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“You asked me to punish you tonight, sweet girl. Tell me why,” he whispered.
“Because I want it,” I said softly, a shiver running down my spine.
“I want you thinking about something very specific as I wash all this dirt and soot and smoke off you, little girl. I’m going to use my belt to mark that beautiful little ass. Not because you’ve been naughty, but because I want to. Then after that, I’m going to punish that beautiful virgin asshole of yours with my cock.”
“My… oh, please, not that,” I whispered.
“Tonight, you put yourself in serious danger. Not only did you eavesdrop on a potentially dangerous conversation, but you followed one of them alone,without me, didn’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” I replied, my voice plaintive.
“Normally when I punish your naughty asshole with my cock, I won’t let you come, but since I spoil you, I’m going to make you come as many times as I want.”
“Sir,” I blushed. My clit throbbed to life like a little goddamn traitor. I shouldn’t think this was hot. I shouldn’t want him to actually make good on his threat, but I couldn’t deny that a part of me wanted just that.
My bottom hole clenched.
“Let me tell you a secret though,la mia bambina.Your ingenuity saved us tonight and without you, the two of us may not even be alive right now, so when my cock is deep in that tight little asshole, and you’re screaming my name with tears pouring down your cheeks as you come for me, remember how proud of you I am.”
“Oh,” I stammered.
He cupped my face and reached for me, brushing his thumbs over my cheekbones as he pulled me in for another soft kiss. His hands never left me, his grip firm yet tender as he held me against the cool glass of the shower wall, his mouth moving over mine with a hunger that stole the air from my lungs. The water cascaded over us, hot and steamy, the pressure like a constant drumbeat against my skin. I could feel the desire radiating off him, an intensity that matched the wild rhythm of my heart.
But then, to my surprise, he slowed. His lips softened, his kisses growing gentler, more languid, as if savoring every second. He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against mine, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His hands moved to cup my face, his thumbs brushing over my cheeks with a tenderness that made my chest ache.
“Bella,” he murmured, his voice deep and warm. “Let me take care of you.”
I blinked up at him, my breath hitching in my throat, the words catching me off guard. He held my gaze, his eyes dark and full of promise, and I felt myself nodding, my body responding to the unspoken question in his eyes.
He smiled, a soft, almost boyish smile, and gently set me down. The water streamed over us, but his touch remained steady, his hands moving slowly over my arms, my shoulders, as if mapping every inch of my skin. He reached for a bottle of soap, pouring a small amount into his palm, the scent of jasmine filling the air.
“Turn around,” he whispered, his lips brushing against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.
I did as he asked, turning to face the glass, feeling his hands slide down my back, the lather of the soap warm and slick against my skin. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as he began to wash me, his fingers tracing the lines of my spine, the curve of my waist. I closed my eyes, letting the sensation wash over me, the feel of his hands, the heat of the water, the steady thrum of desire that built with his every caress.
He moved closer, his chest pressing against my back, his breath warm on my neck as he continued to bathe me, his hands sliding over my hips, my stomach, the lower curves of my ass, his touch achingly slow.
His lips found my shoulder, placing soft kisses there, trailing up to my neck as his hands moved over me, his fingers dancing across my skin, leaving me trembling under his touch. I leaned back against him, my head falling onto his shoulder, a soft sigh escaping my lips.
“Massimo,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the sound of the water. “What are you doing to me?”
He chuckled softly, his breath tickling my ear. “Taking my time,” he murmured, his hands moving to cup my breasts, his thumbs brushing over my nipples, making me gasp. “I want to feel every inch of you, memorize every curve… make you mine in every way.”
A soft moan escaped me, my body arching into his touch, my desire reaching a fever pitch. His hands continued their exploration, sliding down to my thighs, massaging the tension there, coaxing soft sounds from my lips that I couldn’t hold back.
He reached for the shampoo next, his hands tangling in my hair, working the lather into a rich foam. His fingers massaged my scalp, gentle and soothing, and I felt a wave of relaxation wash over me, mingling with the heat of the desire building between us. I closed my eyes, letting myself drift in the feel of his touch, feeling his breath against my skin.
He rinsed my hair, his hands moving with careful precision, his touch never wavering. When the last of the soap had been washed away, he turned me back to face him, his hands framing my face once more, his eyes searching mine with an intensity that made my knees weak.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “Do you know that?”
I felt a blush creep up my cheeks, my heart fluttering in my chest. “I?—”
Before I could respond, he kissed me again, his lips capturing mine with a renewed urgency, a passion that stole the breathfrom my lungs. His hands moved to my waist, pulling me against him, and I felt the heat of his body, the strength of his desire.
The kiss deepened, the water streaming around us, and I felt my body melt into his, every nerve alive, every sense on fire. His hands roamed over me, his touch becoming more insistent, more desperate, as if he couldn’t get enough.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, needing to feel him, needing him to fill every empty space inside me. His lips moved to my jaw, then down to my neck, his teeth grazing my skin, sending jolts of pleasure straight through me.