Chapter 23 #2
“Jesus,” Raven breathes, not in disgust but in fascination.
I crook my fingers inside her, maintaining a steady rhythm that has her pushing back against me, seeking more. “This is the Leone Room, Little Thief. No judgment. No limits. Just pleasure in whatever form calls to you.”
“H-have you ever done that?” she asks, gasping when I scissor my fingers inside her.
“What?” I ask. “Pissed on anyone? No, can’t say I ever have.”
“Would you?” she asks.
I stop moving my fingers as I consider her question. “If you wanted me to, I would. But it’s not something I’ve ever been into.”
The crowd below moves like a single organism now, clothes being shed, bodies pressing together in the darkness. I can make out a woman bent over the bar, her skirt hiked up as a man fucks her from behind.
Nearby, three people tangle together in a configuration of limbs and mouths that blurs individual identities.
Raven’s body tenses, her muscles clenching around my fingers as I feel her approaching the edge. “Watch them and come for me,” I order, my voice rough with need.
She obeys beautifully, her orgasm crashing through her in waves I can feel against my hand. “Matteo! Fuck. Fuck. I’m coming.” Her cry is sharp, almost pained.
I quickly cover her mouth with my free hand, muffling the sound. We should be alone up here, but it happens that people find their way up here, using the halls for their escapades.
“Only I get to hear those sounds,” I growl against her ear. “Only I get to know how you sound when I make your greedy pussy come.”
As her body still trembles with aftershocks, I unzip my pants and free my cock, hot and heavy in my hand. I guide the head to her entrance, the metal of my piercing catching slightly on her sensitive flesh.
“Wait,” she gasps, turning her head to look at me. “You need a condom.”
I shake my head, already pressing firmer against her. “No,” I growl darkly. “I want to feel all of you. There’s not going to be anything between us this time.”
Her eyes widen, but not with refusal. “Then you don’t fuck anyone else while you’re fucking me,” she demands, the words coming out in a rush. “I mean it. If you’re bare with me, you’re only with me.”
The possessiveness in her voice sends a thrill through me. My Little Thief, staking her claim. “Deal,” I agree, pushing forward until the head of my cock breaches her. “And just for the record, there’s no one else I want to be with. Just you, Raven.”
She moans long and low as I fill her inch by inch. I go slowly, savoring the tight heat of her, the way she stretches to accommodate me. When I’m fully seated inside her, both of us panting with the effort of restraint, I turn her face back toward the window.
“Keep watching,” I remind her, pulling out almost completely before driving back in.
Below us, the show continues its descent into beautiful depravity. Kayla has moved from behind the bar to a small platform near the stage. She holds a tall black candle, its flame dancing as she tilts it over the bare back of a woman bent over before her.
“Is she going to…” Raven cuts herself off and points to Kayla.
The hot wax falls in slow, measured drops, drawing gasps from the woman that carry even over the music and crowd noise. Raven’s body responds with a clench around my cock that nearly makes me lose my rhythm.
“That,” she whispers, almost to herself. “I want to try that.”
The idea of Raven’s perfect skin decorated with trails of my wax, marked by my hand, makes my cock twitch inside her. “You want to play with fire,” I smirk, gripping her hips tighter as I increase my pace.
Near Kayla, another performer approaches with what looks like a metal rod. I know what’s coming, but my Little Thief doesn’t.
“Look at her,” I rasp. “Burned by fire and about to be fucked by cold metal.”
“How cold?” Raven questions on a moan.
Instead of answering, I thrust into her again and again while we both watch the woman being subjected to temperature play. The contrast of hot wax and the cool metal, pleasure and pain balanced on a knife’s edge.
As though she can feel it, Raven cries out when the metal touches the woman’s inner thigh, drawing a scream that resonates through the club.
“Fuck, that’s… wow,” Raven gasps, pushing back against me with renewed fervor. “Harder, Matteo. I need it harder. Fuck me like you can’t stand not to be buried inside me.”
I give her what she wants, driving into her with enough force to press her against the glass with each thrust. My hand returns to her throat, controlling her breaths, her moans, her pleasure. My other hand snakes around to find her clit, circling it in time with my thrusts.
Raven’s breathing quickens, her inner muscles fluttering around me as she approaches another climax. “I’m close,” she warns, voice tight with need. “So fucking close.”
“Come on my cock,” I growl, my own release building at the base of my spine. “Let me feel you milk me while they all fuck beneath us.”
Her body obeys, clenching around me in rhythmic waves as she cries out my name. The sound of it—my name on her lips as she comes—pushes me over the edge. I bury myself deep inside her, my release pulsing hot and thick as I mark her from the inside.
As we stand there, catching our breath, bodies still joined, a movement in the crowd below catches my eye. Gia stands at the edge of the bar, her gaze tilted up toward my office window.
Even in the dim light, I can see the narrowing of her eyes, the tight line of her mouth. Jealousy. Pure and simple.
Even though I know she can’t see us, it feels as though she’s watching. She’s probably guessing we’re up here since my window’s usually open while I watch what happens on Freaky Friday.
A possessive surge rushes through me, and I tighten my grip on Raven, pulling her closer against my chest. Mine. Not for show, not for the favor, but genuinely mine.
I love this woman.