Giovanni
GIOVANNI
I told her to come to me and take what she needs when she feels ready, I just didn’t think this would be how she would take her power back.
I’m kneeling in front of her; the power dynamic between us flipped in a way I never thought I’d allow, and I feel an unfamiliar heat crawling up my neck.
Good boy.
My jaw tightens as I fight the urge to react, to give her any indication that those two little words have any effect on me. But I can feel it—this fucked-up, unwelcome thrill that shoots through me, a need I didn’t know existed.
I don’t kneel to anyone, and I sure as hell don’t get off on being praised like some obedient lapdog.
But as her fingers slide through my hair, her touch light and teasing, I feel this twisted heat coil in my gut. I want to fight it, to shove that feeling down and bury it deep where it can’t touch me.
Yet, there’s something in the way she looks at me—like she’s figured me out, cracked open a part of me I didn’t even know existed. It’s fucking infuriating, and it’s thrilling in a way that makes me want to rip my own hair out.
I hate how much I want to hear it again, how much I crave that fucking approval from her. I’ve always been the one in charge, the one who dictates how things go, but now … now I’m on my knees, and she’s the one holding the leash.
“Is that what you think, Chiara?” I murmur, my voice rough, laced with the tension I’m trying to suppress. “You think I’m your good boy?”
The smirk on her lips tells me she knows exactly what’s happening inside my head. She’s exploiting the fuck out of this, pushing me further than anyone ever has.
And the worst part? I’m fucking loving it.
“I know you are, baby. Don’t fight it,” she whispers, caressing my cheek. “You know you like it.”
My chest tightens, my breath coming faster as I try to convince myself she’s wrong, that I don’t like this, that I’m not the kind of man who needs to be told he’s good, who needs to be praised. But then she says it again, her voice low and intoxicating, and I can feel myself unraveling.
“You like this, don’t you?” she says, her voice full of that infuriating confidence. “You like being on your knees for me.”
That sends another jolt through me, but instead of pushing back, I lean into it, letting my hands slide up her legs, watching as her breath hitches just slightly.
“You may have me on my knees, Micetta , but never forget who made you queen.”
She leans down, her fingers brushing through my hair, and I fight the urge to close my eyes, to lean into her touch. This is supposed to feel wrong, degrading even, but all I can think about is how right it feels.
“Oh, I remember well. Now, shut the fuck up and let me use that tongue as my throne,” she urges, bringing her sweet cunt towards my face. “Be a good boy for me, .”
Fuck.
I close my eyes, the sound of her praise echoing in my mind, and I know I’m done for. This woman has me by the throat, and there’s no going back. I’m Basile, and for the first time in my life, I’m someone’s good boy. And God help me, I want more.
I grip her hips and flatten my tongue against her pussy, licking a hot strip up her cunt and groaning.
God, she’s wet already; the power has her dripping for me.
She grips my hair, that barrel still pressed against the side of my head. Flicking and swirling my tongue around her clit, I slip two fingers inside her, knowing how much she loves to feel my rings against her pussy. I forgot how sweet she tastes, how eating her cunt used to be my favourite fucking thing.
“Oh, God,” she moans, her hold on my hair tightening. “Just like that … Oh, that feels so, so good…”
I tighten my grip on her hip with one hand while curling my fingers inside of her with the other and branding her pussy with my tongue. She grinds against my face, my cock twitching painfully with the sounds she makes and aching to be inside of her.
Despite the way we’ve ended up, I can’t help but feel fucking proud of her. She’s using me to take her power back, and I am willingly letting her do it. I am so fucking gone for this woman, it should be pathetic.
But, God, I love the way she owns me.
I feel her walls starting to clench around my fingers and swirl my tongue faster. She still has the Beretta pressed against my temple, and for some fucked up reason, I want her to keep it there when she comes for me.
Fuck, she’s causing all my hidden kinks to come out of the woodwork .
Her grinding picks up and so does my tongue … then she breaks so fucking beautifully that I can feel the pre-cum dripping down my dick.
Sucking gently on her clit, I let her ride out her orgasm; the hand holding the Beretta dropping as she convulses above me. When I feel like she’s done, I let go of her pussy and peer up at her.
She looks down at me, wearing a dreamy smile, before removing her leg from my shoulder. By now, I would have thrown her onto the carpet and fucked her within an inch of her life, but I know she needs to lead tonight.
“Such a good boy for me, ,” she murmurs again, her voice dripping with satisfaction, and this time, I don’t fight it. I let the words wash over me, a shudder running through me as her praise sinks in.
“What’s the next move, Kitten?” I say, hating the way my voice shakes, the way I can’t keep the need out of it. “You gonna keep me on my knees all night, or are you planning on doing something with that gun?”
She tilts her head, her eyes locking onto mine with a knowing smile. “Lay back for me, baby,” she purrs, her voice dripping with condescension and sweet, sweet control.
A low growl escapes my throat, but it’s not one of anger—it’s pure fucking need. I don’t just want this; I crave it. Crave the way she makes me feel like I’m hers, completely and utterly at her mercy.
I lay flat on my back and she lowers herself down onto my cock, and I nearly fucking lift from the floor.
But then she pushes me back and holds the gun against my forehead and shakes her head. “This isn’t for you, Gio. You told me to take what I need when I’m ready, now I’m doing it. You don’t get to come until I say so. Got it?”
Before I can answer, she starts to ride my dick like she’s been starved for it, and I can do nothing but tighten my hold on her hips. My cock is throbbing, that first sliver of need shooting up my spine and causing my balls to draw up.
Fuck.
I grit my teeth, trying to hold back, but it’s been months since I’ve been inside her, and?—
“Don’t. You. Fucking. Dare ,” she says in time as she slams down on top of me. She’s moving her hips just how I like, and I’m not sure how long I’m going to last.
“Chiara … baby, I can’t?—”
“You can and you will,” she says, her voice low and commanding. “You don’t get to come yet.”
“Fuck!” I groan, throwing my head back and biting my lip so hard that I can taste blood. God, she’s way too good at this; knows my body better than I do with the way she’s grinding on me.
With the way I’m holding onto her thighs, I’m sure to leave bruises tomorrow. But I think that’s what she wants; she may own me but she wants to see my marks on her. She wants to know I was here.
God, her moans are pushing me over the edge. Her pretty pussy is so tight and absolutely dripping for me, that I’m not sure how long I’m going to last.
“Please … Chiara, please let me come,” I beg, feeling the walls of her cunt starting to grip me. “Please, baby. I can’t … I don’t know if I can keep this up.”
My eyes shoot open when I feel her removing the Beretta from my forehead, and I hear it clattering on the floor. She’s looking down at me with this soft expression that can only be described as pride.
“I know you can do it,” she says quietly, as she continues to fuck me.
“I can’t … I’m…shit, baby, please let me come… please…” I trail off, ignoring the mortification the begging is making me feel. I’ ve never begged anyone before, never had to bow my nape in subservience. But Chiara?—
“You’ve already been so good for me, just wait until I … Oh, God?—!”
She screams my name and her pussy squeezes the life out of me, but I’m a fucking goner. I fall right over with her and come harder than I ever have before; emptying myself inside of her sweet cunt with her name on my lips.