Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 113710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
With my arms draped over Dante’s broad shoulders, I rise off his cock until only the tip remains before slowly sinking back down. My legs shake as the thick girth of his cock stretches me, but the lust burning in his eyes as he watches me ride him makes the pain bearable, so I continue.
In minutes, I discover a comfortable speed for both of us, and it surrounds me with euphoria.
I have the control and the power, and Dante doesn’t seem the least bit fazed by it.
The knowledge sees me riding him quickly. While gripping his shoulders, I move my hips with each descent, taking him a little more. He’s so deep it’s almost painful, but I keep going, eager to take everything he’s willing to give.
“Christ, angelo,” Dante grunts, matching my sentiments exactly.
It feels amazing, almost unreal. So addictive that I’ll find it hard not to want another dose as soon as this high ends.
God, I wish I could do that. I’d give anything to feel this level of euphoria again, but it isn’t possible. I have a cargo ship of secrets, and even more shame.
“Help me,” I demand, too caught up in the darkness in my head to continue going it alone.
Dante doesn’t wait for further instructions. With his hand on my hip, he thrusts upward, stuffing inches upon inches of his cock inside me.
I scream out in shock, loving both the spasm of pain and the sparks of lust rushing through my core. He’s so deep I can feel my stomach shifting, trying to give him more space.
“Take me, angelo. Accept me inside you.” I scream his name inside my head on repeat as he slams into me over and over again. He guides me up and down the rigid length of his cock, leaving my shame for dust. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? A moment to escape? To be free of the torment?”
“Yes!” My moan is in response to both his question and the brutal pounding he’s giving me.
I move on instinct, grinding against him and taking him as deep inside as I can. His moans and the words he speaks while fucking me send my excitement soaring. I’ve never been more electrified.
I come with a desperate gasp, my pussy rippling around him. Skin slapping skin booms around the Viper Room for several long seconds as my body convulses through the most brutal orgasm I’ve ever had.
Dante keeps going, though.
He keeps pounding into me, fierce grunts ripping from his throat.
He fucks me the way he needs to, and I allow him to use me.
The intensity of his thrusts as he drives into me pushes me to the edge of release again in record time. I match his rhythm grind for grind, certain I’ll lose myself to sexual depravity if I don’t climax within the next five minutes.
I need my next thrill as badly as I want to feel the twitches of Dante’s cock when he loses control.
“Fuck,” he grunts, his hips pistoning.
The power of his body and the control he can exude over it have me quivering in the throes of ecstasy for the fourth time. I climax with a cry as lust brutally etches Dante’s face with need.
I’m not the only one spiraling out of control.
He’s right there with me.
He growls my name as he comes. The feeling of his release inside me, even with it being in a condom, prolongs my orgasm. My teeth clench as stars blister.
While riding the hysteria I was raised to never expect and not ask for, I bury my face in his neck.
I’m open, vulnerable, and exposed, so I have nothing to protect me when his following words pull the carpet out from beneath me. “Fuck, Lucia. That was amazing.”
He knows my name.
My real name.
That isn’t good, and it means one thing.
I can never see him again.
That name bears lies that could tear him apart as easily as they’ll destroy me. They could upend everything he’s trying to do for his daughter, and for some foolish reason, that hurts me more than what I have to do next.
I force my expression into something I hope appears charming. I’ve been told more than once that I have a Hannibal Lecter smile when I find myself in an uncomfortable situation.
My smile is fragile, made from glass, but my voice escapes with a sultry purr thanks to the husky rawness of countless orgasms. “Hold still.”
Dante arches a dark brow when I reach for his tie. Even while he screwed me to a near comatose state, the upper half of his body remained fully clothed. His dress shirt is crinkled but relatively untouched, and his suit jacket conceals the muscles he used to drive me senseless.
The only clothing he’s shed is his pants and boxer shorts, which are huddled near his shoe-covered feet.