“No.” I smile.
“Now,” he demands, for some reason my body instantly obeys him. He has this sexual dominance that oozes out of him, my need to please him is something I’ve never experienced before. I walk over to him and he puts my wrists together and wraps his tie around them, I watch on as he does it up with a tight knot.
Effectively bringing me at his mercy and completely under his control.
He slowly pulls the ribbon sash on my robe and it falls undone, my naked body is instantly on display and he gives me a satisfied smile as his eyes roam over my naked flesh. Raising his hand, he cups my breast and dusts his thumb back and forth over my nipple, it hardens for him and he lets out a low hum. “I love how your body is so responsive to mine,” he murmurs, distracted. He bends and takes it into his mouth and goose bumps instantly scatter over my skin.
Every time he touches me…it’s like the first time.
How did I live without this?
He bares his teeth as his dark eyes hold mine and he bites my nipple, hard enough to hurt but just before pain. “Oww,” I whimper.
“E doloroso, piccola?” (Translation: “Does that hurt, baby?) he whispers.
A thrill runs through me, he’s never spoken to me in Italian before, this is new.
I nod.
He bites me harder. “Bene.” (Translation: Good.)
“Oww.” I go to step back and he holds the tie that is wrapped around my wrists. “Non andrai da nessuna parte.” (Translation: You’re not going anywhere.) I glance down to see the large erection in his suit pants.
I stare at him as my arousal hits fever pitch.
Gone is my childhood sweetheart. The king of Italy is here.
He’s here as the man he is now, an animal, so virile, primal.
Holding me by my tied hands, he leads me over to my couch and stands me at the end of it. “Solleva le Braccia.” (Translation: Arms up.)
“Huh?”
He pulls my arms up by the tie and bends me over the end of the couch, my arms are tied above my head as I lean onto my elbows. Then he lifts my robe so that my bare behind is sticking up into the air. “Cosi va meglio,” (Translation: Better.) he murmurs darkly as he rubs my skin in a slow circular motion. He then lifts my right leg and leans it up against the back of the couch, effectively spreading me right out.
I smirk into the couch. Fucking deviant.
“Ecco un panorama mozzafiato,” (Translation: This is a much better view.) he replies.
I giggle and then he spreads my behind cheeks apart with his two hands and I fall instantly silent.
What’s he doing?
He traces his fingertip over my back entrance.
“Jules.”
“Sshh, don’t make me gag you, baby girl. You may not like the taste of my socks.”
English, he’s back with me.
I smile, relieved, into the couch and then I feel his tongue there.
Oh….
I hold my breath as he licks me again, I’ve never….
Oh fuck….
He licks me again and I can feel his stubble, goose bumps scatter all over.
“You know I’m going to fuck you here, don’t you?” he growls as he really begins to lick me harder, his hands pulling my cheeks apart, opening me completely up for him.
My sex throbs for attention as she searches for more.
In the position he’s got me in, legs spread wide with my hands tied above my head, I couldn’t move, even if I wanted to.
He unzips his suit pants and my heart is hammering hard in my chest.
This is what he does to me, sets me on fire.
Every.
Single.
Time.
He pulls his pants down a little, revealing his rock-hard erection, he’s swollen and engorged with a thick vein running down his length. Pre-ejaculate drips, as his body searches for more too.
His hands become almost violent as he spreads me apart, his tongue in places where it shouldn’t be.
I shudder and he slaps me hard on the behind. “Non osarevenire, cazzo.” (Translation: Don’t you dare fucking come.) he growls.
What?
Like I can help it?
He rubs saliva into the lips of my sex and then, holding himself at his base, positions himself at my entrance and in one hard pump he’s into the hilt.
My mouth falls open as my body quivers around him, there is no air left in my lungs at all.
Fuck…he’s big.
No matter how many times we do it, I still have to get used to him.
He rolls his hips one way and then the other to try to loosen me up for him.
“Accoglimi dentro di te, piccola,” (Translation: Let me in, baby.) he murmurs.
”Fammi sentire quanto sei eccitata.” (Translation: Give me some of that cream.)
Filthy bastard.
I smile into the couch at the delicious feeling…God, that feels good.
He inhales with a deep moan and grabs my hipbones in his hands and then pulls out and slams in hard.
Oh…. Fuck.
He pulls out and does it again and again and then we are hard at it.
This is when Giuliano Ferrara is at his best.
When he’s fucking for the sheer joy of it, overtaking a woman’s body for his pleasure.
With no fucks to give about anything.
His hand comes to between my shoulder blades and he pushes my chest down to the couch, changing my position. “Careful,” I whimper, I’m completely at his mercy like this.
He slows, as if realizing it himself, before letting out a deep guttural moan. “Sei cos incredibile, cazzo.” (Translation: You feel so fucking good.) He pumps me. “You feel that, take every fucking inch.” He pumps me harder and then slides his thumb deep into my ass.
My eyes begin to roll back in my head…oh fuck.
So much for my slow romantic date.
The position I’m in, his thumb where it is and the way he is fucking me at piston pace, I don’t have a chance in hell at holding this.
I cry out as I see stars, my body clenching hard around his as it comes in a rush.
“Fuck,” he cries, he holds himself deep and I feel the telling jerk of his cock as he comes deep inside me. He pumps me harder, long deep strokes as he empties his body completely inside of mine.
He falls over the top of my back and we both pant as we struggle for air, my face buried into the couch, his face against my back.
After a while he pulls out and kisses my butt cheek. “Brava ragazza.” (Translation: Good girl.) He kisses my other cheek and I smile against the cushion.
“I wanted tonight to be romantic.”
He chuckles as he pulls me to my feet. “That was me being romantic.” He pulls my face to his and holds it in his two hands and kisses me, it’s deep and tender, erotically slow.
Perfection.
The hotplate hisses and we both turn toward it as the vegetables boil over.
“Oh shit. I just burned dinner.”
He chuckles as he kisses me again. “Not the first thing you burned tonight.”
It’s late, after a long hot bath, Giuliano and I are sitting on the couch watching television.
“I found something today,” he says softly.
“What?” I smile.
“Well….” He sips his wine and hesitates as if choosing his words carefully. “One of my men was at their child’s art show last night at the library.”
“Okay,” I reply, where is this going?