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"Forgive me," his teeth grazed along my jaw, hot puffs of air leaving his lips with each hard thrust and fanning over my sensitive skin.

I breathed out shakily, my hands running through his hair and legs tightening their hold on his hips. He amount of times he had apologised since we arrived in my bedroom made the actual apology completely lose its meaning.

With one arm by my head to hold his body above mine, our chests lightly brushing against each other with each movement, he trailed his free hand up from the side of my waist to the side of my breast.

"Tell me you forgive me," his low voice made me shiver in pleasure and my eyes fell shut and lips parted, his lips brushing against the side of my ear.

His rough hand slowly continued feeling me up, until it situated on my neck. My eyes flew open in slight panic when I registered exactly what he was doing.

"Ben—"

"Say it," his gravelly voice rumbled up from his chest, his face lifting from the crook of my neck for our eyes to meet.

He gave me a particularly hard and rough thrust just as he began applying careful and pulsing pressure to the sides of my neck just below my jaw. He wasn't pressing down against my windpipe, which led me to the conclusion that he knew how to choke his sexual partner.

"No," I stood my ground while desperately trying to stay afloat amidst the rough pleasure he gave me, being sent to cloud nine every single time he angled his thrusts just right. This was just the right amount of pain mixed into the pleasure, and I loved it.

I felt my airflow being constricted, before the pulsing pressure he was putting on my neck lessened and I could breath again. This pushed me closer and closer to my release, which hadn't been far away to begin with.

With his jaw clenched and eyes frustrated that I wasn't giving in, Ben closed the small distance between our lips in a punishing kiss, muffling out a moan that slipped past my lips.

"I'm sorry, Sofia," his thrusts suddenly slowed down a great deal, and I felt like crying at how close I had been, "I'm really fucking sorry."

It was as if a switch clicked inside him and he turned now to be much more gentle.

"Harder," I managed, trying to get him to comply with my legs wrapped around his hips.

Ben didn't reply and instead began leaving slow and hot open-mouthed kisses down the front of my neck after having removed his hand.

"I'm sorry," he kept repeating lowly and quietly, "say you forgive me."

I let my eyes close and forced myself to adapt to his sudden change of pace. I leaned my head back and revelled in feeling him move inside me and his hot lips kissing my skin, now taking his time.

I now felt like crying at how intimate this felt, and how hurt I was by him. It was a mistake having brought him to my house, I should have just gone over to his, because that way I could have sneaked off when he was asleep.

"There's no more secrets," he told me, words paced with his actions, "I'll let you leave the mafia. We can be together now."

How sincere he sounded only made me more emotional, so I ignored him completely.

Despite his slowed down pace, I reached my orgasm sooner than I had expected. With my fingers tangled in his hair I tugged his face up to mine from my chest so that I could kiss him, muffling out my moans. My legs tightened around him impossibly, burying his length inside me. He stayed still and kissed me back, moving only once my legs enabled him to do so.

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