Chapter Twenty-Two Guinevere #3
“Si, sono tuo. Qualsiasi cosa io sia, sono tuo,” he growled against my breast.
Yes, yours. Whatever I am, it’s yours.
I tugged the elastic waistband down to grip his hot flesh in one hand. The sheer weight of his heavy cock made me whimper.
“Basta parlare,” I cried out as his fingers curled inside me and sent pleasure pulsing through me like a strobe light. “Fuck me, now.”
“So impatient to be impaled on my dick,” he teased darkly, keeping his hips just far enough from where he had pressed down to the wood that I could only drag the head of his weeping cock against my wet crease. “Sei affamata. You are so hungry. Tell me how you want it.”
“I want to feel you stretch me open on your thick cock,” I said without an ounce of shame, canting my hips so the tip of him caught at my entrance.
Hooking a leg around his hip, I leveraged my weight to impale myself just slightly.
“Please, Raffa, don’t tease me. Now that you are mine, I need you to claim me.
Fuck me hard and paint me in your cum. Remind me why I never want to be without you. ”
A fierce snarl tore from his throat. “Hands on the branch. Do not let go.”
I hastened to do as he asked, my hands trembling as I wound them around the thin branch over my head.
The position lifted my breasts even more, so that they jiggled over the gathered fabric of my top.
It also made me feel like I had no control, dangling from the limb like an ornament for Raffa to enjoy.
The moment I obeyed, he clutched my ass in both hands, tipped my hips up so that my thighs, trapped in the spandex, were pressed out and back between us, and then thrust himself to the root inside me.
My head fell back between my shoulders on a shout as every synapse in my brain pinwheeled into fireworks.
“There you go.” His praise was a litany of filth as he started to drive into me, his hands keeping my lower back carefully away from the rough bark so it wouldn’t hurt but also so that he could haul me back into his every thrust. “Such a sweet, good girl taking my cock like this. You are going to let me fuck you whenever I want to, is that not right, cerbiatta?”
“Yes,” I hissed, using my grip on the tree to swing myself into him, my teeth jarring at every thrust, my entire focus narrowed to the spot where he swelled and bucked inside me. “Yes, please.”
“You just want to be used, si?” he soothed, reaching up to pluck at each nipple, back and forth until I convulsed with each shock wave of sensation it evoked.
“That is what you thought about so lonely in the dark those nights without me in your bed. You dreamed of me breaking in to take you in your sleep, waking you up with an orgasm.”
“Si, Raffa,” I panted as an epic climax loomed over me, threatening to crash over my head and drown me in sensation.
“Oh, you already want to come for me? Did I not give you enough pleasure last night?” he asked, a cold edge of displeasure in his tone even though the hand on my nipple arrowed down to my clit to thrum it with his thumb as if he were playing a slow note on the guitar. “Wait for permission.”
“Please,” I cried, my nails dipping into the wood, my hips juddering against his own as I fought off the impending orgasm. “Oh God, Raffa, please, I-I need to come for you.”
“You look so pretty struggling for me.” His mouth was at my chin, nipping along my jaw until he reached my ear, where he whispered, “Such a good, sweet girl. You can come for me now, Vera. Vieni per me.”
When his teeth sealed over my neck, sucking hard at the bruise he had placed there yesterday as if he never wanted that claim of ownership to wane, the tension shattered and sent pleasure sluicing through me, touching each point of electricity, my pussy, my breasts, even my neck under his teeth, until I felt like one vibrant live wire.
Raffa grunted as I spasmed around him, his cock swelling even harder inside me moments before I felt the hot kick of cum flooding my pussy. The sensation made my walls flutter in the aftermath, almost a second, smaller orgasm on the heels of the first.
“I love the feel of your cum inside me,” I murmured, grinding my hips back into his so little shudders of pleasure emanated from our connection.
Raffa pulled back from my neck to stare at me, his cheeks flushed, a lock of wavy dark hair hanging into his pupil-blown eyes. There was a wicked promise in that look that said he wasn’t done with me yet.
I gasped when he pushed a finger inside me next to his slowly softening dick. He raised it, glistening with our combined cum, between us in offering.
Without hesitation, I leaned forward to suck it into my mouth, fellating it the way I would his shaft. From up close, I watched his flush deepen as he studied me.
“We taste so good,” I murmured, chasing his finger when he pulled it from my mouth. “You don’t even know.”
“No?” he asked, a slow smile tugging his mouth. “Let me see, then, shall I?”
Before I could process his intent, Raffa was on one knee, his hands clasping my ass to tilt my wet pussy into his mouth. I gaped down at his dark head between my thighs, his tongue inside me and his groan a palpable vibration against my swollen folds.
“OhmyGod,” I slurred, unbelievably aroused by the sight of him eating his cum out of me, humming as if the flavor of us together was the best taste in the world. “Fuck, Raffa, that is so hot.”
He threw my legs over his shoulders to ease me down from the branch so he could have better access, and I curled over him, hands clutched in his silken hair to pin him close. His resulting groan urged me to hold him tighter, grinding down against his tongue as he fucked it inside me.
“Dio mio, you’re going to make me come again,” I said with a hitch of breath as the tension in my womb wrenched tighter and tighter.
Already I was so close to the breaking point, my thighs quaked.
Raffa’s fingers dug almost painfully into my ass, the bite of hurt only sending me higher.
“Vienimi sulla lingua,” he encouraged roughly before placing a wet, sucking kiss on my clit.
Come on my tongue.
I broke open like pottery dropped to the earth. Only Raffa’s hands and mouth kept me from falling apart, the two points of contact like glue holding me together. I trembled around his tongue, the wet sound of his mouth sucking up my juices driving me higher.
“Oh God,” I cried, and I meant him.
Raffa, the only god who mattered to me. King Below. The most powerful man I knew, on his knees for me again to bring me inconceivable levels of pleasure.
When I was just a shivering, oversensitized collection of atoms in his embrace, Raffa carefully stood up with me in his arms, my legs listless around his hips, my hands loosely wound around his neck.
“I think you killed me,” I said softly. “When I said I would die for you, I didn’t exactly mean at your own hands.”
His chuckle moved over me like sunlight as he sat on the ground at the base of the tree with me in his lap. Once settled, he tugged my arms down so he could gently massage the stiffness out of my fingers.
“A good death, though, I think.” His smile was small and wicked, lips still glossed with us.
I leaned forward to kiss him, wanting to taste us too.
He hummed with satisfaction, palming the back of my head as he let me slide my tongue over his lips and then between his teeth.
“We taste good together,” I admitted when I pulled back. “I think that was the hottest thing that has ever happened to me.”
He cocked a brow. “Even more so than when I fucked you in every one of your sweet holes that last night at the palazzo?”
I shivered at the memory even as a blush stamped its heat into my cheeks. “Okay, maybe not.”
His laugh was a smug rumble. “I promise to give you many more salacious memories. Now that you are staying.”
The last wasn’t said as a question, but I could read the lingering tension in his body at the words. So I cupped his handsome face between my hands, thumbs rasping through the short beard he’d grown, the way I’d wanted to do since I’d first seen him in Ann Arbor again.
“I can’t promise I won’t ever be scared or need some time or space to process, but I can promise that space won’t be the Atlantic Ocean and that time won’t be two months.”
“Seven weeks and five days,” he corrected solemnly.
My heart expanded so large in my chest, it hurt to breathe. I dipped to press my forehead to his and whispered, “I love you no matter what comes, okay? Te lo prometto.”
I promise.
“Te lo prometto, cerbiatta mia,” he echoed.
“You keep teaching me about sex,” I said, leaning back to look him in the eye. “I think it’s time you taught me how to be la tua cacciatrice.”
The most beautiful smile I’d ever seen, full of love and laughter, claimed my kiss-swollen mouth. “Bene. The first lesson, Vera, is how to fire a gun so that the next time a man comes for you and you shoot him in the chest, it is not a fluke that puts the bullet there.”