Valentina #2
"I know what you told me." He pushes two fingers inside me without warning and I cry out. "But I wanted to feel it for myself."
He works me with his hand, slow and relentless, his thumb circling my clit in a rhythm that has me shaking in seconds.
"Salvatore—please—"
"Please what?"
"I need—"
"I know what you need." He pulls his hand away and I whimper at the loss. "And you'll get it when I'm ready to give it to you."
He strips off his shirt, then his shorts, and then he's over me, his weight pressing me into the blanket, his cock hard and heavy against my thigh.
"Look at me," he says.
I do.
"There you are," he says quietly.
And then he's inside me in one brutal thrust and the sound I make is ripped completely out of me.
"Fuck—Salvatore—"
"That's it." His voice is rough. "Say my name."
He doesn't give me time to adjust. He pulls back and slams into me again, setting a pace that's hard and deep and utterly unrelenting.
One hand braces beside my head. The other grips my hip, holding me in place, angling me exactly how he wants me.
"You feel so fucking good," he groans. "So tight. So perfect."
I can't speak. I can only hold onto him, my nails digging into his shoulders, my legs wrapped around his waist as he takes me apart with ruthless precision.
"More," I manage.
"More?" He slows, rolling his hips in a way that hits something devastating inside me. "Like this?"
"No—faster—please—"
"Ask nicely."
"Salvatore—"
He stops completely.
"Ask. Nicely."
I'm panting, desperate, on the edge of something massive. "Please. Please fuck me. Please don't stop."
His smile is wicked. "Good girl."
And then he gives me what I asked for.
He fucks me into the sand, hard and fast and perfect, and when I come it's with his name in my throat and my vision whiting out at the edges, pleasure crashing through me in waves that don't seem to end.
He doesn't stop. He fucks me through it, chasing his own release, and when he finally comes he buries his face in my neck and groans my name like a prayer.
For a long moment we just breathe, tangled together, the sound of the waves loud around us.
Then he lifts his head and looks at me, and there's something soft in his eyes, something unguarded.
"Hi," he says.
I laugh, breathless. "Hi."
He kisses me, slow and sweet, and I taste salt and sun and us.
"Ready for round two?" he asks against my mouth.
"I don't think I can move."
"Good." He pulls out slowly and I whimper. "Because I'm not done with you yet."
He flips me over.
"On your knees," he says, his hand firm at my lower back.
I push up onto my hands and knees, and he's already there behind me, his hands at my hips, positioning me exactly how he wants me.
"This ass," he says, his palm smoothing over the curve of my backside. "I've been thinking about this ass all day."
"Salvatore—"
He lands a sharp smack on my right cheek and I yelp.
"Quiet," he says. "I didn't ask you to talk."
Another smack, harder this time, and heat floods through me.
He leans over me, his chest against my back, his mouth at my ear. "I'm going to fuck you now. And you're going to take everything I give you. Understood? I am your King, and you are my queen. Never forget that."
"Yes."
"Yes what?"
"Yes, my King."
His hand comes to my throat from behind, tilting my head back. "Good girl."
And then he's pushing inside me again, this angle even deeper, even more intense, and I have to bite my lip to keep from screaming.
"That's it," he growls. "Take it. Take all of me."
He sets a brutal pace, one hand gripping my hip hard enough to bruise, the other at my throat, holding me exactly where he wants me.
"You're mine," he says, each word punctuated with a thrust. "Every. Fucking. Inch. Mine."
"Yes—yes—"
His free hand slides around to find my clit and the sensation is devastating.
"Come for me," he commands. "Now."
I shatter.
The orgasm rips through me so hard my arms give out and I collapse forward onto the blanket, but he doesn't stop, doesn't slow, just follows me down and keeps fucking me into the sand.
"Again," he growls. "Give me another one."
"I can't—"
"You can." His fingers work faster. "Come again, Valentina. I want to feel you fall apart on my cock."
And impossibly, I do.
I come again with a broken cry, my whole body shaking, and he curses and drives into me one last time before he spills inside me with a groan that sounds like it's torn out of him.
We collapse together onto the blanket, breathing hard, covered in sand and sweat and salt.
"Wow," I whisper.
He laughs against my shoulder, then presses a kiss there. "Stay right there."
I hear him move, and then he's back, and I feel something cool and slick between my legs.
"What—"
"Shh." His hand smooths over my ass. "I told you. I'm not done with you yet."
His finger, slick with lube, circles my back entrance, and my breath catches.
"Salvatore, baby."
"Have you done this before?" His voice is low, careful.
"No."
"Good." He presses in slowly, just the tip of one finger. "Then I get to be the first. The only."
The sensation is intense, but not painful. He works me slowly, adding more lube, letting me adjust.
"Breathe," he says. "Relax for me."
I do, and he pushes deeper, and the fullness makes me gasp.
"That's it," he murmurs. "You're doing so well, baby."
He adds a second finger and I whimper.
"Too much?"
"No, it's just—"
"Intense?"
"Yes."
"Good." He scissors his fingers, stretching me, preparing me. "Because I'm going to fuck this perfect ass, and I want you to feel every inch of me."
He takes his time. More lube. Three fingers now, working me open until I'm panting into the blanket, my body trembling with need.
When he finally pulls his fingers out, I feel empty, aching.
"I'm ready," I whisper.
"Ready for what?"
"For you."