Page 53 of Bellini Born

When I began to beg him to resume the near-violent pace that brought with it both pain and pleasure, I realized how far gone I was. The thrill of danger had proven to be the ultimate aphrodisiac, and I was damn near desperate to be consumed by the orgasm that promised to put all others that had come before it to shame.

“Matteo,” I whined as he worked me over so lazily it drove me insane.

The pace was pure torture, and my attempts to make him move faster were futile. He was much too strong for me to overpower.

I could feel his hard cock pressed against my hip and decided to take matters into my own hands.

Abandoning my hold on his forearm, I found the waistband of his sports shorts and dipped inside. When I wrapped my fingers around his hot length, he hissed.

I tightened my grip, and with a groan, Matteo thrust into my hand. Burying his face in my neck, he panted, “Fuck. Summer.”

A sense of satisfaction flooded my system that, while he might be asserting his dominance, I still had the power to bring him to his knees.

Knees. Damn, what I wouldn’t give to drop to mine and flip the tables, tease him until he was the one begging. My mouth filled with saliva at the mere thought.

Maybe next time. Unless I quit in the morning, which wasn’t happening, there was no way I would be able to resist temptation while continuing to live in the same house as this man.

But I couldn’t worry about that now. Not when he held my life in his hand and I held his pleasure in mine.

Returning my attention to my current task, I noticed his cock gliding smoothly against my palm, a slickness coating it.

That was strange. Sure, some guys leaked a bead or two of precum, but this felt like more than that.

He didn’t come already, did he?

No, that couldn’t be it, or else he wouldn’t still be hard.

Curiosity got the better of me, and I dared to peek down.

Holy shit. Was that . . .

I blinked a few times, convinced that my eyes were playing tricks on me in the dim lighting.

Nope, it wasn’t an illusion. Matteo’s mouthwateringly thick and long shaft was covered in blood.

My core involuntarily clenched around the gun still shoved inside it at the sight. I was learning all kinds of new things about myself and what turned me on tonight, because watching as I smeared streaks of crimson on his skin with each stroke mightjust be the most erotic display I’d ever seen. And I didn’t even know which one of us was bleeding. Hell, I didn’t care.

The moan I let out was so loud it had Matteo rearing back. His gaze must’ve tracked where my eyes were glued because he sucked in a sharp breath. “That’s so fucking hot.”

Hypnotized, unable to look away, I agreed with an “mm-hmm.”

“Tell me who you belong to, Summer.” His command came out strained, and his dick swelled in my hand, like he was seconds away from exploding.

When I opened my mouth to reply, he began fucking me with the gun in earnest again, and only a whimper came out. The overwhelming rush of pleasure stole the very breath from my lungs, and I rose on my tiptoes as I tried to escape the sheer intensity of its onslaught.

His free hand collared my throat and squeezed. The lack of oxygen made me gasp.

“I-I—” I struggled to form a coherent thought, my nervous system on overload.

“Tell me, or I won’t let you come,” he growled.

Those were the magic words, and breathlessly, I cried, “You! I’m yours!”

“Mine. All fucking mine.”

His claiming words set me over the top. My back bowed, and every muscle in my body grew taut as unending waves of ecstasy crashed over me so forcefully that, for a moment, I thought I might pass out. Through fuzzy hearing, I was vaguely aware of someone screaming Matteo’s name on repeat, and my raw throat would suggest that someone was me.

This whole interaction had felt like an out-of-body experience, so it was only fitting that the release that came as a result would be otherworldly as well.