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ISABELLA

T he water scalds my skin, prickling, tingling.

It doesn’t compare to the fire of Alessandro’s skin, hot under my chilled hands. He's in my grip as soon as we get in the shower, gasping as I shove him back against the shower wall. Those deep, dark eyes light up, igniting something deep inside me again, stoking the already raging desire that he’s drawn out of me.

“Your hand is freezing !” He laughs. I raise my eyebrows.

“My mouth isn’t though.” I drop to my knees.

He’s utterly irresistible, even as my body shivers uncontrollably from the frozen venture into the blizzard. Heat floods through me at the sight of every stiff inch of him, the line of his abs running straight up to that smoldering stare, watching me take all of him into my mouth.

I knew the moment I had him last night, once he became part of me, that I needed more. That I needed to taste him, touch him, and have him inside me again and again.

It’s game over.

I’m so screwed.

But I let those thoughts fade to the background, caught up in the moment, enjoying him for as long as I can.

Sucking firmly on the tip, I lick him from the base of his shaft all the way to the top. “I've been dying to taste you ever since I saw you last night.”

It’s truly all I’ve been able to think about, the thickness and length of it plowing into me.

Again, I slide him entirely down my throat, relaxing to swallow him, moaning as I feel the head of his dick swell in my mouth.

“Holy fuck, Isabella,” he growls, moaning above me, his fingers tethering into my soaked hair. The silky smooth sensation of him slipping along my lips tastes so sweet, gliding across my tongue, hitting the back of my throat, making me open wider, pulling my lips along tightly to make him shout my name.

Honey and salt coat my tongue, dripping from him as I suck, chills zipping up my back from the thought of making him wet. My core is pulsing with longing, desperate for him to fill. Even more so when he flexes his thighs, my fingers clamping down over them, bracing myself as he clenches his ass and thrusts himself deeper.

My lips hit the base of his cock and a wave of arousal surges through me as he grunts, a low, rough outburst.

Pursing my lips tighter, I drag him out as slow as I can, inhaling through my nose and moaning a vibrating whine of ecstasy, flicking my tongue around the head, teasing and coaxing him to clench, arching up, harder than ever.

Alessandro’s head is thrown back, his eyes closed, his chest heaving. He’s completely lost in his pleasure.

My pleasure.

That only I can give him.

One hand drifts to the back of my head as I linger on the tip, begging me, pushing me to devour him again. So I plummet, gulping him down to the hilt, again, and again.

My hands wrap around to clutch at his legs, pulling him into my mouth harder, faster, showing him how I like it, how I love him fucking my mouth.

And Alessandro willingly complies with my efforts, beginning to buck his hips in time with my mouth, pumping into my throat and gripping my head firmly.

His hamstrings harden in my hands, my fingernails scraping along the skin, making his moans deepen to groans, then shouts as he lets loose, pumping smoothly into my throat. I’ve lost track of the water, the steam, the heat.

There’s only this.

Just when I think he’s going to go all the way, preparing myself to take him all, swallow him whole…

He stops, holding me tightly, his dick slowly sliding out.

I gasp as it pops from between my lips, lunging my head slightly to lick, trying to take him again.

A devilish, masculine grin spreads across his face. Along with a little shake of his head.

I wanted to finish him off, make him empty himself into me. I need to taste him, drink him.

But he has other plans.

Wrapping my hair around his fingers, he tugs upwards, pulling me to my feet, a hint of roughness jerking me upright. Another tug pulls my head back, exposing my neck to him.

He dives in, biting my neck, swirling his tongue along my flesh, his hand finding my breast, palming it, and rolling my nipples between his middle finger and thumb.

The movements, the touches are sharper, rougher.

And just the right amount of pain to make me tremble inside, my knees weakening, my pussy throbbing in anticipation of him.

His other hand runs down my belly, cupping into my crotch, two fingers spreading me open and slipping along my folds, back up, exposing my clit in a shock of bliss.

Every time I think, I hope, that he’ll bury one of those fingers inside me, he pulls back, waiting. Taunting me. He drags those slicked fingers up, rolling in tight circles, building my pleasure up, raising me closer to my threshold.

My clit is aching, almost as much as my center, desperate for him to touch it again every time he slides back down, hinting at my opening, making me insane.

“Stop torturing me and do it!” I bite for his lip and he smiles, pulling away.

He knows just how to touch me. There's an intensity to this, a control that he’s savoring with each arch of my back. When I reach for him to grip his shaft, to squeeze him, he dodges my hand, pinning it against my side.

“Not. Yet.”

He cups his hand between my legs again, raising me up onto my toes, yanking gently back on my hair to force me to tip my head back for him. Only then does he hook two fingers impossibly slowly into me, curling to press against the perfect knot of lust swelling inside me.

My eyes drag back, my lids fluttering. But I want to look at him, to keep his stark, simmering gaze locked on mine.

I feel myself getting wild, losing control, just as he takes control.

I can’t take much more of this. I need him.

Now.

But he’s holding himself back. Contained.

Unlike last night, he’s plotting, carefully rationing my pleasure and enjoying every sweet second of my misery.

Keeping the tension on my hair, he spins me to face the water, letting it patter onto my chest as he presses against me from behind, the curve of him fitting perfectly into me. I feel him slide between my ass cheeks, between my legs, my folds spreading over his shaft.

His arm encircles me gripping my torso closer to him, claiming me as his, just as my hand drifts down to stroke the tip of him poking out from between my thighs. A sharp inhale hisses in my ear at the touch and I open my mouth to say his name, to sing his praise…

But his hand clamps around my throat, just hard enough to silence me.

There’s not an ounce of fear in me at the gesture, just acquiescence.

Still, he doesn't give me what I want.

He doesn't fill me. He just keeps alternating, dragging those two delicious fingers up. swirling around my clit before driving them back down again. And as he does, he slides back between my cheeks, allowing his fingers to slip in, then back out, thrusting himself between my thighs, back and forth.

Even that sensation is scintillating, overwhelming.

The whole time, his arm loops around me, keeping me supported, keeping me floating just above him as he slowly rocks his hips back and forth thrusting his cock across my cunt.

This time when he drives his fingers in, he shifts, sliding up between my buttocks, grinding and finding a bit of satisfaction for himself.

There’s the animal in him, the creature he keeps carefully leashed, barely held at bay.

I rest my head back against his shoulder, opening my eyes to see him studying me, looking for any sign of hesitance at his grip around my neck.

But I hold his gaze.

Pushing down that little thrill, that hint of terror that this man has killed before. He could kill me and there’s nothing I could do about it.

It makes me hate him.

And hate myself for how much I love it.

That aggression, fury, passion are the very things that attract me to him, make him impossible for me to resist. It has me melting in his hand.

Alessandro adds a third finger to his teasing assault, adding more pressure to that bundle of nerves, right where I need it.

Right where I need him.

His teeth nip at my ear, clamping down, his fingers pressing, releasing, pressing, releasing.

I won’t last another minute this way. The tension is tectonic, volcanic.

Yet somehow, he keeps delaying my release, taking me to another level of mind-numbing stimulation without reaching completion.

The need for him to give me what I need is overwhelming everything else.

My mind is screaming for him, utter hunger and desperation.

I’m about to come undone, lose myself completely.

And not just in physical ecstasy. He’s unraveling me.

He’s making himself the sole focus of my world, his fingers inside me, his chest pressed against my back, his hand at my throat.

I start to shake, his arm tightening to keep me tight to his chest, controlling the rise of the oncoming torrent. When it comes, he’s supporting me entirely, my legs giving out, my whole frame contorting to the writhing waves of ecstasy.

I buck and rock against his arms and I feel his eyes on me through it all, drinking it in, his breath held. The aftershocks are too much, surging through me again and again, and he still won’t let me go.

My body goes limp against him.

That’s when he turns me around, lifting me completely off the ground. My legs automatically wrap around his middle. And for a second, he stands there, his arms wrapped around me, supporting my ass, his swollen tip resting against my clit.

Alessandro’s avid gaze takes me in, from the top of my head, to my eyes, my lips, my neck. Down, he traces every trickle of water along my breasts, my stomach, and lower.

I watch as he plunges himself into me with one swift, sure thrust.

Even after so much foreplay, after three fingers and an orgasm, he stretches me to the limit, so full. My inner walls envelop him like he was made to be there.

I can barely move in this position. But I don’t need to.

Aless presses my back against the tiled wall, pinning me in place and hooking his forearms under my knees.

Only then does he start, deep, grinding thrusts, driving me to the edge with every push.

It's exquisite. Right on the verge of pleasure and pain.

A place where Alessandro resides.

The overstimulation of one orgasm makes it all that much more intense. All I can do is keep my arms wrapped around his neck, my legs looped over his arms.

His breath quickens, my own coming in whimpering gasps, and he claims my mouth, biting my lip and pulling on it, fixating on it like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered here.

The next thrust almost knocks the wind out of me and with it I scream, “Yes! Fuck me, fuck me as hard as you can!”

There's a split second of frozen time. I opened my eyes.

His teeth are bared. His eyes half-lidded, boring into me, asking me if I’m truly ready for him to give me what I’m asking for. All I can do is dig my nails into the back of his neck.

Deeply, painfully. Drawing blood.

He never stopped thrusting, but now he’s gaining speed, harder, deeper.

Our bodies slam together, pounding into the wall, both of us crying out, wailing in rapture.

Again and again and again.

He hammers into me, charging me up for an eruption that I’m sure will break me. It’s the ferocity of the storm battering the house, tearing my mind apart.

Shattering me to pieces and putting me back together again.

I’m rising toward a peak unlike anything I’ve ever felt.

It's catastrophic.

My entire body clenches, near the edge of total fatigue, holding onto him for dear life. The tidal wave starts at the tip of my head, rushing through me like a tsunami. Along the back of my neck, through my arms, thundering down my back, my legs, and out through my toes.

My nails tear into his back as he reaches his own climax, drawing out a shout, a guttural howl, “Isabella!!”

“More, more!” It’s all I can scream.

Every muscle quakes in his arms, my body completely held up by his strength. I've lost all control, shuttering, pinned against him as he unloads every ounce of himself, filling me and spilling over down onto the shower floor.

It’s hotter than the shower, flooding my body with boiling heat.

The final scream that tears from my throat is animal, feral, just like him.

I've come alive. I've awakened and nothing will ever be the same again.

I want him to take me like this over and over and over again until I can barely walk.

Even as he's gasping, hanging on to me, his head pressed into the wall behind me, I can hear the growl in every breath he takes in. “More. You said you want more?”

“Yes, I need more. Never stop.”

“Me too.”

We're still soaking wet when we hit his bedsheets.

Kissing takes over the narrative again, sensual, drawn out. Alessandro has my head spinning the way his tongue toys with mine, the way he sucks on my bottom lip.

Before I know it, he’s sliding into me again, this time easing himself inside torturously slow.

I savor every sensation as he does, rolling my hips to settle him into my deepest corners. After the sweltering heat of our passion in the shower, the chilly room is refreshing, invigorating.

Aless licks a stray rivulet of water from my jaw, running his tongue up to my ear.

“I’m never going to stop making you come…”

The words have as much an effect as his grinding prowess, heightening my arousal and pushing me toward yet another quivering release.

“Oh, my God, you’re gonna make me?—”

It shudders through me again, tingling through my inner thighs, the aura of flushing exultation shooting like lightning through my muscles, spreading out from my core like fireworks.

Spots explode behind my eyelids, and another orgasm looms as Alessandro flexes and holds himself as deep as he can go.

“Oh, no, I can’t?—”

“Yes you can.” He grins, pure arrogance and pride. “I'm not done with you yet.”

And I wouldn’t dare argue with him. He’s completely in control. It's a command, an order. With a nudge he tells me what he wants.

And I happily comply, turning over to thrust my ass up into the air at him, the glistening mess of our sex trickling down between my legs. My palms trail back between my thighs, smearing it, rubbing my aching muscles and hypersensitive skin.

I feel him there behind me, his fist clutching his cock as he lines himself up, running the tip up and down my entrance, opening me to him. It’s ultimate vulnerability, my arms pinned under me, my ass cheeks spread wide, inviting him.

There’s something torn between vicious joy and tenderness when he asks, “Can you take it again? Rougher than last time?”

His voice is low, barely above a whisper.

All I can do is nod.

My hands wrap into the sheets, bracing for what I know is coming. When he claims me again, it’s all-consuming.

“Oooh…” I can’t help moaning.

My ass jiggles as he pounds in again, forceful, controlled. It quickly increases in speed and intensity, a roaring rush of blood filling my ears as I clutch at the bed. This is the longest, fullest orgasm yet, coiling like a spring inside me, building over minutes, over countless brutal thrusts of Alessandro’s massive dick.

I’m biting the sheets, scrambling for any sense of self-control, but there’s only him. Only us. Only this

All I can feel is where we meet, my mind disconnecting in sheer, unrelenting bliss.

Neither of us can even form words as he slams into me from behind, his hips hammering into my ass cheeks, slapping that sweet, disastrous mess between us.

It starts with my legs, buckling and quaking.

He’s taut, tensed, his pumps shortening, grinding deeper.

Heat pours off of him in waves over my back, his hands locked around my hips, pulling us together again and again.

“Don’t stop!” I manage to scream, muffled in the mattress. Even though I can’t possibly take much more of this.

My final, soul-rendering release snaps, exploding though me, just as I feel him start to shake, pressing me down onto my stomach, both of us utterly spent. The molten rush of his cum spills into me, sending chills all over my skin.

I fade immediately, drifting into a light sleep, then back. We're curled up, spooning, Alessandro wrapped tightly around me.

We lay like that for hours.

And I know then, in the short days that I've known Alessandro, I've completely fallen in love with him.