Chapter 20 #2
My hips begin to gyrate, but then he suddenly stops, and with a dark chuckle, he pulls away. His heated gaze burns over my body, and he shakes his head. “Fuck, you’re dangerous.”
When he gets up and walks toward the kitchen, I blink like an idiot for a few seconds before I yell, “What are you doing? Come back and finish what you started.”
“That sounds a lot like an order, princess. Maybe try begging.”
“Asshole,” I snap, and climbing off the couch, I go after him.
If he wants to play dirty, so can I.
I wait for him to pick up the knife again, and when he opens the pack of sliced ham, I sink to my knees.
His attention snaps to me, and as I crawl into the space between his legs and the island where a stool can fit, I feel nervous. I’ve never done anything like this and hope I don’t screw it up.
Christiano tries to act nonchalant as he begins to cut the ham into squares, but when I take hold of his boxers and pull them down to free his hard-on, his eyes flick to me again.
I wrap my hand around his cock, and take a good look at it, noticing veins running beneath his skin. Slowly, I begin to work my fist up and down his hard length, then I lean forward and take the swollen head into my mouth.
I swirl my tongue around him to wet his skin, and when it earns me an unexpected groan from him, my eyes dart back to his face.
Christiano’s lips are parted, and his features are drawn tight, all his attention laser-focused on me.
I suck him a little deeper before pulling back.
“Fuck, Sienna.” His voice is hoarse and uncontrolled.
I take him deeper as I begin to suck him harder. My curiosity returns, and with my free hand, I cup his balls, careful not to accidentally hurt him.
“Jesus Christ,” he hisses. “You’re killing me.”
His cock jerks in my mouth, and not wanting him to orgasm, I pull back and crawl out of the space.
As I climb to my feet, I say, “I’ll cook the pasta.”
I hear the knife clatter as it drops on the island, and the next second, I’m swept into the air and hauled over Christiano’s shoulder.
“Oh God,” I shriek from being manhandled, and as he stalks out of the kitchen and up the stairs, I smack his ass while complaining. “Your shoulder is digging into my stomach.”
Another shriek escapes when I practically fly through the air for a second before his strong arm pins me to his chest, while his other one wraps around the back of my thighs.
When I’m dropped on the bed and he crawls over me, I say, “You’re freakishly strong.”
“You weigh nothing.” His mouth nips at mine, his face dark with desire, as if he’s a second away from fucking my brains out.
I trail a finger over his jaw. “Is it weird that I’m turned on because you manhandled me?”
He chuckles while dropping kisses down my throat. “Not at all.”
My eyes lock on the ceiling, then they widen. “Why the hell do you have mirrors all over the ceiling?”
“It’s so I can see the entire room when I’m in bed.”
The sight of Christiano’s back grabs my attention, and a smile curves my lips. “You look good on top of me.”
He moves down my body, and I can’t tear my eyes away from the mirrors as I watch his head settle between my thighs.
My abdomen tightens, and my core flushes with heat, the view of Christiano sucking and licking my clit and opening is one hell of a turn-on.
“God,” I moan. “Please don’t stop.”
He blows hot air over me, then asks, “Is that you begging, princess?”
I nod quickly. “Yes.”
He gets up and pushes his boxers off, then grabbing hold of my legs, he yanks me closer to him until my butt teeters on the edge of the bed.
When he positions his cock at my entrance, I realize I can see as he slowly pushes into me. He’s only halfway inside me before he slowly draws back, and that’s all it takes for me to come.
My back arches and every muscle in my body tenses, the pleasure so intense I can’t make a sound.
The moment Christiano realizes I’m orgasming, he begins to fuck me so hard I keep shifting up the bed.
“Christ,” he growls, and grabbing hold of my hips, he holds me in place as he pounds into me.
His muscles roll, and the sight of his hot ass in the mirror makes another orgasm crash through me.
All I can do is stare at the erotic view while pleasure paralyzes me. There’s only Christiano and the ruthless way he’s consummating our marriage.
One of his hands moves up, and his fingers wrap tightly around my throat, and as his orgasm strikes, he presses his forehead to my chest. I feel his breath rushing over my skin as his cock jerks inside me.
I see the moment his incredible body loses all strength.
And it’s the most profound experience of my life.
Right now, as he empties himself inside me, I’m the only person who gets to see him like this.
I’m the one taking every drop of his release, and one day, God willing, one of his sperm will impregnate me, and I’ll give birth to the next capo dei capi.
Christiano lifts his head to look at me, and noticing I’m still staring at the ceiling, he chuckles, “You really like the mirrors.”
“You have no idea. It’s an absolute turn-on watching you fuck me.”
“Yeah?” He pulls out and lies down beside me. His eyes meet mine in our reflection. Bringing his hand to my chest, he massages my breast, and a grin spreads over his face. “I see what you mean.”
“Right?”
Gripping hold of my jaw, he turns my face to his. “Enough of that.”
He seals his mouth to mine and kisses me with so much reverence that it brings tears to my eyes.