My Own Mess

Not the funny kind of cuffs

I was certain the entire staff of The Artemisia Palace Hotel had had enough of us by now, running from the rain pouring outside straight to their lift making pools as we waited, only to find a family checking out with every single bag in the world. Not that Bernardo Trabia cared at all about the staff or anybody's opinion as he stood behind me, sliding his hand on my thigh going up and down drawing circles making every muscle of my body tighten in response as the couple and its children worked to get out of the way. His last name kept every last mouth shut in that region.

They didn't try to talk to us, as I assumed mi amore must have had a murderous face kept waiting. The boy I had grown up with simply disappeared under the hungry eyes that caught mine as he spun me inside slamming the button to our floor, setting the lift in motion, and moving to pin me against the wall sliding my leg up to his waist too fast for the soaked white lace dress I wore. The sound of it ripping sent a pulse through my body, then another as he pulled me tighter, sliding his arm behind my back until he had a handful of my hair, pulling it to leave all my neck and breasts at the mercy of his lips and teeth. He kissed and nibbed his way up to my ear.

"Those tourists spent just about the last drop of patience I had in me." I laughed my voice husky of desire but all too eager to provoke.

"Nothing much then." He smiled against my neck.

"If that was the case, I would've just shot the ceiling and fucked you in the front desk as people ran. But since you're spunky enough to provoke" he brought his lips to mine "I might have to spank it out of you" said, biting and sucking on my lower lip as the lift clicked opened and he let me go completely, just enough for me to take a step and be swept from off my feet and thrown over his shoulder. A slap on my butt sent a wave of heat to my insides making me squirm not only to be put down. He only did so when we were in our room, slamming the door and sliding me between it and his body, stopping my legs around his waist as he struggled to get my dress out of the way. Clearly still not ripped enough for his taste. I laughed and he pulled away only enough to see my face as he squinted with a wicked smile.

"So, we're laughing at me now, aren't we?" He let me down, cupping my face between his hands depositing kisses working his way to the centre of my cleavage where he took hold of the delicate soaked fabric and ripped it in a straight line down to the hem. "Hope you didn't like this one too much." He winked before feasting on my breasts setting me on fire. He still had all his clothes, so I pulled the white shirt off sticking to him having now full view of prime quality sculpted abbs, courtesy of the Sicilian Mafia training. My eyes trailed far down. "Do you want something, cicci?" He said, taking a step back to take in the desire making me melt, cupping my breasts in his hands.

"Are you going to make me beg, amorino?"

"Don't I always?" His fingers captured my nipples pulling them as he guided me to bed, laying me there. His fingers navigated through my body with expertise, making me gasp when two of them pushed my panties aside and finally made their way into me knowing exactly where and how to touch me to get me begging for more. He laid on top of me savouring the movement of my hips in the rhythm he dictated, in and out and around. He pulled me closer making his breath dance on my neck. "This may be a good time to mention that I have no intention on letting you out of my sight in Russia" What? My mind jumped on the mention of my soon to be new home the topic we had been discussing over dinner, only to be dragged back into mayhem by this thumb on my clit.

"Yeeees. Like that, fuck."

"Only if you accept gracefully my present." Urgh, I would roll my eyes if I had any control where they were going.

"I... don't need... a house" I managed to half moan my complaint as he sped up, taking me to the nbrink of oblivion. He clicked his tongue, still annoyed to hell and back with my refusal.