Going After Heaven (Mafia Romance)

Chapter Thirty Two

"This tool wants to work your pussy with his fingers" he smiles again, but a quick one this time. My body heats up. Like the heat well, ready to melt any fight I have in me against him. Against this.

Damn him.

"I didn't mean it like that" I try to catch my breath and sound reasonable even though every part of me is working for him and reacting to his dirty talk.

"I'm your tool, I say so myself" he flips me over so my back is to him and my breasts press against the door.

He doesn't waste any time as his hands move under my crop top to cup my breasts and knead firmly. Those large hands cupping my even larger boobs and kneading them are like fuel to the heat well in my stomach, melting my fight to liquid that is trickling out of my core. I moan loudly, letting my forehead rest on the door.

The contrast of how these hands can bring death and give life. How they can cause pain and give so much pleasure is driving me to an edge. Taking me to heights too high for hormones.

"Gabriele," it's a plea for everything I want him to do to me at this moment.

"Tell me you want this Heaven" his mouth comes to the nape of my neck and he nibbles.

I soundless moan breaks out of my clamped lips as he finds my nipples and takes them between his index fingers and thumbs. He starts to flicker.

"Yes," I groan. "Yes," he kneads and flickers. I push my butt into him, grinding his hard dick against my butt as I twist under his assault.

"What will I not give to make you mine," He pushes some more into me, and one of his hands moves to find my zipper. "Undo the zip," he moves the hand to my waist and pins me to grind some more into me. "Ah," he groans.

My hands move quickly to unzip my denim shorts. Not quick enough. If I can, I'll tear the shorts off.

He moves his hand to the rim of my shorts and plays around it teasingly. His hand slides in and I moan, resting my head on his chest and digging my fingers into his curls for balance.

"Always so wet for me," he says in a raspy baritone as he finds my wetness on my lace thong.

His finger glides back and forth and I close my legs, locking his fingers in between and wanting friction.

"Open up, and keep your legs open" he croons, and my body subjects.

His finger finds a snag around the lace and he pulls with a quick snap, rending it enough to have access to the plump slickness waiting for his touch.

"Yes, oh God, yes" I moan as he strokes teasingly. Each stroke is slimy. Each stroke is so smooth he can glide unhindered back and forth.

He pushes a finger inside and waits for me to adjust as I groan.

"You are so fucking tight, too tight," he pushes another finger in and a moan is turned into a gasp before it escapes my mouth. "So in tune with my touch"

He starts to stroke my core and fondle my nipple, keeping me pressed to him so each stroke grinds my butt against his hardness.

It feels good to feel him against my butt. To know that I affect him. That just looking at me invokes the same neediness in him as it does in me.

This burn. This lust. This overwhelming desire. That consumes everything in its wake. That licks up every doubt in its way. That can trick one into feeling something stronger than just mere infatuation. This is as strong as they come.

"God, you're perfect, you're fucking perfect" he keeps up with stroking and fondling and I bite down on my lower lip. "Your sound, your body, your taste, your smell, everything about you is perfect" he picks up his pace and my toes coil in my boots.

"Gabriele, ye—-s oh—-fu—ck,"

"You like it?"

"Ye—-ah"

He coils his fingers inside of me and starts to move in a quick jerky motion, hitting a sensitive delicious spot inside me.

"Ga—-briele, ahh—-hhh, yes yes yes"

"That's it, pupa, give it to me" whatever that means it intensifies the vibration from his fingers inside me as it grazes that delicious spot repeatedly till it sparks up, and I scream, my boobs and I bouncing under his touch.

Like a tool, he works my body to get what he wants.

"I'm coming Ga—bri—ele" I jerk the words, my throat stuffed, blocking out words and allowing only sounds of pleasure passage.

"Go for it" yes boss. Heat shoots across, making my body freeze for a short while, then taking up every sensuousness in one long pipe down to my core, pushing me off that edge.

I combust, consumed with ecstasy, screaming and saying words no one can find in any dictionary. My orgasm ripples through me as I jerk myself to wet mush.

My head falls forward and hitching breaths escape my mouth to keep me on this earthly plane. He rests on me, but not fully with his weight. More like a shield that he is. His hands stays put, claiming everything that shouldn't be his to claim.

He is not acting like he's stealing anything. He's acting like he owns it.

I wince as he pulls his fingers inside my core gently. He turns me over and I rest my back on the door, still catching my breath, with my head dipping limply. My eyes open and I catch his unsatisfied length, bulging.

When I lift my head to look at him, his eyes are a darker shade, but with a glint that keeps me dazed. He lifts his fingers that were inside me to his mouth and licks every trace of my restraint and denial that was transmitted to cum off his fingers.

Gabriele with my cum on his lips, those eyes hungry and wild, and his length ready and begging is as divine as they come. Like a spell. An elixir to stir me.

He could have taken me here and now. I wouldn't have blinked because I was lost in the moment. But that thing about him waiting for consent, about him giving more and never asking for anything in return is the one thing I have come to—- dare I say love—- about him.

But more than that, my mouth thirsts for something. My craving for him moves past his touch to his taste. I want to taste him like he's tasted me. I want to know how he feels under my touch and how he'll taste on my tongue.

I want him to brand my taste bud.

So I reach for his belt.  My eyes still cinched to his. I undo it and hear the sound of the metal drop. I unclasp his buttons and unzip him, pulling his jeans down a bit to show his length covered in his black brief. I reach for his boxers brief but his hands stop mine.

"You don't have to do anything, I am okay with what I get from you"

Well, I am not.

"I want to," and I know he wants it but he's looking out for me. Doing this has no fix. Doing this leaves no room for denial any more .

I push his hands away and dip my hand to pull out his shaft from his boxer brief. It feels so—thick. I take my eyes down to take him in. I have been dying to see this up close. The door hole didn't do justice to it. As expected it springs, ready, hungry, waiting. Precum glistening on the foreskin.

Don't even get me started on the length.

"What now?" he asks, strained from waiting.

"Looks like the first healthy meal I'll be having today" I lift my eyes back to his and smirk, squeezing a chuckle from him with that smile that's imprinted in my memory as a masterpiece. The best weapon against my steel heart. Then very quickly he goes shy, biting down on the side of his lower lip.

The Gabriele Romano is shy?

"buon appetito" he croaks.

I go down on both knees. To dine and worship.

Because how can I not?