Bound by the Past (Born in Blood Mafia Chronicles 7)

I knew it would be easier not to come if I didn’t watch but the sight of this powerful man between my thighs was the most erotic thing in the world and I couldn’t deprive myself of it.

Dante released my folds. “Delicious,” he murmured, and he spread my lips. Even I could see how swollen and red my clit was, desperate for release, for attention.

“No sound, no coming,” Dante demanded.

I gave a sharp nod and with his eyes on me, he licked along my slit with the flat of his tongue then flicked the tip over my clit. And again. His warm, wet tongue. Firm, then soft. Over and over he repeated the same torturous motion, his eyes holding mine, watching my despair at wanting to come, at needing to come.

My fingers dug into my knees, my teeth into my lower lip. “Dante,” I got out.

“No,” he growled, and circled my opening with his tongue the way I loved it, and I began to shake, my orgasm wanting to burst forth.

Dante pulled back and sat up.

“Please!” I gasped.

He shook his head. “No, you were about to come. I didn’t allow you to.”

I glared but at the same time, I shuddered with a new wave of desire at his dominance. I began to lower my legs but Dante shook his head. “Stay like that, opened up for me and dripping.”

He stood and slowly got out of his clothes. It took considerable restraint not to rip them all away and pull him on top of me. He climbed on the bed and knelt beside my head, smiling darkly. Remembering the early days of our marriage when I’d worried that Dante would be a cold fish in bed almost made me laugh. He pushed a pillow below my head so I was on eye level with his erection. “You’re going to suck my cock now, and if you do good, I’ll lick you again and let you come.”

I nodded.

“Part your lips,” he ordered. I did without hesitation and he slid his cock in until he hit the back of my throat. Steadying my head, he began to thrust into me, fucking my mouth slowly. His control was slipping and as usual, it gave me a sense of triumph.I watched my cock slam into Val’s perfect mouth. She swirled her tongue and hollowed her cheeks, increasing my pleasure. I held her in place, as I fucked her mouth slowly, taking my time, wanting to draw this out. It wasn’t a punishment. Val loved sucking my cock and she did it just the way I wanted it. I’d taught her every move and she was a quick learner.

My eyes slid down to her pussy. The sight of her parted pink lips, her swollen clit, glistening and ready, made my cock jerk. Val licked my pre-cum eagerly. “Good,” I groaned as I slid slowly out of her. She knew her cue and began working only my tip, sucking it and licking it. This was the part she loved most and wetness pooled between her folds, waiting to be lapped up but that would have to wait.

Val held my gaze as she sucked my tip. She dipped her tongue in my slit then twirled it around.

“Enough,” I ordered. She closed her mouth around my cock again and I began thrusting once more, but faster and harder than before and then I exploded in her mouth. “Swallow every last drop.”

She did. Always, but again the command made her shudder with arousal.

Slowly, I pulled out. Val licked her lips. “And did I do good?” she asked in a challenging tone.

“Careful, or I might decide not to let you come at all,” I warned. She pressed her lips together, her eyes full of need and lust. The sight was enough to let my dick stay half erect.

I climbed down the bed and knelt before her waiting pussy. My eyes took her in, her need for me. “Do you want me to eat you until you come in my mouth?” I asked in a rough voice.

Val’s lips parted. “Yes, please.”

“Good,” I murmured. “But first we need to practice a bit more discipline. You won’t come for the next thirty seconds. You will count and when you reach thirty, I want you to give me your sweet release. Understood?”

That was something new. Something we hadn’t done yet. Her eyes flashed with desire. “Yes.”

I cupped her firm ass and bent over her. Her pussy clenched in anticipation and my own cock filled with more blood at the sight. “Start counting.”

“One,” she said. I hooked my thumbs in her petals and spread her for me. “Two.”

I took my first lick, over her opening, and “three” and “four” came out shaky and then I dove really in. This wouldn’t be easy for her. I suckled and nibbled at her sensitive folds, rubbed them with my thumbs, traced her throbbing opening. Val had trouble counting, every word a gasp, an exhale, a whimper as I lapped at her, enjoying her arousal more than anything else.