Page 19 of Forgive Me, Father (Don #1)

I kissed her mound before I lifted my head and moved toward her. She locked eyes with me, her breath coming in shallow, rapid gasps.

“How was that?” I asked.

“Amazing,” she breathed and touched my cheek.

“I’m sorry.”

Her fingers brushed lightly over my lips before she shook her head. “It’s in the past. We focus on the future now.”

I nodded, and in an instant, she pushed me back, rolling me over, and her body sliding over mine as she straddled me. She pressed hard against my cock, and a low groan escaped me.

Never in a million years did I imagine this would be how our conversation would end. I had expected a fight, something fierce, after all, she had a temper just as sharp and unyielding as mine.

But this, this I craved. I reached for her, gently cupping her cheek in my hand, savoring the warmth of her skin beneath my touch as she rubbed herself along my cock.

My finger pushed into her mouth, and she sucked hard on my thumb.

All her actions were turning me on, and I was sure that I’d lose myself completely if she decided to stop now. The need would consume me whole.

She brushed my arm aside, her head dipping down and her lips crashed on mine. My hands rested on her naked ass, kneading her buttocks hard, while she continued rubbing against my cock. I was so fucking hard and ready to fuck.

“I want to fuck you,” I hissed out, and she laughed.

“I don’t understand Italian, Alfonso.”

“Sorry, I said that I want to fuck you.”

“Oh, I bet you do.”

I cupped the back of her neck, pulling her closer as I sat up, our lips still tangled in a heated kiss. She toyed with the hem of my jeans, her fingers brushing the button until it popped open.

My cock pressed tightly against the zipper of my jean and Camilla stroked my erection through the material.

A groan left my lips as she was only complicating things further for herself, but I had no intention of telling her to stop.

I removed my shirt with a few pulls while she tugged on my jeans, awkward movements, as her gaze took in my naked torso.

I was glad I was a distraction and decided to help. I flipped her off me and pulled my jeans down my legs. When they landed at my ankles, I kicked them off.

My briefs were next.

My erection jumped free, and she reached for it without hesitation. Her fingers curled around my shaft and she stroked it hard, as I lay back next to her.

“Fuck,” a groan left my lips.

“Do you like that?” she asked huskily. “I need to know if I’m doing it right.”

“Yes,” I replied. “Don’t stop.”

She grabbed my lips with hers while her hand still eagerly stroked my length. Her grip was almost as tight as her pussy, and for some reason, she started fussing too. I wasn’t playing with her, and she was far too caught up with me to bother playing with herself either.

I guess she got turned on by my arousal too. She was a remarkable creature, far more sexual than she could ever begin to realize.

“Fuck, I want you so badly,” she whimpered against my lips.

The beast came out in me as I pulled her hand away from my length, gripped her waist, lifted her effortlessly on top of me, my gaze locked on hers.

I had to feel for her opening again, but this time, she met me halfway, then pushed herself onto me.

"Porca miseria! Vaffanculo! Che cazzo stai facendo?" The cusses spewed from my lips at how her pussy choked my cock. The euphoria was going to be the death of me.

“Are you okay?” I asked breathlessly.

She nodded, but I knew tomorrow she was going to be sore. She was already a bit drier than she had been a few minutes ago.

“Where’s the lube?” I demanded.

“I think it’s in the drawer.”

I growled. Fuck that. I spat on my hand and pulled her off my cock, smearing her with my spit, and then lowered her back on top of me. It became easier, but it was still fucking tight. I wasn’t going to last long as I guided the movement of her body.

“Fuck,” I grunted as I pumped her faster. She held on to my wrists as I plunged her pussy onto my cock time and time again. I rolled us over and had her on her back and rammed into her.

Her complaints turned into little yelps as I sank deeper into her, faster.

My finger found her clit again, and I stroked her while I fucked her. She was becoming wetter with each stroke.

I could feel my orgasm starting to build as my mind clouded, but I didn’t want this to stop.

My finger circled her clit faster.

“Please,” she begged. “Please don’t stop. I’m going to come.”

I quickened my pace, so close now I could feel the edge pulling me under, but she needed to come first. My finger stroked her swollen nub faster as she screamed, fisting the sheets. “Don’t you dare stop.”

I obliged and continue fucking her like my life depended on it. “You need to come, little runaway. I’m close.”

“Don’t you dare fucking stop now,” she growled. The need was in her voice, and it felt like my mind was on the verge of losing control.

Raw grunts tore from deep within me, driven by something primal I couldn’t hold back.

My finger still worked her clit, and finally the scream tore from her lips as her pussy convulsed around my cock.

Her juices poured from her, taking me over the edge. I pulled out and came all over her stomach.

I grunted like a bear as I spilled my sperm. She laughed, satisfied. Music to my ears that my little runaway enjoyed me as much as I enjoyed her.

My mind was hazy, and I rolled onto my back next to her, trying to catch my breath. The heat clung to every corner of the room, thick and stifling, I needed a shower, badly.

She could use one too, the flush in her cheeks and the sheen on her skin saying more than words ever could.

The fact that the bedside light was on was a shocker. Usually, women wanted darkness to shy away in on their first time, but not my little runaway. Oh no, she ran to the light.

She laughed softly, then let her head fall against my shoulder. I pressed a kiss to her hair, breathing her in. She was my home now, chaotic, beautiful, unexpected. And no matter what it took, I’d find a way to make this work. I had to.