The First Sin (Sins of the Past 1)

“Do what you gotta do.” She smacked a kiss on my lips. “But I have to go. Be outside my window at three o’clock. Don’t be late.”

“No panties or bra. Just a dress. Wear that tight black one I bought you for Christmas.”

She smiled. “As you wish.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Gia

Angelo fucked my mouth, choking me with his cock and straddling my head with his thighs. My hands were bound above my head, handcuffed to his headboard. After all these years, he knew me. He knew how much of his cock I could swallow, just how much I liked it when he came down my throat.

My eyes watered, tears streaming down my face. He loved to watch me deep throat every inch of him, until I was gasping and begging for more. Sex was an experience with Angelo. No one time with him was ever the same as the last.

After the last jerk of his body, I licked every drop from his still erect cock. My lips were swollen and cracked and hurt when he dragged his thumb along my bottom lip.

“My dirty girl.” He smirked when he said it. Slowly, Angelo released my head from his strong grip and scooted down enough so his muscular body was covering mine. His thick cock dug into my thigh when he kissed me, tugging on my lip with his teeth.

“My bad boy,” I hissed, still out of breath. “Did you kill anyone today?”

A fire blazed behind his beautiful blue eyes. He kissed my left breast, then my right. “Would it turn you on more if I did?” His husky voice sent shivers down my spine. Every inch of my body was on fire from each kiss he left on my skin.

Angelo gazed up at me as he made room for himself between my legs, throwing both of them over his shoulders. He stuck out his tongue and made contact with my clit, his eyes finding mine in the process.

“Yes,” he admitted, and then continued to suck on my clit, two fingers sliding inside me.

“Tell me,” I moaned, my eyes closing for a second from the overwhelming sensation that rocked my core. “I want to know.”

“Two of Enzo’s men.”

“Mmm…” I tried to speak again, but his hot breath on my skin felt so good I couldn’t formulate a single thought.

The handcuffs dug into my wrists the more I writhed beneath him. With my legs over his shoulders, I had his head in a vise. I rocked my hips, greedy and hungry for more of his tongue. He hooked his free arm over my thighs to keep me from squirming. I fought him as much as I could. My man loved the fight. I loved the challenge.

It took me weeks to feel again after my meltdown. Angelo had brought me back to life. He would always save me. My white knight didn’t wear armor. He wore a thousand-dollar suit with a nine-millimeter strapped to his chest.

“Tell me more,” I screamed, hitting the peak of my climax. “How did you kill them?”

My body trembled, a brush of heat rushed over me in waves, and then he ripped another orgasm from my lifeless body. I was dead, on a high unlike anything I’d ever experienced.

He licked my juices from his mouth, my legs still draped over his shoulders, and growled, “I strangled one, Sonny took the other.” His voice was so deep and raspy.

He didn’t give me a second to come down from my high before he slammed his cock into me. Hard, rough, violent, he took from me without warning.

“Show me,” I moaned. “Show me how you did it.”

“Fuck, G.” He shook his head, his eyes flickering with excitement. “You want me to choke you?”

“When I come, squeeze my throat. Show me how you did it.” Sometimes, I was an animal. That night was one of those times.

Angelo leaned forward, holding my legs against his chest, his cock sliding so far into me I could feel him everywhere. He invaded my body like he was conquering me, claiming his property. I screamed. He growled. It was pure fucking perfection. He owned me. Ruled me. Destroyed me, so I could never be with another man.

I peeled his hands from my legs and slid them up to my throat. “Show me.”

He wanted to do it. I could see the arousal in his eyes. But he held back, mostly because Angelo was afraid if he showed me for real, that he would hurt me beyond repair.

His big hands wrapped around my throat, his thumb sliding over my windpipe. I gasped for air, but not so much as I couldn’t breathe. Angelo had killed men with his bare hands. He knew how much pressure and where to apply it. My eyes closed from the pain mixing with the pleasure, a series of moans escaping my lips.

After I came, he stilled on top of me, slowly removing his hands from my throat. He propped himself up on his elbows and stared into my eyes. “If anyone on this earth was ever made for me, it’s you, Gianna. My God, baby, it’s you.”