chiara
I stormed into Alessandro’s apartment. This would be the first place anyone would probably look for us, if they knew where he lived. He walked in after me and shut the door, his footsteps making my heart race.
“What is wrong with the damn princess now?” he asked, tension in his voice. “I saved your ass again, and you’re still angry with me.”
I turned on my heel. “Do I have to remind you?! You threw me out a second-story window! Threw my phone onto the highway! And refused to let me see if Alice is okay!”
“She’s fine,” he said.
His phone was sitting on the counter, buzzing over and over. He threw his jacket down and turned it over, rolling his eyes when he saw the sender. Instead of answering any of the messages, he threw it back down and turned to walk down the hall.
When I heard his bedroom door close, I snatched his phone and started going through the messages. Maybe I could call Alice. All were from Dad, who was asking if we were okay. I had the urge to answer it, but I refused. I didn’t need his drama in my life right now.
I loved him with my entire heart, but … I needed a break from him.
As soon as we saw him, he’d probably go off and ask why the Sicilian Mafia was trying to kill both of us now, say how someone in their family had put the hit on my head and not anyone from our family … because he trusted everyone under him.
Alessandro snatched the phone away from me and put it back on the counter. “You’re hell-bent on getting yourself in trouble, aren’t you?” he asked, moving closer to me.
I took a step back and bumped into the counter. He placed his hands on the counter, his arms trapping me.
The phone buzzed again, nearly falling off the counter. But he ignored it and stared down at me, his eyes a stormy gray, muscles swollen under the dim kitchen light.
My breath hitched. “Aren’t you going to get that?”
He inched closer to me, dipping his head so his nose brushed against mine. “No.”
“It’s my father,” I said.
This fucking man. I didn’t know if I wanted to rip his clothes or his head off for being such a dick all the damn time. But I needed some time to think about what had happened.
“I don’t give a fuck who it is,” he said, pressing himself to me. “I’m sick of these damn interruptions.”
He wrapped his hand around my throat and pulled me closer to him, forcing me to stare up into his eyes.
I could feel him through his pants, could feel my nipples pressing hard against my shirt, could feel his hands all over my body, like they had been a few hours ago.
“You’re mine now.”
And when he kissed me hard on the lips, I kissed him back, wrapping my arms around his neck. Desperate to kiss him. Desperate to touch him. Desperate for him.
In that moment, like some sort of magical fairy tale, everything just melted away. All my worries. All the drama. Everything. And it was just us.
He tangled his hands into my hair and pulled me back by it hard, peppering kisses down my neck. He slipped his hand into my pants and dragged his fingertips against my folds, then pushed them into me.
“You’re so fucking wet for me.” He sucked on my neck, lips trailing over my collarbone. “You want me to finally fuck you, Chiara?”
I let out a breathy moan and nodded. “Oh God, please.”
“Show me,” he demanded in my ear.
I swallowed hard, my pussy tightening. His palm brushed against my clit, and I closed my eyes, letting the heat build in my core. I moved my hips ever so slowly against his fingers.
“Fuck, you can go faster, baby.” He rubbed his thumb in circles on the sensitive bud. “Faster.”
I moved my hips back and forth, the pressure rising in my core. The mere friction against my cunt was driving me crazy. He pressed his lips on my soft spot, and a wave of pleasure rolled through me. Without another word, he slipped off my shirt and pants, as if he was desperate for me too.
I snatched the collar of his shirt and fumbled with the buttons, yanking it off, then my hands traveled over his bare abdomen and chest, feeling all the thick muscle underneath.
Before I could stop myself, I pulled his hand from my pussy, twirled around, and rubbed my ass against his hard cock.
“Please, I can’t wait any longer.” I never begged, but it seemed like I couldn’t stop right now. All I wanted was for him to be inside of me, thrusting himself deep, filling me completely.
He growled in my ear, one hand slipping around my waist and rubbing my clit again, the other pulling one of my legs up into the air. He undid his pants, pulled them down, and then positioned himself at my entrance, rubbing the head of his cock against my wet pussy.
“Fuck, I’ve been imagining what you’d feel like.” He pushed himself inside of me, filling me up inch by inch, fingers rubbing quickly against my folds, driving me higher and higher. When every inch of him was inside of me, he stilled and groaned, “Tighten your fucking pussy.”
My walls clenched around him, and I bucked my hips against him.
He trailed his hand up to my breast and squeezed harshly, rolling my nipple around his palm and sending another wave of heat to my core. “These fucking tits,” he groaned against me.
I bit my lip, trying to hold back a moan. When he took my nipple between his fingers and tugged harshly, I couldn’t stop the moan from escaping my throat. My pussy tightened around his dick, the pressure too high in my core.
“Stay on my fingers,” he said, holding my hips in place so I couldn’t move. “Come all over me.”
I let out a small moan, my body seizing as wave after wave of pleasure rolled out of me. When I came down from my orgasm, he turned me around, wrapped his arms under my legs, lifted me up into the air, and walked with me toward the floor-length windows in his living room. I could see all of the city from here, all of the cars below, all of the lights on in the other buildings downtown.
“My turn,” he said into my ear.
He started to pump into me, holding me into the air and using my body for his pleasure. My breasts bounced slightly. I loved the feel of his cock inside of me. I couldn’t wait for it any longer. I started begging. Begging for him to fill me up. Begging for him to come inside of me. Begging for him to fuck me all night long.
“Please, Alessandro,” I mumbled. “Fuck me harder. God, I need it.”
He tossed me onto the couch, crawled up after me, and slid himself between my legs again. He moved his hips quickly, so skillfully, hitting my G-spot every time, and kissed me.
My breasts bounced against his chest, my fingers digging into his shoulders. “More,” I whimpered into his chest. “Give me more.”
He groaned against my lips, his hand sliding to my throat, and stilled, giving me everything I’d ever wanted.