Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Saverio kneels between my knees, gripping the rounded knob of the plug and twisting it from side to side. I cry out, bucking under the pleasure that shoots through my nerve endings. My clit throbs, and my pussy is soaking wet.
“Yes,” I say when Saverio finally takes the vibrator and switches it on. “God, yes.”
“You beg so beautifully,” he says, pressing the vibrator lightly on my clit.
Too little.
I will him to give me what I want, but he takes it away again, and I sag onto the mattress with a sob of frustration.
“Let me come,” I beg.
He glides a hand up my leg, teasing my skin into goosebumps. “Trust me, and you’ll get what you need.”
“Sav,” I cry out, pulling on the scarves, but it’s useless. “Untie me.”
“Not until I’ve taken care of your pleasure, my beauty.”
“Then do it,” I say, straining my neck to glare at him.
“I love your feistiness, but I’m not done playing.”
The ache in my clit increases, the pressure as the nub grows more engorged and heated almost unbearable. The short, light touches of the vibrator on that spot before Saverio removes it only drives my need higher.
Just when I think I can’t take it any longer, he puts the vibrator on maximum speed and pushes it down on my clit. At the same time, he presses on the knobby handle of the plug with a flat palm, making sure my body doesn’t push it out.
The orgasm hits me so hard my whole body lifts off the mattress. Instead of letting up, he makes me ride it out, keeping the plug and the vibrator in place. It goes on and on until my legs spasm and I’m shaking and then some. I’m unable to form a single word. My lips refuse to voice anything but the scream that tears from my chest as he gives me no reprieve. It feels like taking a thousand volts from an electric charge. Sweat covers every inch of my skin. My muscles quiver. My oversensitive flesh responds to the ongoing stimulation, need climbing inside me again. The burn from the gel fades to a lingering warmth, but another climax squeezes my body and locks my inner muscles around the toy inside me.
As he promised, I’ve never come harder.
My body collapses in my bonds, completely boneless.
Little aftershocks run through me when he switches off the toy and throws it aside. I’m only halfway aware when he pulls out the plug and allows his release to gush down the insides of my legs and the crease of my ass.
He’s on top of me before I can drag in another breath, kissing me like a feral animal while filling me carefully with his cock. He braces himself on his arms to keep his weight off me, driving into me with long, lazy strokes, but it’s as if my body has been maxed out on pleasure and the receptors have shut down.
“Yes, fuck, Anya,” he groans, thrusting deep before stilling.
His cock grows impossibly thick inside me before more warmth bathes my pussy.
He rests his forehead against mine, breathing as if he’s the one who’s been tortured with a delayed and overstimulating release. “Only you can do this to me.” He kisses my lips reverently. “Only you can make me come twice in a row.” Hooking a curl behind my ear, he says, “Don’t worry. I didn’t harm you or the baby. I checked with Nicole. She told me orgasms are good for the baby because they make you feel good. All the toys I used are safe.”
Unable to string together a sentence, I close my eyes and give myself over to the bliss in which I’m floating, a deep, merciful void where sins don’t exist.
And then he ruins it by saying, “The engagement party is next Friday, tesoro. If you don’t choose a ring and a dress before then, I’ll choose for you.”
CHAPTER
TWELVE
Saverio
When I have to be at the club, Anya works at Antonio’s old desk in my office. The arrangement more than suits me. Safety precautions aside, I like to have her close to me, preferably within my hand’s reach, and my hands always seem to reach for her as if they have a mind of their own. I can’t go a minute without touching her, even if it’s just to smooth my palm over her silky red hair or to brush my knuckles over the growing curve of her stomach.
I study her from where I’m working, my gaze constantly drawn to her. She’s lost in the numbers, her lip caught between her teeth and her eyebrows pulled together. She’s wearing one of the dresses I bought for her, a form-fitting blue one that shows off her small bump. I like showing off her pregnancy. It makes my chest expand with pride, the mere sight of her round belly filling the empty spaces inside me with warmth.