Sarah & Vittorio

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Sarah & Vittorio Page 12

by Marianne Knightly


  He laid his hand flat against his stomach and moved it down, down, down until his fingers separated around the base of his cock. Between his index and middle finger, he felt his cock as it moved, then felt her pussy as it brushed his fingers.

  Fuck. Damn. Fuck.

  His command was a bark, unintentionally harsh yet well-meaning. “Give me your hand.”

  She reached out immediately, another part of her body at his control.

  He positioned her hand against her stomach and mimicked what his other hand was doing. Her index and middle finger split over her perfect pussy and nestled against her drenched lips.

  “Vittorio.”

  “Feel me.” His voice was deep, guttural, and not to be ignored. “Feel my cock as I slide into you, own you, possess you, fill you.”

  “Oh, shit. Shit. Fuck. Christ.”

  Her hand clenched against her pussy, and rubbed against her clit, causing her to moan.

  “Don’t come,” he ordered.

  She shook her head and begged, sending a new, fiercer wave of possession through him.

  “Please.”

  “On my order.”

  “Oh God.”

  He thrust his cock harder.

  She whimpered.

  His cock retreated. “Not yet.”

  “OhshitOhshitOhshit.”

  Thrust. “Not fucking yet.”

  She arched her back, her legs trying to clench together, but he kept her spread wide and open.

  Retreat. “Not goddamn yet.”

  Thrust.

  Retreat.

  “Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease.”

  Thrust.

  Retreat.

  Thrust.

  Retreat.

  He wanted them to come together, to climax together. If they did, it would be one more way to own a piece of her.

  He was close, so fucking close.

  Thrust. Retreat. Harder thrust. Harder retreat.

  Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. Thrust!

  He screamed. “Now!”

  She screamed, and her pussy clenched around him. “Hooooo-lyyyyyyy shit!”

  His cock shoved deep and he let go, filling her full of him. For a moment, his vision swam, stars swirling around, as if he’d been sucker-punched.

  She collapsed, heaving, onto the bed.

  He collapsed on top of her, panting and waiting for his vision to clear.

  They were sweaty, sticky, worn out, and coated with each other.

  It was the best fucking sex he’d ever had in his life.

  He was exhausted, but he had energy left to keep his promise.

  His cock, still buried inside her, slid languidly through their mixed wet. He nuzzled her neck, the ripe scent of her heat fading into the simple, soft citrus scent he associated with her.

  “Vittorio?”

  Her voice was scratchy from her scream. So was his. “Ready for the finale?”

  She stilled. “F-finale? There’s more?”

  He nodded against her neck.

  “How do you still have energy? Seriously?”

  He chuckled against her skin and was uncommonly pleased by the shiver it caused in her body. “You ready to taste my cock, bella? My cock that’s covered in me and you?”

  She sucked in a breath, his body shifting with hers while it did. “Oh fuck.”

  “Too tired?”

  “No! I mean, no.” She licked her lips.

  God, his dirty woman. “Pucker up, bella.”

  She whimpered as he pulled out completely and sat back on his knees again. She made to sit up, but he put a gentle hand on her shoulder to keep her down.

  “Not this time, bella. This time, you take my cock lying down. One hand on my cock, and your other hand in your pussy; I want you to come one more time.”

  Her eyes widened. “I, I don’t know if I can.”

  His hand trailed down over her body, between her breasts and into her heat. “Your body was made for pleasure, my bella. You’ll just have to keep sucking until you do.”

  “Oh, Christ.”

  He smiled. He slid up her body, stopping when his knees aligned near the top of her head. Just as she’d been bared to him, now he was bared to her, his balls and semi-hard cock on display.

  He felt a sudden vulnerability, but he swept that away. He wouldn’t examine his feelings now.

  He lowered, bending slowly at the knees, her mouth already open and waiting. He held his cock in position until she took over.

  Her tongue swept out and licked the head, then began to draw his cock inside. Her hand cupped his balls, causing his thighs and ass to clench.

  He leaned over, one hand bracing himself against the wall, the other fisting in her hair, forcing her head to move where he wanted it to.

  “How does it taste, my bella? Do you like the taste of my cock?”

  She tried to nod, but his hand kept her head in place, so she gave his cock a lick in response.

  “Do you like the taste of my cock covered in cum?”

  Another lick, this one longer.

  “Do you like the taste of my cock covered in you? Covered in the explosion we made together?”

  A lick and—God help him—a suck to end all sucks. Her cheeks indented so much, he saw the outline of his cock in her cheeks.

  “Fuck, yes, my bella.”

  He heard her fingers at her folds, the wet slap of hands against her drenched, filled pussy.

  “Rub your clit.”

  She moaned as she complied.

  “Put your fingers inside you. Spread your legs wide and fuck yourself on your fingers.”

  She clenched underneath him, but her arm stretched, then started moving. It bent, then stretched. Bend. Stretch.

  Her arm moved faster and so did he. He moved her head to take more of him and pumped his cock faster.

  They would come together again, and it would be another way to possess her.

  “Now, my bella. Now!”

  She moaned loud against his cock, the vibrations setting him off.

  Her hips pistoned up as her orgasm took hold and her eyes closed, but her mouth—fuck, that mouth—swallowed every last drop of his cum.

  He slapped his hand against the wall as his cock drained, then formed a fist and banged that, too.

  When it was over, he pulled his cock out slowly, leaving the head inside. “Open your eyes, my bella.”

  She blinked them open, dazed and dazzled.

  He gripped his cock and pulled the head out. Slowly, he circled the head on her lips, coating her plush, pink, used lips once more.

  Her eyes smiled at him, then her lips puckered and kissed his cock. A chaste, simple kiss after all they’d done.

  His chest tightened.

  He flipped over to the side, adjusting his body to lie down facing her.

  She turned, cuddling into him. She pressed another soft kiss to his pec and his chest tightened even more.

  Fuck. Shit. Fuck. What was happening between them?

  One of his arms circled from underneath, while the other rose to cup her face. His thumb tenderly smoothed over her lips and the cum left on them.

  Unable to resist, he leaned forward and tasted himself on her, a light lick of his tongue against her lips. Fucking amazing.

  He hadn’t expected this.

  Explosive, mind-blowing sex? Yes, that he’d expected. Not only because of their first night together, but because of who she was. Given her nature, that curiosity and gleam in her eyes, and the way she’d light up from a kiss…it was a guarantee that she’d destroy him in bed.

  What was surprising, however, was how he felt. Sex, for him, had become something to finish, to get through. A way to make an easy physical connection with someone, and a way to make an emotional connection—even a brief one—that didn’t involve manipulation or mind games.

  No one would ever think him lonely, not with the bevy of beauties he’d been linked with. Yet that’s exactly what he was. Even the women he’d taken to bed before, after their tim
e in bed was done—sometimes even moments after—he felt lonely again.

  With Sarah, with his bella, he didn’t. Lying here, their legs tangled, their bodies uncovered and unashamed, he didn’t feel lonely.

  His heart felt…full.

  It was such an odd feeling. He didn’t think he’d ever felt full there before.

  He’d felt the emptiness. He always felt the emptiness. He’d learned to live with it, to accept it was there.

  A sudden fear gripped him, and his body tightened. How could he go back to that emptiness…to that loneliness…again? If he screwed this up—and he was bound to screw it up—how could he live without feeling full again? Now that he had that, he wanted to keep it.

  He wanted to keep her.

  Jesus Christ.

  “What’s wrong?” she murmured. Her eyes were barely open, her lips barely moved when she spoke.

  He cleared his throat, absently rubbing that spot on his chest she’d kissed. “Nothing, bella. Would you like a bath?”

  She cuddled closer. “Too sleepy.”

  He couldn’t resist; he cuddled closer to her, too. “I’ll do all the work.”

  Her lips tipped up. “I think you just did all the work.”

  “Worth it.”

  Her eyes shot open. “What?”

  He leaned down and brushed his lips lightly against hers. “All that work was worth it. You’re worth it.”

  He gazed deep into her eyes and wished he knew what she was thinking and feeling. Was she wondering about him, too? “I’ll start the bath.”

  After another lip brush, he turned and slid off the bed. He stretched as he rose, loosening up his muscles and making sure he was still steady on his feet.

  He ran his hand through his hair a few times in quick succession, then walked towards the bathroom.

  He’d do his damnedest to make the most of this opportunity together.

  * * *

  Sarah watched him go. The long, lean lines of his back and his muscles shifted with each step, his ass twitching with each one, too.

  God, he had a great ass. He had a great cock, too, and a magnificent body. Yet it was his mouth she loved most of all.

  Not just because of those lips.

  But, well, those lips were a weapon.

  It was his words that turned her on the most. She’d never thought dirty talk would do it for her. She’d had lovers in the past say things, but nothing like Rio.

  And none of them had ordered her around like Rio had, either.

  She loved it. Considering the throbbing she felt at her core, she really loved it.

  She liked losing control, in bed at least, which was a surprise. She certainly trusted Rio with her body—she wouldn’t have let him go on as he had if she didn’t. But this, what they’d shared, had been more than just sex. More than just two people meeting in the night. With the other men she’d slept with, she hadn’t even considered it, yet she felt safe doing it with Rio.

  Maybe because the other men had wanted Princess Sarah.

  Rio only wanted her: Sarah, his bella, the woman and not the title.

  She liked him, she realized. They weren’t strangers. If they ever had been strangers, she still couldn’t remember it, and might never remember it at this rate.

  Outside these walls, they were much more than strangers, at least to the world.

  She wondered, inside these walls, just how much about them was fake and how much was real.

  The water went on in the bathroom, the sound of the tub filling calming her. He walked back into the room a minute later. He strode to the bed, his dick still semi-hard—was it ever not? God, that man had stamina. She moved to sit up, but his arms swept under her and picked her up.

  With a little yelp, she settled in his arms and he carried her into the bathroom. This was exactly how he’d carry her if she were his bride crossing the threshold.

  She sucked in a breath. Where had that thought come from?

  His hand rubbed gently on her thigh. “Are you all right, bella? Did I hurt you?”

  She glanced up into fierce, probing eyes. “No, not at all.”

  He stopped at the foot of the giant tub, now swirling with jets of pumping water and a frothy, soft-scented bubble bath. “You sounded like you’re in pain.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  “Hmmm.”

  He could tell she wasn’t being truthful, but thankfully didn’t probe further.

  He gently lowered her into the water, her body sighing as the hot, hot water raced over her skin.

  “God, this feels good.”

  She sat and, to her surprise, he slipped in behind her. The tub was big enough that he could sit across from her, but he didn’t. He pulled her back against his chest and settled his arms around her.

  She nestled into him, the line of his dick against the small of her back. She imagined what it’d be like if he took her from behind, slipped that cock inside her, pounded into her.

  When she imagined his cock taking her ass, she started to squirm.

  “Is the water too hot, bella?”

  She shook her head, willing the throbbing between her thighs to stop.

  His hands—gentle, God, so gentle—floated down her arms, then back up to her shoulders. She felt his lips at her neck. “Sure, bella?”

  She nodded and tilted her head to the side, giving him more access. His chest rumbled in approval, and she felt that reverberate through her own body.

  She’d never been so turned on in her life. Not with any other man, not at any other time. Only with him.

  Was that what she was feeling? Maybe it wasn’t the beginnings of love, but just lust amplified a thousand times.

  His teeth nipped at her neck, and she felt a spear of heat in her core.

  Okay, maybe amplified a million times. Definitely at least a million.

  “Vittorio,” she breathed, her word getting lost in the steam around them.

  His hand dipped across her waist, over her hip, and then down, down, down. She spread her legs wide in anticipation.

  His voice rumbled as he spoke, and he slid his fingers into her. “So wet you are. Is it the water?”

  She mewled.

  “Or is it me?”

  His thumb brushed her clit and she moaned, arching against him.

  “Well?”

  Was he saying something?

  “Hmmm?”

  God, was she supposed to say something? Her body felt like it was on fire. “Oh God.”

  His hips started grinding against her, his cock slipping between her legs.

  “Oh God.”

  He growled, and she loved, loved the way that sound felt against her.

  His hand left her, and she cried out in protest. Then, in a haze of steam and sensation, she gasped as he whipped her around so they were face-to-face.

  “Ride me.”

  Her hips moved at his command. “Vittorio.”

  “Now. Hard. Fast. Rough.” He pulled her body flush against his and thrust inside with one hard stroke that left her breathless.

  “Oh God.” She moved to wrap her arms around his neck, but he shook his head.

  “I want your hands in your hair. You’re not to move them, understand me? Never. Not once.”

  “Fuck.” Shit. Fuck. Shit. The man knew how to turn her on, that was for fucking sure.

  Wanting to be a little dangerous, to drive him a little crazy, she drew her hands away from his neck to slide down his chest. She pushed back a little, giving them the barest space.

  Then she slid her hands up her own belly to cup her own breasts.

  His eyes turned molten, dark, and greedy.

  She played with her nipples as she started to ride him, the water sloshing in gentle waves to start.

  Her hands shifted up, up, up into her damp hair, where she fisted them, the light pain sending a spark of heat through her already flaming body.

  His hands were on her hips, holding her in case she lost her balance. Their bodies brushed, and her br
easts jumped with each downward glide.

  “Faster, bella.”

  “Vittorio.”

  His jaw was clenched tight, his words said in a short, staccato burst. “Faster, goddamn it. Faster.”

  She moaned and tilted her head back as she moved at his demand. His legs, long and powerful underneath her, helped her by lifting to meet her.

  She came first, her hands clenching even tighter against her scalp.

  He thrust in once, twice, three times quickly and let go.

  She wanted to collapse against him, cuddle in, and maybe stay there for three days.

  No, maybe four days. After four days, she might have recovered enough to move again.

  Was it normal to have this much sex? She’d never had a man’s words cause an orgasm so intense. He didn’t even need to use his cock to make her come. All she needed was his voice.

  Damn. She really wished she could remember their first night together. Yet maybe the new memories they were making were even better.

  “Christ, you’ve worn me out.”

  She slipped her hands out of her hair and moved to cup his face. “I think you’ve got that the wrong way around. I’m the one worn out.”

  His lips quirked. “Let’s just say we wore out each other.”

  She pecked him on the lips, resisting the urge to take it deeper. “A fine compromise. I approve.”

  She relaxed against him, her head tucked against his neck. She stayed that way for several minutes until he gently withdrew from her and lifted her up. Then he settled them back to their original position—her back to his front again.

  His legs were bent next to her arms, and she drew absent patterns on his knees with her fingers.

  “Do you remember a lot about our first night?”

  He nuzzled her neck for a moment. “Most of it.”

  “Was…was it like this between us that night?”

  “Yes and no.”

  She twisted her neck back to look at him, asking him to continue with her eyes.

  He cupped her face, his hand wet but warm. “Were you this hot, this needy that first night? Yes. Did you let me take charge? Yes.”

  His thumb brushed over her lips. “But this…connection we seem to have, that was not there that first night. You feel it, bella, don’t you?”

  She whispered against his thumb. “Yes.”

  “That first night, I saw you at the event. Mingling, men circling you, wanting you. You could feel their desire across the damn ballroom. On some, you could even see it.”

 

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