Page 2 of Sworn to the Enemy

The air between us is thick, charged, like the storm brewing outside.

His gaze remains hotly, on my face, then trails down my body in a sensual descent.

It's like licking a trail down my body. I tremble, not from cold but from the raw need pulsing through me. He hasn’t touched me yet, but I feel him everywhere.

His gaze is like a caress that sets me alight.

“Bellissima,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble, that Italian accent curling around the word like smoke.

He steps closer, his suit jacket brushing my arm, the fabric cool against my flushed skin.

My nipples harden. They strain against the air, and his eyes drop, noticing, his lips twitching into a half-smile.

God, that smile. It’s dangerous, promising things I’m not sure I can handle, but I want it all.

I want him to break me open, to make me forget who I am, just for tonight.

He reaches out, his fingers grazing my collarbone. It's slow, it's deliberate. The touch is electric, shooting sparks down my spine, and I bite my lip to stifle a moan. His hand trails lower, skimming the swell of my breast, his thumb brushing my nipple, teasing, not quite giving me what I want.

“You’re shaking,” he says, voice rough, his eyes locked on mine. “Nervous?”

So, he's the type to talk a woman through it.

I shake my head, defiant, even as my body betrays me, trembling under his touch. “No,” I whisper, my voice hoarse. “I want this.”

His smile widens, all teeth, predatory. “Good.”

His hand cups my breast, squeezing, his thumb circling my nipple until it’s a tight peak, aching for more.

I gasp, my head tipping back, and he steps closer, his body pressing against mine, the hard planes of his chest, his thighs, pinning me.

I feel his cock, thick and hard through his pants, pressing against my stomach, and my core clenches, wet heat pooling between my legs.

God, I’m already dripping for him, and he’s barely started.

He leans down, his lips brushing my ear, his breath hot. “I’m going to fuck you until you scream,” he says, and the words hit like a spark, igniting me.

I grab his shirt, my fingers fumbling with the buttons, desperate to feel his skin. He chuckles. “Let me.”

He steps back, and already, my skin feels bereft.

I watch him with hooded eyes as he shrugs out of his jacket, then his shirt, until he’s bare from the waist up.

His chest is sculpted, dusted with dark hair and abs that are to-die-for.

My breath snags as my eyes catch the tattoo on his forearm.

I step closer , my eyes trained on his forearm as he flexes it.

My tongue itches to trace the artistry of it.

It looks like a sugar skull adorned with intricate details that seem to dance in the shadows.

Delicate roses bloom around the skull, their petals unfolding like tender whispers, vibrant and full of life.

The bold black lines and subtle gray shading gave the design a haunting beauty, as if the skull itself is being reclaimed by the lushness of the flowers.

This man, whoever he is, isn't someone to cross. Good thing I'm only in it for tonight. Nothing more, nothing less.

I raise a finger to trace the ink of the tattoo, my fingers shaking. He grabs my wrist, pulling my hand to his mouth, kissing my palm, his tongue flicking out, hot and wet.

My body turns to mesh. I moan softly, and he pulls me against him, his lips crashing into mine.

The kiss is fierce, his tongue wreaking havoc in my mouth as he draws mine into his mouth, sucking, licking, twirling.

His hands roam my back, gripping my ass, squeezing hard.

I press closer, my breasts flattening against his chest, my hips grinding against his hard cock, seeking friction.

He groans into my mouth, his fingers digging into my flesh, and it makes me feel powerful. Like I’m unraveling him as much as he’s unraveling me. “Fuck,” he mutters, breaking the kiss, his lips trailing down my neck, sucking, biting, leaving marks I’ll feel tomorrow. But, I don't care.

He pushes me back, guiding me to the bed.

I don't hesitate. The silk sheets cool against my skin as I fall onto it.

He looms over me, his dark eyes predatory.

I spread my legs, completely shameless, wanting him to see how much I want this.

His gaze drops, and he licks his lips. My pussy clenches and I swallow a moan.

A low growl rumbles in his chest. “Look at you,” he says, voice thick. His hands move down inch by torturous inch. I stare, enraptured as he undoes his belt, the clink of metal loud in the quiet room. “So wet for me.”

He slides his pants off and I see the telltale sign of his erection. Fuck. I lick my lips. His boxers go next, and I suck in a breath. His cock is thick, long, hard, the tip glistening. I see the crisscross of veins mapped out like a design. My mouth waters, my core throbbing with desperate need.

He climbs onto the bed. His hands grip my thighs, spreading them wider.

I’m exposed, vulnerable, but I don’t care.

I want him to take me, to fill me. He leans down, his lips brushing my inner thigh.

His breath is hot and teasing. I squirm, my hands fisting the sheets, and he chuckles darkly before his tongue flicks out, tasting me.

I cry out, my hips bucking, but he holds me down, his hands firm, his mouth relentless.

He licks me, slow, deliberate, his tongue circling my clit, sucking, teasing, until I’m panting, my body trembling, pleasure building like a wave.

He inserts his tongue into my pussy and I nearly come off the bed.

It's a ruthless onslaught on my senses. He withdraws his tongue and pushes it back in with calculated force.

I cry out as I fist my hands in his hair.

He quickens the pace, tongue-fucking me in fast motions.

“God,” I gasp, my hands in his hair, pulling, urging him on.

Then, he stops. I whimper.

“Shhh,” he croons.

His eyes on me, he slides a finger inside me and I gasp out loud, my hips rising to meet the thrust of his finger.

He withdraws it, then inserts two fingers, curling them, hitting that spot that makes my eyes roll back in my head.

He doesn't stop. He continues to thrust his fingers in and out in my pussy as sloppy sounds of his fingers fucking me fill the room.

I grip the sheets tight as his fingers push in harder, deeper.

I’m close, so close. I can feel my body tightening. Then suddenly, he pulls back, his lips glistening and his eyes locked on mine. I cry out as he moves off me.

“Not yet,” he says in a rough voice. “Time to fill you up with my cock.”

I watch him go to the drawers and pull out a condom. He sheathes it and returns to the bed.

“Open up for me.”

I part my thighs wider, needing his cock inside me with an urgency that's cloying.

He cups his palm over his cock, then rubs up and down over it.

Then, he moves up, his body covering mine.

I grip his shoulders as he poises his cock over the entrance of my pussy.

It brushes my clit, teasing me. I wrap my legs around him, pulling him closer, desperate for his cock.

“Please,” I whisper, and it's all the encouragement he needs. I see him smirk before he stabs into me in one hard, deep thrust, his cock stretching me wide in one brutal stroke. I scream, my nails digging into his back, the burn of his size almost too much, but so fucking perfect.

My core clenches around him, greedy, wanting every inch. His cock is so thick and pulsing, filling me completely, and the raw heat of it sets my nerves on fire. His breath is ragged, his muscles taut under my hands as they rove over his broad back.

I feel him holding still, allowing for me to adjust to his huge size, but I don’t want slow. I want him to wreck me, to fuck me until I’m nothing but sensation. I want him to fuck me into oblivion.

I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, my hips rocking, urging him on.

He starts to move within me, slow at first, each thrust deliberate.

His cock drags against my walls, hitting every sensitive spot.

I moan loudly and shamelessly as my hands grips his shoulders, feeling the flex of muscle as he drives into me.

The sound of the bed creaking fills my ear. The room fills with the wet, filthy sound of our bodies colliding, skin slapping skin, my slickness coating him, easing his way.

His pace quickens and he begins to thrust harder and deeper, his hips slamming into mine with a force that jars my body, my breasts bouncing, nipples aching for his touch.

As if I'd communicated my thoughts to him, he grabs my breast, fondling and squeezing tight before pinching my nipple.

I gasp and arch into him as sensations overcome me.

He’s relentless as he continues to pound into me, the thick head of his cock hitting that spot deep inside that makes my vision blur.

I arch my back, pushing my hips up, meeting him thrust for thrust, desperate for more.

“Fuck,” I gasp, barely coherent, my nails raking down his back, leaving red trails I know he’ll feel later.

He grabs my thighs, spreading them wider, angling himself to go deeper, and I scream again, the new angle sending sparks through me. His cock feels impossibly big, stretching me, owning me, and I’m drowning in it, in the raw, dirty pleasure of being fucked by a stranger.

His hands are rough, bruising my hips as he holds me in place. His thrusts are brutal and unyielding. I’m dripping, my juices slicking my thighs, his balls slapping against me with every drive, the sound obscene, driving me higher.

I feel myself nearing. I reach down, my fingers finding my clit, rubbing fast, desperate.

He watches, his eyes dark and feral, his lips parted as he pants.

My body’s trembling, pleasure coiling tight in my belly, ready to snap.

He slaps my hand away, replacing it with his thumb, circling my clit in rough and precise motions.

I cry out, my hips bucking, the sensation too much, too good.

“God,” I moan, my voice breaking, my hands fisting the sheets, clawing at his arms, anything to anchor me. He leans down, his chest pressing against my breasts, the friction of his skin on my nipples sending jolts through me. Then, he lowers his lips.

I gasp and it reverberates through our sticky body as his hot lips close over my nipple.

I jerk off the bed as he suckles hard, his tongue flicking the tight peak with slow, deliberate swirls.

I move my hands from his back to grip his firm buttocks as he continues to slam into me.

He groans, the sound vibrating against my skin, and suckles harder, pulling my nipple into his mouth, teasing with soft nips that make me moan throatily.

He switches to my other nipple, his mouth greedy, sucking with a hunger that sends sparks straight to my core.

His teeth graze the sensitive peak in a soft bite, and I cry out, my hips bucking to meet his.

His thrusts are harder and even more brutal, the filthy sound mixing with my moans and the wet pull of his mouth.

My nipples are swollen and tingling, every flick of his tongue, every hard suck pushing me closer to the edge.

He trails his mouth up to my neck and nibbles at the skin there.

My pussy clenches around his cock. I’m close, so close.

I dig my fingers into his back. He sinks his teeth into my neck, marking me, and the pain mixes with pleasure, pushing me over.

I come hard, my orgasm ripping through me, the walls of my pussy clenching and convulsing around his cock, squeezing him tight. I scream, my body shaking as pleasure crashes over me like a wave, drowning me. I put my arms around him, holding me tight as the waves subside.

He keeps fucking me, his thrusts erratic, his breath heavy, and I know he’s close.

I want it. I need it. I put a trembling hand between us to grab his balls.

I squeeze it lightly and fondle it. I hear his grunt as my fingers cup around his cock, as they slide in and out of me. He grips my hips in a vise.

“Ah,” he moans.

Suddenly, I feel his control shatter. He thrusts wild into me, a low growl tearing from his throat as he comes, hot and deep. He keeps moving, slow, shallow thrusts, drawing it out, until he’s empty. His breath is ragged, his hands still gripping my hips hard.

He carefully rests his weight on me. He remains inside me. I feel the pulsing of his cock. I moan, my body trembling, spent. He pulls out and the loss of him leaves me aching. But I know that's it. There can be no more.

He moves from the bed to dispose of the condom and I stretch languidly like a cat.

I'm thoroughly sated. I've just been fucked in a wild and dirty way by a man whose name I don't know. And frankly, I don't care to. Tonight, I’m not Serafina Rossi, not a mafia princess. I’m just a woman who's had her sexual needs met.

Tomorrow, we'll both disappear out of each other's lives, and then, I can worry about the consequences. Somehow, I bet there’s one coming.