Gaia Azzaro
I was the mafia princess of the Camorra but only in the eyes of the world. There was never anything special about me, except for my top of the world flaws. I was invisible my whole life until the Brigadier (Capo) of the Russian Bratva se...
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"I realized something today." I murmur in Kazimir's ear.
"What?" He whispered back, mimicking my tone.
"I love cuddles. Never thought I would like to get crushed under a giant Russian's weight.." I snicker playfully. He quickly turned to lift his weight off of me, making me frown.
I loved his warmth, his hot breath tickling over my ear, but it had already been maybe over an hour now. I had expected to find myself on the couch I had dozed off in, but alas I was back in the cage. A small part of me was disappointed. I had torn apart just one bedroom. Perhaps I'm the only one who wants to take a chance at the trust department.
I disappear into the bathroom as his hand clutching my waist loosens. The same boring circle was back on track. Brushing my teeth, changing into another new pair of gym clothes, and an exotic fruit bowl that tasted just normal on my tongue now. The cycling bike felt like a bed of thorns now. I was tired, so I decided to head back to the room without speaking with Kazimir. I was close to the door when his hand clamped over my wrist.
He backed me on the mirrored wall, his forearms came on either side of my face. A sheen coat of sweat was glossing over his rugged face. My eyes zero on his lips.
He grasped my chin with his thumb and forefinger. I peer at his hooded eyes through my lashes. A startled gasp slips from my mouth as he pushes his hard-on over my belly. My breath came in shallow pants as he rubbed himself against my torso. I close my eyes and moan, but that's not where I want to feel him. Circling my arms around his neck, I gave him a look and he stepped back so I could wrap my legs around his waist. The fact he can hold me, and take my weight, always ups my self-confidence. It makes me feel sexy that I'm not the one with some extra pounds; the others didn't have it in them to take me there arms.
In this position, his bulge came right over my core. I shamelessly rub myself over him, purring like a cat when he stopped. I heard him snicker lightly as I mewl in protest, making me burn with rage. He thinks he can turn me on whenever he wants to and leave me unsatisfied. I slam my mouth on him, kissing him fiercely, pulling on his hair. He let me have control of the kiss and kneaded my ass with his grabby palms.
I was close to having the wave of orgasm almost hit me when I was pressed back into the wall again. His body caged me to stop the friction I had desperately needed.
A low growl comes from the back of my throat. I fist his hair tightly pulled back. That fucking masochist gave me a fucking smirk.
"What the fuck?" I growl. He smiled and tried to kiss me. I bit on his lip hard until I felt the metallic taste on my tongue.
"Put me down, old man, and take care of that pencil dick in your pants." I grit, slapping on his shoulders as the build-up inside my core painfully dissipates.
"Pencil dick!" he resonates, pushing himself deeper to my core. I threw my head back and clenched my jaw to stop another wave of orgasm from building up. I don't understand how he is literally holding up. I feel jaded and frustrated.
