Chapter 37
Carlo rushes me into the tiled shower room and starts up the water. We peel and shed what’s left of our clothes and fling them in the general direction of the door. Tiny jets are a mix of freezing cold and scalding hot at first. They come at us from all around us.
His mouth and mine are like independent beings, hungry for each other. His tongue on mine, invading my mouth. His hands grasp and explore every part of me, like a blind man finding his greatest treasure, the object of his life’s quest.
Water splashes and rolls over me. I feel the day, the past, everything wash off and away, and there’s nothing left. Nothing but the water and Carlo.
I could believe him. I could lose myself, believing the feelings his body shows. For this moment, I will. I do. Now. But, through the cascading haze of sensation and lust, as my hips tilt my hot, yearning walls to reach his fattening snake, I know I that need a bookmark, a way to remember my place.
Carlo lets go and gives in to his animal needs, eagerly, greedily. It feels complete and all-consuming, and it makes me feel like I can let go, too. I can lose myself in the moment and feel all that I’ve always wanted to feel, only in spades. In neon lights and fireworks. Just the nudge of his cock between my thighs makes my breath soar and quake.
I know his feelings are sincere and intense, but I have to make myself remember that Carlo is ruled by his calculating mind, not by his feelings. His mind is like a great general’s; he can leave his feelings aside when he decides his move.
Under the running flow of water is like being in a separate world. A clean realm of fresh possibilities.
Now he is an animal of pure lust.
“Bite me,” I groan.
Water floods and rolls over us both. Over our skin, through our hair.
“What?” Through the noise of the shower, his voice is meltingly drowsy. Oh, God I could so fall for him.
“Mark me.” His eyes blaze. “On my neck. My shoulder. Or my breast.” His half smile could devour me. His teeth sink into the flesh of my breast, right above my nipple. The sensation as he sucks and gnaws pulls jagged tingles through all my nerves, like an electrified funnel web, drawing into his greedy mouth.
As the sting reddens and intensifies, my fingers grip and pull his head, squeezing him to me through the falling sheets of water. As he does, my hands slide down the hard contours of his abs, down to the heat of his groin and finally, even fatter than I remember it, and as hard as mahogany, finding the over-eager beast of his cock.
I want to suck him again, taste him inside my mouth. Curl my tongue along the ridges of his long underside. Suck and lap, tease and tug him till he feeds me his hot, salty juice.
But he spins me. Turns me so fast, I have to slap my hands on the slippery tiles and spread them for grip against the shiny wet wall as he shoves my legs wide apart with his feet.
He reaches under me and holds me as he pushes his thumb along my swollen opening. “You’re so wet,” he growls, “from the inside and out. You’re drenched.”
Leaning against the wet tiles with one hand, with my trembling legs splayed, I grab his hand. “I want you. Feel how much I want you inside me.”
“You want me to fuck you, principessa? You want me to drill and stretch you wide?”
I grip his hand, puling him tighter against me and rubbing his hard flesh against my wet need. “Fuck me, Carlo. Take me. Break me open. Split me wide.”
He drags his fingers between my lips and slips two, then three of them inside me, making me jolt and squirm before he pulls them away, pulling up the cleavage of my ass. Circling. Making me shake. Then sliding up there, too.
He massages my ass until he gets two fingers in. I’m breathless. Gasping. Then his hand pulls away.
Before I can turn to look, the slick bulb of his cock has spread my lips open and is piercing into my folds. My core clenches and my knees shake as he drives up through my walls. Fluttering, my pussy tries to grip and hold him. His hips slap against my ass. Then he slaps me harder with his hand.
I feel like I can’t hold my balance.
His voice is a snarl. “Get down on your hands and knees, principessa.”
The patter and flow of the shower feels harder down on the floor. As I kneel, he crouches, staying lanced inside me. Still pushing. Water rushes between his pelvic bone and my pussy, intensifying all the sensation.
I love the way my body responds, the buzzing thrum like an ache when he orders me. It makes me feel dirty. Used.It feels wrong in a way that makes me need more. He slides and slams into me. The water makes the rhythmic slaps of his hand on my reddening ass even sharper. The sting of friction from his cock, together with the heat on my ass where he spanks, both shock me into a red surge of sensation.
Between slaps, he fingers and massages my ass, opening and softening me. By the time he slides two, then three fingers up, I’m juddering and shaking in every direction. His cock slams in and my insides flip. Water runs in streams down my face and in my eyes and mouth.
My moans mingle with gurgles as he yanks back my head and slips his cock out of my pussy, and up into my ass. My arms and legs patter at the explosion of raw sensation as my ass is stretched over his cock. No one has been there before.
I love the intense feelings, and I can’t decide if I want most for him to come in my ass or up in my pussy, when all the while my mouth and throat are still gagging for him.
He slides out of my ass and scrupulously cleans his cock before he plunges back into my pussy. I collapse and burst inside, feeling like he’s come home. I’m slipping on the tiles, and my hands give way. I bang my elbow as I collapse into the swirling pool of water. But he doesn’t let up.
He grips my ass hard and shouts as he cannons into me.
I wail, trembling all over and delirious in clenched and bursting oblivion as my pussy convulses, gripping tight on his hard ridges. He pummels me harder, higher, with no mercy. His heat swells and blasts, hosing my insides with his thick, sticky splatter.
Walking back to the house, our clothes are drenched and sticking to us like we just walked through a carwash. Even with nothing but the moonlight and the low garden path lamps, I hope nobody can see us.
My hand swings and happens to graze against his. Our little fingers happen to connect. We both let go like we’ve been stung. We could easily be seen. Nothing in this house can be trusted.
A warm feeling lights low in my gut as I realize, we’re both thinking the same thing. In one way, it’s almost as good as holding hands. In another way, the invisible connection means so much more.
Or it could. I bite my lip to remind myself, nothing in this house can be trusted. Least of all, Carlo.
We part without a word on the way in and head to our rooms separately.
On the way to my room, I hear something behind me but when I turn to look, there’s no-one in the hallway behind me.