19. Dante #2
Sweat slicked our bodies as I arched against him, my cock pulsing untouched between us. Each spurt of my release triggered another shudder. My fingers clawed at his back, marking him as he had done to me.
Renato remained hard inside me, watching my face with something like wonder. “I want you all to myself,” he murmured in Italian, brushing sweat-dampened hair from my forehead with unexpected tenderness. “And not just your body.”
His Italian washed over me like a forgotten lullaby, each syllable unlocking memories I’d buried deep.
My throat tightened at the sound of my mother’s language.
The words themselves made my stomach clench with conflicting impulses.
I wanted to snarl that I wasn’t his to claim, that I belonged to no one.
I’d had enough of being owned. But my body responded with a visceral shiver, my muscles clenching around him at the possessive declaration that felt so fucking good.
“You enjoy when I speak Italian, yes?” Renato purred, grinding his still-hard cock deeper inside me.
I nodded, grateful he couldn’t see the war behind my eyes.
Let him think it was only the exotic sounds turning me on, not the dangerous promise of belonging to someone who wanted more than access to my body.
The knowledge that he wanted the parts of me I kept locked away made a second wave of arousal crest despite my recent climax and against every survival instinct I possessed.
Renato slowly withdrew, his cock dragging against my oversensitive nerves as he pulled out completely.
The sudden emptiness left a hollow ache that matched the one in my chest. I hated how my body tried to follow his, my hips lifting to maintain contact until the last inch.
I hated even more how his words had carved out a space inside me that I didn’t want to admit existed. A space where I craved what he offered.
Fighting the urge to pull him back, I clenched my jaw against the unwelcome vulnerability his words stirred up within me. I wasn’t some desperate fool who’d mistake a fuck for freedom, no matter how good his Italian sounded or how perfectly he filled me.
His eyes never left mine while he ran a hand down my chest through the mess I’d made on my stomach.
“Don’t worry, I’m not done with you yet,” he promised. “Can you handle more?”
The question was a challenge that stirred something competitive within me despite still trembling with aftershocks. I refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing how thoroughly he’d wrecked me. “Is that all you’ve got?”
His answering smile was feral. “Turn over for me,” he coaxed, his accent wrapping around the words like silk. “Hands and knees.”
“Afraid I’ll fall asleep if we stay like this?” I taunted, unable to resist.
Renato chuckled, the sound warm and pleasing. “Trust me, Dragon. Sleep is the last thing on my mind.”
My limbs felt heavy, satiated, but I complied, rolling onto my stomach and pushing myself up.
The new position made the bite on my thigh stretch, sending fresh waves of stinging pleasure through my system.
Renato positioned himself behind me, his hands tracing the curve of my spine before gripping my hips.
When he entered me again, the angle was deeper and more possessive. Overly sensitive from my orgasm, each thrust sent conflicting signals of too much and not enough coursing through my body.
“This is how I want to take you,” he said, setting a deliberate pace that had me gasping. “Where I can watch your back arch when I hit that spot inside you.” He angled his hips until he found the bundle of nerves that made me cry out.
My arms trembled, threatening to give out as he continued. Despite having just come, I felt the stirrings of renewed arousal. While my youth usually provided a fast recovery, Renato wielding pain and pleasure together kept my body responsive.
His hand slid up my spine to the nape of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair before tightening into a fist. The slight hurt centered me, drawing me back from the edge of numbness that always threatened to overtake me during sex.
“You belong under me,” he murmured, his free hand reaching around to stroke my cock. It was too soon after my orgasm for a full erection, but his touch still sparked my arousal.
He continued to work me, his pace never faltering as blood flowed back into my dick and hardened in his hand. The dual stimulation was almost too much, hovering on that knife’s edge of pain where I found the most intense pleasure.
His grip on my neck tightened as he leaned over me. He pressed his chest against my back while the change in angle drove him deeper. I gasped as he panted hot against my skin.
“You enjoy a little pain with your pleasure, don’t you?” Renato whispered, too low for the microphones to pick up.
“Yes,” I breathed, pushing back against him, silently asking for more.
“Don’t worry,” he murmured against my shoulder. “I’ll make it hurt so good for you.”
I bit my lip hard, trapping a moan that threatened to shape itself into “Renato” rather than “Lorenzo.” The danger of using his real name while being recorded sent another blast of arousal through my system.
Salvatore’s punishment for such a slip would be severe, but I was damaged enough that the risk only heightened my enjoyment.
Renato grew more demanding, each thrust driving me closer to a second orgasm I hadn’t thought possible so soon. The pressure built slower as a gradual ascent rather than the sharp peak of my first climax. My thighs trembled with the effort of holding myself up, the bite mark throbbing.
Without warning, Renato’s hand left my cock and tangled in my hair to yank me upright. My back collided with his chest, the new position hitting harder as he picked up the pace. His arm wrapped around my torso, holding me flush against him as he continued to thrust upward.
“Is this rough enough for you?” Renato growled in my ear, his hips slamming against me. “Or do you need more?”
All I could manage was a groan, unable to speak as the new angle overwhelmed my senses. My cock bobbed untouched with each powerful slap of our bodies connecting.
I reached back blindly, my fingers finding the thick waves of his hair. I clutched a handful, anchoring myself against the onslaught of sensation threatening to drown me.
Renato rewarded my desperation by turning his head enough to claim my mouth in an awkward but fierce kiss.
Our lips collided at an odd angle before finding alignment.
His tongue invaded my mouth with the same relentlessness as his cock, claiming both ends of me simultaneously.
The kiss was brutal and consuming, stealing what little oxygen I could gather between thrusts.
When we broke apart for air, he nipped at my bottom lip hard enough to sting.
After I released his hair, my fingers trailed down his arm to where it locked around my torso. I traced the defined muscles, feeling them flex with each powerful thrust. His arm holding me was like iron, controlling my movements completely as he railed me hard.
He interlaced our fingers against my chest, squeezing them in a gesture that felt dangerously like affection.
I responded by pressing his hand harder against my skin, silently demanding more pressure, more control, more of whatever we were becoming.
His thumb brushed over my nipple in response, sending sparks of pleasure that connected directly to where he filled me.
“I know what you need to lose control,” he purred, his lips brushing the shell of my ear.
Before I could process his words, his teeth found the junction where my neck met my shoulder and bit down to flood me with pleasure without leaving marks.
My entire body seized as electricity shot through me. Fucking Natalia. She had handed him a weapon against me I wasn’t prepared to counter. Thanks to her, he’d discovered one of my most closely guarded preferences while I still hadn’t mapped his weaknesses.