Page 68 of Damiano De Luca (The Five Syndicates)
I scurried to the bed and laid down. He grabbed my legs and slid me lower until my face was near the middle of the bed. My heart charged as he climbed up my body, his hard length in my face and his fists holding his body up above me.
“Open your mouth.”
Holy crap.
I did as he asked, my tongue dying for another taste of him. He thrust into my face, his movements unapologetic and merciless. I moaned against his cock, causing him to groan as the vibrations traveled along his erection.
He fucked my face, not letting up for a second. I gasped for air, and when that didn’t work, remembered to breathe through my nose. A rush of his body soap and musk entered my nose until I was drunk on every part of him—his taste, his touch, his scent, and the chiseled eight-pack that flexed each time he pushed deeper into my mouth.
I reached a hand out and ran it across his abdominal muscles, my movements jerky. His thighs rubbed against my pebbled nipples with each thrust, and I groaned around his cock. His cum surprised me, pulsing into my mouth as he pulled out of me.
I watched as he stroked himself with his right hand and shot jets of cum all over my face and breasts.
He leaned back and looked at the mess he’d made on me. “Push your tits together.”
I swallowed the cum he’d left in my mouth and squeezed my breasts together. He swiped the cum off my face with his fingers, rubbed them in circles around my nipples, and dipped them between the valley of my breasts with the rest of his cum until my entire chest was coated.
Then, he stroked himself again, his cock still mostly hard, and slid his length between my breasts. After a few more pumps, he leaned back and looked down at me. “Now, I’ve fucked every part of you but one.” His lips turned up in a smile, and while his eyes still looked haunted, he also looked satiated. “I’ll get to that later.”
Oh, dear Lord.
He let me take control later that night, riding him the way I wanted to ride him. Teasing him the way I wanted to tease him. And letting him come when I wanted him to come. We were sticky and sweaty and a little messed up, but we were happy.
Between rounds, I traced the scars his dad had left on his back. Stubborn, raised edges, which had healed as much as they could. I had listened from my room that night as Angelo De Luca whipped Damian, the lashes unrelenting. But I wasn’t that scared teen anymore. I wouldn’t be run out of a city again.
And when I fell asleep with Damian’s arms wrapped around me, I knew we’d be okay. We weren’t our parents. We were better. Because Damiano De Luca loved me in ways no one I’d ever met and would ever meet knew how to love—patiently, through time, with no limits, with no expectations.
And I loved him.
The unapproachable parts he showed the world.
The uninhibited parts he showed me.
And especially the bruised, savage parts he could never hide from me.
Sometimes, it’s not the people who change. It’s the mask that falls off.
Unknown
I woke up with Renata on my chest. The room still smelled of sex, and I bet if she were awake, the cum I’d left all over her chest would cause her all sorts of discomfort.
Shit.
Yesterday.
That dull ache I’d lived with most of my life intensified. I’d always suspected my dad had done something to my mom, but I’d never known for sure. As much as it fucked me up to find out the truth, it also relieved me. It was one less lie in my life, and I felt more free than I had in a long time.
And Renata… Once again, she’d seen me in pain, and she tried to fix me. Only this time, it had been the straw that broke the camel’s back, pushing us together in filthy, naughty, desperate ways. I couldn’t say I was u
nhappy about that, and I sure as hell appreciated her.
I slid Ren’s arm and head off of me as gently as I could. The bed creaked as my weight lifted off of it, and I walked to the little bathroom connected to her room. I was already naked as the day I’d been born, so I strode into the shower and let the water hit me. Ice cold shards hit me before the temperature shifted to extreme heat.
The door opened, and Ren entered.
“Morning, Princess.” I studied her beneath the showerhead, watching for signs that I’d pushed her too far. The water droplets fogged the clear glass door, but I could still make out her face.
She wore my shirt, her bare body still on display, thanks to the way I’d ripped the buttons when taking it off last night. A lazy smile drifted onto her face as she watched me watch her. It was sleepy and lacking her usual walls, and I knew we would be okay. At least, I hoped we would be. I’d bared every fucked up feeling I had since childhood to her last night. I wouldn’t blame her if she wanted to run the other way.
