Page 97 of Dirty Mafia Torment

“I’m not your babe.”

That’s my girl. Not willing to give an inch. But fuck knows I’m all about taking a mile. Multiple, especially if the end result is getting off.

I wrap my hand around my cock and stroke. Rinsing off the dirt first, then adding pressure, squeezing, stroking.

A glance tells me she’s still on the bed, knuckles white, eyes locked on me.

Eating this shit up.

My dick swells with goddamn pride.

“So, what would you like to do today?” I ask, cool as can be.

Her words are drunk slow. “Can’t we chat … um … afterward?”

“Can’t wait. Besides, my conversation with Dante will be predictably long.” I thrust my hips, now riding my hand, intense pleasure taking over.

“You deserve his … oh, OH!”

I relish her excitement as it bleeds into my own.

Eyes closed, I lean into it, fueling it with thoughts of Fina. Taking me deep. Letting me in. Taking what she wants. Letting go.

“Tell me to go harder,” I command.

I’m met with silence.

Scattered like a little scared rabbit, didn’t she?

I hear her clear her throat, then, “Harder.”

I smirk. Thought I lost her.

Her next words are louder. “Harder, I said.”

Fuck yeah. “That’s right. Boss me around. Show me how you want it.”

Her voice cuts through the steam. “I still hate you.”

“Noted.”

“Good. Now face me.”

Eyes still closed, I turn.

“Hold it out. Like you’re offering it.”

I wrap my fingers around the base and extend it toward her.

“Now smack it into your palm. Hard.”

I obey. Once. Twice. Three times. Each one driving me closer. My knees grow weak. It’s been so long since I’ve felt this good. “You’re in control. Say I can come.”

“Not yet,” she informs me. “Stroke it.”

Control teeters. The burn is better than any high I’ve chased. I see her on her knees, lips parted, ropes biting her skin. “Jesus. Fucking hell,” I groan.

“Okay. Come.”