Forgivable Sins (Bellandi Crime Syndicate 2)

And then his hand cracked down against my ass in a harsh slap. "Shit!" I cried out, flinching away from the pain. His hand stroked the overheated flesh, rubbing it as if he could seal in the painful heat that spread from the hand print I knew he'd left behind.

He repeated it, striking the other cheek in an even harder spank that I felt in my core. Heat bloomed in me, spreading to my already wet center as I felt like I would go mad with lust. "Do you understand me?" he asked, and even as he pulled my hair a little tighter, an edge of uncertainty crept into his voice at the end.

"I don't know," I whispered. "I don't think you've been very clear, Lino."

He stilled, going totally silent as he listened to my words and I thought for a moment I might have pressed too hard. Might have pushed too much, too fast. And then his hand came down on my ass again, and again, and again in a frenzy of movement.

I wondered if I'd be able to sit the next day, but I also didn't care. Not when his hand finally let go of my hair so he could run both hands over the skin of my ass. I collapsed face first onto the bed, loving the way he felt as he stroked the skin to a fevered pitch. “Walking into a room to find another man’s hand on you, do you have the first idea what that does to me? What it reminds me of?” he growled.

“No,” I gasped, thrusting back as he slid a finger inside me.

“The day you made me walk you down the aisle to marry another man, vita mia. The day you tormented me worse than anyone else has ever come close to doing. You have been mine since before you knew what that meant, and you made me give you away.” The rough emotion that tormented his voice made me whimper, made me feel how cruel and unfair that must have been if he had truly wanted me the way I wanted him.

I’d loved Connor. Loved the promise of the life I thought he could give me, but even on my wedding day there’d been a moment when Lino first saw me in my dress that I’d wondered what it would have been like to have him waiting for me at the end of the aisle. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I did that to us,” I admitted, moaning through the confession from the sweet torment his finger inflicted on my pussy that desperately wanted more.

“Don’t be sorry, vita mia. You’re mine now and that’s all that matters. So long as you remember you’re mine and never let another man touch you again,” he warned, and I nodded, mumbling my assent that nobody would touch me.

“Nobody but you, my Stallion. Please," I begged, jutting my hips back at him. When he complied and slid his cock inside me, I moaned in relief.

"Fuck, Samara," he groaned, grasping my hips and pulling me back so that he could get deeper. "Nobody touches this. It's mine, and I will—” He rammed into me, hard, fast, with deep thrusts that took my breath away even as I screamed. “Never. Share. It."

"I'm so close," I moaned, wanting nothing more than the orgasm that loomed on the horizon.

So when Lino pulled out, I nearly cried in outrage. He tugged me down off the bed, shoving me to my knees in front of him. With everything we'd done, all the times he'd touched me, this was one thing he hadn't let me do yet.

I'd wondered why in those mo

ments, wondered why he always distracted me from it.

In that moment where he shoved me to my knees, I no longer questioned it. While I would one day love having him lay out beneath me, something about being on my knees in front of him just felt right.

"Open," he ordered. Biting my lip briefly in consideration of the fact that he'd just been inside me, I finally opened my mouth. He thrust inside quickly, hitting the back of my throat so harshly that I gagged around him as the taste of myself exploded inside my mouth. "This mouth is mine too. The words that come out of it, the smiles, the moans, everything about it is mine. He does not get to look at you while you speak. He doesn't get to picture these pretty lips wrapped around him," he groaned. He paused his speech, thrusting in and out of my mouth and trying to force himself into my throat a little harder with each thrust until my eyes watered. "You wanted this? So swallow me and fucking take it, Little Dove."

Turning a watery stare up to him, I did as he told me and swallowed so that he could slide down my throat even just a little. The shallow pulses he gave me were much gentler once I gave him that, easing his way through my flesh and staring down at me. The anger in his eyes faded just enough, and he stroked a hand over my cheek adoringly. "You look so perfect with my cock in your throat, Little Dove," he whispered. "As perfect as I always knew you would be, but I'm not going to let you swallow my cum today."

He pulled free with a pop, and I licked my lips and wiggled my jaw to get some of the feeling back. Lino was just too wide to ever really be comfortable. "Are you mine?" he asked more gently.

"Always," I admitted finally, giggling when he hauled me up by my armpits and bent me over the bed again. His hand came down on my ass again at the sound of my giggle, and then he drilled inside with a hard thrust that took my feet right off the floor. "Fuck!" I shrieked, feeling that painful pinch when he hammered against the end of me without mercy. But even with that strike of pain, pleasure grew and grew to a new place I'd never experienced before. When Lino bent over my back, his chest rubbing against my spine as he fucked me into the mattress, I thought I would die of pleasure.

"That mouth is mine," he said with a hard thrust.

"Yes!" I gasped.

"This pussy is mine," he added with another.

"Yes," I repeated with a whimper.

"This ass is mine," he said, straightening off me. One hand slid underneath me, wrapping around the place where he hammered in and out of me for a few moments and just feeling the connection. His other hand wrapped around over my hip, reaching to stroke my clit in slow circles that felt agonizingly torturous in comparison to the furious way he took my pussy.

"Please, Lino," I begged.

He slid the hand that had touched himself where he slid in and out of me away, pressing a wet finger to the other part of me, and I jolted at the sensation. He made no move to force it, just applying more and more pressure slowly as he fucked me into a coma on the bed. I didn't know when, but I'd started whimpering. Three points of sensation, three points of contact, and each and every one alone was enough to drive me up the wall, but he never gave enough to make me come. "Push out, Little Dove. You can come once you take my finger in your ass again."

"Lino!" I gasped.

"Now Samara," he ordered, and the command in his voice was something I didn't seem capable of resisting when it came to Lino. That power he commanded was only stronger in bed than it was in daily life, so I pushed out.

And in his finger popped.