The Woman with the Ring (Costa Family)

My stupid, traitorous body sang at the contact.

A damn shudder moved through me at the feel of my soft curves crushing against his firm lines.

A low whimper escaped me, a sound that had Primo’s hand softening on the back of my neck, fingertips massaging the bruises he’d no doubt left with the rough contact.

His lips softened a bit as well, but only a bit, going from punishing to passionate as he bent my head backward, lips slanting over mine again and again until my whole body flooded with desire, hummed with the need for more of it.

Primo’s teeth nipped my lower lip, tugging, demanding entrance. With no choice, I granted him it, and his tongue slipped inside to claim mine.

Claimed.

That was exactly how I felt at that moment.

Like every bit of my desire, like every inch of my body, belonged to him.

My arm lifted, one hand drifting up his forearm, arm, and shoulder before sliding behind his neck, holding on as his lips slanted over mine and his hand left the back of my neck, slipping down my spine, then sinking into my ass, his grip firm and possessive, sending a jolt of desire between my thighs.

A moan moved through me as my back arched, pressing my breasts more firmly against him, a move that had a growl ripping through Primo’s chest as he turned us and walked me backward until my legs slammed into the bathroom counter.

His greedy hands roamed up my stomach, grabbing my breasts through my shirt. Feeling the peaks of my breasts pebbling at his touch, he rolled them between his thumb and forefingers until I was whimpering and arching into his hands.

On an impatient growl, his hands left me, going down to my pants and panties, and pulling them down my legs.

I won’t even pretend I hesitated in stepping out of them.

His lips broke from mine long enough for him to lean down, grabbing the backs of my knees, and lifting me off my feet, dropping my ass down on the cold bathroom counter.

I could barely even adjust to the new position before his hand was slipping between my thighs, sliding up my cleft, then working my clit with just the right amount of pressure.

Without even being aware of telling it to do so, my free hand moved down the center of his chest and abdomen, feeling the muscles twitch under the contact as I blazed a path downward.

My fingers impatiently worked his button and zipper free before slipping inside, running my palm over his hard cock straining against the material of his boxer briefs.

A rumbling noise moved through Primo’s chest at the contact, making his fingers abandon my clit and thrust inside me again.

My mouth broke from his on a low moan as I leaned back, placing my arms on the counter behind me, angling up to look at him.

His dark eyes were heated, molten, and heavy-lidded with his own desire.

Inside me, his fingers hooked and stroked against my top wall, engaging my G-spot with expert precision.

At the sound of my needy whimper, a ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He gave me a little encouraging nod when my hand started to move up toward the waistband of his boxer briefs. I hesitated for the barest of seconds, and got to watch as an impatient muscle ticked in his jaw. Encouraged by his slipping self-control, my hand slid inside to close around his velvety soft, straining cock.

A shudder moved through me as my hand didn’t quite close around him, realizing just how perfectly full he would fill me.

“Thinking about me in your tight pussy, lamb?” Primo asked, his voice a smooth sound that slithered across my nerve endings, making another involuntary tremble move through me. “Like this?” he asked, thrusting in and out of me. Slowly at first, then faster and faster as my walls tightened around his fingers. “Tell me,” he demanded as his fingers started to twist inside me as he continued to thrust.

My finger swiped over the head of his cock, feeling the wetness there.

“Yes,” I whimpered, taking a slow, deep breath as he drove me closer and closer to that edge.

“No, Isabella,” he rumbled, his hand turning so his palm pressed against my clit as he continued to fuck me with his fingers. “Tell me,” he demanded. When I looked up at him with uncertain eyes, his head tipped to the side, watching me as another finger slipped inside me, filling me a little more. “Tell me you want me to fuck your tight pussy,” he demanded as he moved his fingers in circles inside me.

“I… I want you to fuck me,” I told him. There was no denying it. There was time to think about what that meant, what the repercussions of this would be, some other time. Right then, I needed him inside me with the same sort of urgency that I needed my next breath.