Thrust Into His Arms

CALIX

I let out a breathy gasp as my hard length presses directly on her pussy.

I’m so hard that it hurts.

That as well as my hand on one of the soft mounds on her chest where I can feel her nipples standing sharply against the thin fabric of her shirt has my brain short-circuiting.

She squeaks as I hump my arousal against her. My briefs and pants getting in the way but I can still feel the pleasure nonetheless.

I imagine that she must be very sensitive there right now. And I want her to be even more. I went down on her again.

Once would not be enough considering the embarrassing number of times that I have imagined doing this to her.

Fucking someone else but tricking my mind into believing that it’s her. My fantasies about her? Not a single one is pure. They are all fucked up.

To want to tie her down and fuck her until she bleeds and cry out my name.

Kidnap her ass if need be to a deserted island where it’ll be just the two of us and I can acquaint and feed her my cock over and over again.

This is an illness.

A fucking untreatable one at that.

How is she not aware of how crazy she makes me?

I bring my mouth to her most sensitive area again and slide my tongue across her slowly, savoring her taste as it consumes my senses. "Oh God," she pants as her hands return to pull harder on my hair.

Her hips buck up off of the bed as she presses herself against my tongue. She is no longer trying to fight it. She has long sweetly surrendered. Not like she has any other choice to do so. I pull back and she whines, lifting her hips to chase my mouth. I love that she’s as desperate for me as I am for her.

I love how fucking responsive her body is. "More. . . please." Fuck, I love to hear her beg. But I want to go slow this time. I want to savor every second of this. I want her to feel how deeply sorry I am. I know I have hurt her badly. But I’m an asshole who is refusing to get the words "I’m sorry" out of my lips.

She wanted me to fucking apologize. But I won’t. It’s not like she would accept it even if I grovel anyway. And what satisfaction would it bring? Apologies are useless. Especially in the Mafia. We believe and hold on to the principle of paying the price for ones own deeds.

Action speaks louder than words. And we are both enjoying it this way, aren’t we?

I lap at her juices hungrily again. She is so fucking tasty. I push my tongue inside of her, she moans loudly and writhes against me. Her fingers tighten around my hair as she continues to offer herself more to me.

"Calix. . ."

The breathy manner in which she moans my name made me pause for a second. The sound going straight to my cock, making me feel like releasing. I stare at her glistening cunt,

easing my middle finger in. Her tight walls clutching as I sink it in deeper. Her mewing sounds are like music to my ears. I want nothing more than to fuck her right now. I hum against her as I suck on her clit, and her hips move slightly again, rocking her pussy against my tongue and finger.

I add a second finger, curling them inside her while I flick my tongue.

I fuck her with my fingers, sucking and biting. She cries out as she releases into my mouth. I could feel liquid seeping out of my cock.

Fuck, I had almost cum.

I pull my fingers out of her and get to my knees undoing my pants and free my cock, fisting the base and giving it a stroke,

watching the flooding wetness on her pussy slowly dripping down to her thighs. Her hole calling to my cock and begging for me to enter.

My balls are heavy, needing a release, I stroke myself again. I look at her face and see tears leaking out of her eyes. It could either be from the intensity of her orgasm or hate and dismay.

I’m going to pretend not to care— whatever is. Her gaze briefly meets mine, before it goes down to my exposed, erect member and her eyes widens in alarm. Sense and consciousness seeming to rush back into her.

I immediately hold her waist and pin her down so she wouldn’t struggle at this important time when I want to get my own pleasure.

I line up the head of my cock at her entrance, gasping at the mere contact. "Stop. Please don’t do it." She begged, crying. "You’re going to rip me apart.

That thing will not fit inside me." I pay no attention to her words. I’m aching to show her that it’ll fit.

That I will make it fit even though it hurts and show her how much that we can fit. But that’ll be some other time. You’re going to be mine, Gweneth.

You can only be. I chanted in my thoughts. I will make sure anyone that tries to get in my way would drop dead. I’m beyond fucking obsessed at this point.

I’m addicted. Lost in it.

I grasp the thick root of my cock and play the head over her wet inner lips until I’m coated in her slipperiness, against the slick heat of her. I feel the first rush of warmth hit my skin, my eyes close, stars playing behind them. I’m deeply enraptured by the sight of my broad head playing over her very middle as I move slowly back and forth.

Every stroke has the head sliding and bumping against her clit.

I’m breathing shakily and heavy from the sweet sensitivity of it.

I let out a strangled groan as I feel her growing hotter and wetter, and shaking beneath me. The point of contact sparks—oversensitive.

It is taking my all not to ram myself into her. It doesn’t take long for me to tip over the edge. I explode, my muscle tensing and going stiff as I release.

Groaning out swears as my semen juts out and sits directly on her clit. I stare at her messy pussy with satisfaction.

I also feel something other than that. It’s possession.

Mine.