Page 142 of Brutal Revenge

I’m so worked up that my lusty head convinces my body it can take him without the lengthy foreplay Matteo insists we need. My body is primed and ready for him, and the ache is undeniable.

“Christ… fuck,la mia tigrotta,” he murmurs over my kiss-swollen lips when I grapple with his belt, desperate to remove his cock from his pants. “So damn impatient.”

“For you,” I murmur, finally feeling the weight of his thick cock in my hand. “Only you.”

Reminding him of when I spoke those exact words this morningturns him feral. He slips his hand between my legs and shreds my panties off my body, growling when their dampness coats his palm. “You feel like you’re already ready for me.”

“I am. So ready.”

He admires his handiwork on my flushed cheeks and neck before he encourages eye contact. “You sure? If you’d like me to eat your pussy until you scream so loud the orchard workers hear you, I’m all for it. They might not make it to tomorrow, but I have no qualms killing if it keeps my wife happy.”

His violence should scare me. Instead, it does the opposite. I dampen more thinking about how well he can protect me, and it’s not just me noticing this.

“Fuck. My wife is a dirty little nymph. You love the thought of being busted with my big dick deep inside you.”

I can’t deny his comment, so I remain quiet.

Not that I want or need more than he is giving me. Wondering how he’ll react excites me the most. Jealousy isn’t love, but they exist in the same space and are both highly charged emotional responses to a romantic bond.

Furthermore, who needs words when actions always speak louder?

I shudder when Matteo’s hot mouth marks my neck as he lines the wide head of his cock with the opening of my pussy. He’s so thick and veiny, and his abrupt entrance steals my breath. He sinks in so deeply his thrust only ends when he bottoms out at my uterus.

The pain doesn’t bother me. Not in the slightest. My moans bounce around the orchard as tingles spasm up my spine.

“Mm… still so tight.”

Using his grip on my waist, he smashes our hips together on repeat.

“And mine. So fucking mine.”

Matteo angles his hips just right so his V muscle stimulates my clit as the crown of his cock massages my G-spot.

As my moans ramp up, he spreads my thighs wide and then arches me back so the tree trunk supports some of my weight. It isn’t that he can’t fuck me standing upright. He’s done that on numerous occasionsthroughout the past week. It’s because he refuses to let me bury my face in the crook of his neck.

He wants to see every emotion that passes through me, and I give them to him.

The more heat creeps up my neck, the harder he fucks me. He drives into me on repeat, spiraling my mind as well as he dries my throat. In seconds, I’m floating. It isn’t the most comfortable location we’ve had sex in, but it doesn’t make it any less amazing.

His cock swells inside me more with every pump, revealing he is as close to release as I am.

He won’t stop, though.

I don’t know how he does it, but every time we have sex, he keeps going for hours after release. Though, I guess things may be different this time around. It isn’t called a quickie for no reason.

A rush of excitement hits me when my muscles contract. Matteo feels it too. He thrusts harder, his hips pistoning as he nails me to the lemon tree. I can’t stop screaming. I love being fucked by him, but there’s something different about being out in the open like this. Our antics this past week have been behind closed doors, hidden from everyone. But here, in the open, not a single soul could deny our sexual chemistry.

“Louder,la mia tigrotta. How are they meant to bust us if you aren’t screaming loud enough for them to hear?”

My body reacts on its own. Heat surges through me as my pussy clamps around his fat dick.

As stated earlier, I don’t want a third wheel for our duo.

I want to see if Matteo gets jealous.

Matteo pulls me away from the tree when embarrassing noises fill the gap between my moans. I’m so wet that he doesn’t face an ounce of resistance as he fucks me like a wild animal. His six-pack flexes and relaxes with every brutal pound, and ecstasy scours his face.

He’s as close to the edge as I am.