Chapter 12 #2
She pins her lips together but nods frantically.
I shift the vibrator from her clit, nudging it between her thighs. But her legs are so reluctant to move further apart, I can’t push it inside.
“If you want this in your pussy, cucciola, you’re going to have to spread your legs for me. I can’t use my hands, remember?”
Her breaths shake as she inhales and inches her thighs apart.
I swallow hard. Her pussy is soaked.
“Shit. You liked sucking my vibrator, didn’t you?”
Blood rushes into her cheeks, up her temples.
“I-I’m sorry,” she stutters.
I dip the head of the vibrator into her opening then bring it up to my mouth again. This time I suck it.
Fucking fuck. She tastes sublime.
Her eyes pop wide.
“Don’t apologize for getting turned on, Pfeiffer. This is every teenage boy’s dream.” She doesn’t know how literally I mean that.
“But… you’re not a teenage boy,” she whispers.
My gaze darts back to hers. “What am I?”
She swallows. “You’re a… man.”
I anchor an arm into the comforter beside her head, lowering myself so I can breathe her in. Then I push the vibrator inside her pussy. Not all the way in—just enough to tease.
Her head tips back on a long, breathy gasp and my cock hardens like a goddamn rock.
“Oh God!”
I pump the vibrator softly into her while she squirms, circling her hips, trying with her body to devour more. My lips brush across her nose, the heat from her forehead burning into mine. She’s on that edge now. I just have to keep her there.
In my periphery, she gathers up fistfuls of the comforter, her legs starting to tense. Quick as a whip, I drag the vibrator from inside her pussy and stroke it across her thighs, leaving streaks of her arousal in its wake.
When her breaths have returned to normal, I tentatively breach her clit again.
It takes only seconds before her legs part wider and a moan slips from her mouth.
The sound battles with the slick, wet noises the vibrator makes as it slides back and forth over her entrance. She’s so wet it’s making me senseless with raw, carnal need.
“Please…” she whimpers. “Oh God, please…”
I graze my lips over hers. “You want to come, don’t you, cucciola?”
She swallows loudly. “Yes. Please…”
I take the vibrator back to her thighs until she cools down, then drag it over her clit, feeling her lusty shock rattle the bed sheets. Then I fuck her with it, short and fast.
When she’s about to come, I draw it out again, but this time, I crawl down the bed and nestle between her legs.
“Please make me come,” she whispers.
I glance up, tipping my head. “Why?”
“Because… Because this hurts.”
Her eyes flash in surprise and realization dawns. She’s beginning to suspect I want her to hurt.
The tension unbalances me.
I haven’t stopped wanting to hurt her, but… right now, in this moment, I want to hear my name tumble from those swollen lips, more.
I switch up the setting on the vibrator to a faster pulse and slowly fuck her again.
She lifts her knees, pinning her feet higher up the mattress, opening her thighs.
And my brain blanks.
I press the vibrating tip to her clit, circling it firmly. She comes up onto her elbows to watch. “Oh God…”
“What’s my name, cucciola?” I say, as I tease the tip back inside.
Her lips fall open and her eyes lock onto mine. “Il Diavolo.”
I arch a brow. “So, why are you calling for God when it’s the Devil between your legs?”
“Diavolo,” she whimpers, looking straight at me. “Please don’t stop.”
I chuckle softly. “What’s my real name?”
“Um…” She’s racking her brain to remember. Interesting.
“Fiero,” she says finally. “Fiero Bellucci.”
I smile. “Correct.”
Her gaze swims on an ocean of lust.
“Now use it.”
Another flood of liquid oozes from her and a switch flicks in my head. Silent goes the belligerent voice in my brain, obliterated by an appetite only a devil would unleash on a woman.
I yank the vibrator from her pussy, toss it to the floor and push my mouth between her legs.
Her entire body lunges, fingers tearing at my hair.
“Fiero!”
The contractions of her orgasm close around my tongue and I fuck her with it, stimulating her clit with my nose. The feel of her flesh beneath my tongue, her nails clawing at my scalp sets me on fire. Raging flames of forbidden lust coursing through my veins.
Her taste overwhelms me, shattering any semblance of control I had. I suck and lick her through a never-ending stream of tremors, only relieving her to nibble and chew at the delicate skin of her thighs. Then I return to her pussy, licking up the mess I made, and she comes again.
This time I suck softly on her clit, moaning into the tender skin, drawing out more gentle vibrations from her body. I’m completely mindless with need.
“G-God…” she whimpers.
I detach my lips. “I’m no God, cucciola.” Then I return them to her so I can savor every taste and shiver. I could suckle on her, lick her out, for days.
“I-I mean, Fiero.” She shakes again. “Fuck, Fiero.”
I drown in her. Lose myself in her scent, her little noises, completely.
And the sound of my name when it falls from her mouth on whimpers, moans, cries…
In the heat of this moment, nothing else matters. Everything falls away. My past, her past, my hate, her debt.
Because the taste of her was made for me and no one else.
Her thighs press against my temples as I nuzzle her clit, drawing more little pulses from her core.
And I realize something deeply inconvenient. My obsession with ruining Pfeiffer McAllister just turned into a fever.
I feel flushed, heavy and smoldering.
And if death were to come now, I’d let it take me.