“I would never,” I whisper.
“You need a safe word.”
“I don’t think so,” I tease.
“You wanted rough sex in a sex club,” he says, releasing his grasp around my wrist.
“Think fifty shades of grey and minus ten shades,” I reply, my arms folding across my chest defensively.
“A safe word,” he repeats, his pointed gaze forming into an intimidating dominated façade.
“Rossa,” I whisper.
“If it’s too much for you,” he says, his voice trailing off.
“Enough. I want to wear a necklace,” I say, grabbing his hand and wrapping it around my throat.
He pulls me into a fierce kiss from his hungry lips. His grip tightened into the curls of my hair. Our tongues spiraling together. With one swift move he kicks my legs out from under me. I land on my knees in a thud against the plush white fur carpet below me. He walks over to the bedside table and picks up the shaft of a black leather flogger in his hands. He warms the handle between his hands with his firm grasp. His hand pushes the flogger down as the tip of the tails crack against the black tiled floor. The breath catches in my throat. This man wore dark black jeans and nothing else. His barreled naked chest moving up and down with each labored breath. He drags the tails across my breasts and up my neck.
“Princessa,” he whispers.
“Do your worst, Enzo,” I whisper back.
The tails come down heavy and dull across my skin. I wince as I hear the sound of it hitting before the sensation. Again. An intense stinging like being snapped with a rubber band. It’s gone. Then another. My breasts sensitive for the next hit. Each strike from the tails builds a dull ache inside me. Everything throbs. His fingers rake through my hair at the back of my neck.
“I need you to be inside me,” I beg.
A throaty breath, “Impatient.”
“Only with you.”
“Go to the swing,” he orders.
I backed carefully into the fabric sling before he stops me. His hand gripping my lace underwear in his hold. His finger loops the inside of the lace and quickly breaks it in half and throws it over his shoulder.
“You owe me new underwear if you keep doing that,” I say.
His beaming dimpled smile instantly made me wet. My breasts red and stinging from the leathered tails. I sit in the sling and scoot as far back as I can. Holding myself with the silk fabric straps in my hand, I leaned back and lifted my legs up into the fabric making stirrups. The silk fabric fitting tightly against my hips and wrapping my back comfortably in the sling. I looked up at the hooks in the ceiling. Silently pleading for them to hold me and not release me as I fall to the ground.
“Spread your legs,” he orders, pulling his jeans off and throwing them across the room, landing in a thud.
I nodded in oblivious obedience, clouded by the absolute eroticism of being suspended in the air in full view of this man in front of me. I just want to lay back and let him have his way with me. I am putty in his very capable Italian hands. He let go of me as I swung back and forth slowly, my legs spread apart in full view of him. He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a small silver bullet vibrator.
“You have been carrying a vibrator in your pocket this whole time?” I ask incredulously.
“Never know when it will come in handy,” Lorenzo teases.
He gave a long lick against the cold metal to lubricate it. The loud and steady vibrating pulse fills the room.
Fuck, I am in for it.
The small silver metal bullet teased against my clit. It’s vibration tickling the inner most parts of me. My hips rolled against the strong vibration. His teeth catch his bottom lip as he watches me intently, pushing the bullet inside of me. I gasp in surprise with his rotating hand.
“Oh my God,” I sigh, moans of pleasure and my breaths becoming hitched in my throat.
His strokes became rapid and vertical, instead of small and circular like he started with. I feel the tingling of the vibration inside of me as I am so close to coming around his hand. My legs shook with mind-numbing pleasure. It’s gone.
FUCK.
FUCK.
FUCK.
He takes his hand away and throws the bullet across the room.
“Rossa,” I breathe.
“Princessa,” he says, breathing deeply, his grip loosening around me.
“I need you,” I say.
“I’m sorry,” he breathes.
“Fuck me and don’t you dare pull out again,” I say, my voice hitched with warning.
He got a steady grip on the silk fabric, and in one swift motion buried his cock deep inside of me.
No warning.
No deep breath.
He drove into me, using the swing’s momentum to pull me towards and away from him. He was able to go deeper than he has been before. He hits spots that I can’t imagine were humanely possible without a jack rabbit. Our hips collided together with every movement. The motion of the swing was unlike anything I have ever felt. The element an added exhilaration to this already magnetic culmination of hormones.
“Harder, please,” I beg.
“Fuck, you are my queen,” Lorenzo says, his breathless gasps between each thrust.
His cock penetrated me at an upward angle. It was unlike anything I have felt before. We were fucking at a frenzied pace. I have never been fucked this rough before. Fucked this deep before. Warm juice trickles down my thigh. My resounding cries of unsurmountable pleasure were replaced with muffled moans by his strong hand across my mouth to quiet me.
“Fuck me,” I cry out, muffled.
He pulled me to him, wrapping his large hand around the back of my neck. Our breathing ragged and short. He held himself perfectly against me. The vein in his forearm popping. His cock pulsing inside of me. We come together, the swing gently swaying him inside of me.
“Finn doesn’t fuck you like I can,” he whispers.