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Michela’s eyes widen in surprise.
I don’t know why she’s surprised. The devil loves edge play, and I’ve not been coy with her. What she saw the day she met me is what she’ll now get. If I surrendered my control to her, she would look elsewhere for someone to fulfill her needs.
Before I unplug her nose, I slide in and out twice, and on the third time, I release myself down the back of her throat. My entire body shudders with the force of my orgasm, and I slap my palms against the shower wall and hold myself up as she gulps it all down into her belly.
“Holy Virgin,” I grumble, resting my forehead on my biceps.
With my cock still twitching in her mouth, I tug her hair.
She stands and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. I leave the shower to grab a washcloth, and when I return, I wet it so I can wash the mascara and eyeliner from under her eyes. Once I clean her face, I squeeze some shampoo into my palm and turn her around so I can wash her hair.
Washing her abundant hair takes a while. Once I condition it, I finger-comb it. Her hair stops just above her ass, and I can’t resist touching her there. I slide my fingers between her cheeks and rub her small hole before inserting the tip of my middle finger inside and stretching her.
She’s never been fucked here, I’m sure of it.
I grit my teeth as the thought of taking her right now against the shower wall assaults me.
As I touch her puckered hole, she moans my name, and I use the fingers of my other hand to work her clit from the front. Michela bucks, pushing against me. “Gently,” I remind her as I force my finger farther into her tight hole. I am evil. “I’m wounded, and you’re hurting me.”
Immediately, she stills, and that’s how I like her. Still and mine to do with whatever I want. Mine. Her body is mine, and my fingers work her into a frenzy, to the point where she’s chanting my name along with God’s and begging me to make her come.
I let her have her orgasm, but then force one more from her just to see if I can.
I could.
I finish and leave the shower while Michela sits in the corner, her long legs bent at the knees, water hitting her toes. They’re painted red.
39
THE HEADLINES
MICHELA
Having sex, even the oral kind, with Corrado was so intense that I napped for an hour afterward. I wished he’d joined me since he needs to rest, but I fell asleep to his deep voice in the kitchen speaking with Drago, the man I met earlier who owns this house.
Since only men come here, apparently, I wear boxers and a white undershirt before I show up in the kitchen, this time ready to actually start my day, coffee and all.
Which Corrado already brewed.
He’s standing in the kitchen checking out his wound dressing.
“Good morning again,” he says.
Barefoot and wearing a pair of black sweatpants, he’s holding a white T-shirt between his teeth while cleaning the oozing wound. It looks like some stitches opened.
It happens when one has oral sex right after they get shot.
I’ve never come from someone touching me there the way Corrado did, and to be fair, I had no idea that would even turn me on. But it did, not once, but twice.
“I said good morning,” he repeats, looking amused as I pour myself a big cup of coffee.
I sip. “Good morning.”
He pads toward me, takes the cup from my hand, and puts it on the counter before he steps between my legs. He cradles my face and kisses me on the lips.
“You brushed your teeth,” he says.
I nod. You bet I did.
