still humming with the aftershocks of my orgasm.
Pia looks up at me, her lips swollen, her eyes dark with satisfaction. And something else. Something that looks a hell of a lot like hate.
“This changes nothing,” she says, her voice steady again. Cold.
I smirk, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Keep telling yourself that, mi reina.”
"Well, Pia," I say, my voice teasing. "I guess you're not afraid of me after all."
She laughs, the sound echoing through the hallway. "Not even a little," she replies, her eyes sparkling with mischief.