Alessandro DeLuca

Kissing her neck, I say, “Take off your clothes.”

“What?”

“We’re about to eat lunch. Remember what I told you?”

“Were…were you serious?” she asks nervously.

“I don’t have time for games, Mila. Remove your clothes before we eat.”

“But what about your staff?”

“They know not to come anywhere near here. No one will see you but me. I would kill a man for even thinking about looking in your direction,” I growl because I mean every word.

“What about Knuckles…or…or…Bones? Where are they?”

“They. Won’t. See. You,” I repeat, running my knuckles down the side of her face.

“I don’t like being ordered around,” she hisses.

“And I don’t like being disobeyed,” I snarl.

Before I know it, I’ve slammed her against the railing, and her dress is hitched around her thighs. Jerking her panties aside, my fingers roughly enter her as my mouth presses against hers. Mila lifts one leg, wraps it around my waist, and her hands grab my face.

Our tongues clash, kisses turn to nips, which turn to bites and force out moans. A conflict of wills brought us to this moment, and it’s turning me on.

My fingers slide across her moisture, pinching her clit, thrusting inside her forcefully as she pushes her pelvis forward. The breeze off the lake frees the remnants of her ponytail and whips her hair around, slapping against our faces, but neither of us cares.

Releasing her mouth, I press mine against her nipple through the cotton fabric of her sundress. I rip it away using my teeth until I have her flesh in my mouth. Only then am I somewhat satisfied and happy to have yet another taste of her, no matter how mild.

When Mila whimpers my name and snatches my head away from her breast so we can kiss again, I know that she’s on the verge of an orgasm. My fingers speed up to an intense driving hurricane forcing her to the brink of delirium.

“Oh, god!” she screams, breaking the kiss as she pants and desperately tries to catch her breath.

I remove my fingers, dropping her leg from around my waist. Slipping my fingers inside my mouth, I suck the nectar of Mila’s pussy off each finger, one tip at a time.

Jerking my linen pants down, I remove a condom from my pants pocket to cover myself. I waste no time entering her roughly. My hand goes to her throat as I shove myself inside her again.

The sound of seagulls flying overhead creates a chorus with the cries Mila releases and my animalistic grunts. It’s not long before I cum violently, my hand squeezing tighter and tighter around her throat until she grabs my hand. I come back to my senses long enough to ease the pressure.

She smirks at me, letting me know that turns her on as she gyrates hard against me.

Our bodies are a chaotic blend of drama rushing to the finish line. We both arrive abruptly and violently.

Confusion and a storm brew in her beautiful eyes as she watches me pull out of her and fix my clothing.

She removes her dress, steps out of her panties, and reaches for my hand.

I kneel to lick the mess away from between her thighs. When I’m done, I reach for her hand again and lead her to the other side of the terrace, where lunch awaits.