Bunny |18+|

Ch.24

Domenico

Kiara.

That was all I could think of these past few days.

Fuck Camillo, fuck her brothers, that Russian cunt in particular—all I wanted was a piece of her every day just to taste that sweet drop of honey on my tongue. Ecstasy—maybe it was an overused word to convey that sexual release, but it was the only thing that ever came close to describing the way she tormented my needs.

Why have cocaine when all you needed was a bunny to reach that addictive high?

I couldn't pull myself away—I couldn't. I tried to at least but the consequence was a night of frustration and rage that I couldn't wrap myself around her tight folds. She branded me, and I'd fall to my fucking knees if she ever gave me the chance.

Soft. Sweet. Innocent.

I wanted her all to my fucking self.

Unfortunately, I got carried away, a bit too much. Drugs were addictive, but Kiara was even worse.

I'm a mafia boss, for crying out loud. I've seen death, I've seen murders. I've seen bodies fall to their knees at just the tip of my handgun, but nothing could have ever been more memorable than fucking that woman into her bed as she screamed my name like bloody murder.

I craved her like a drug.

Silence thickened within my bathroom as I tapped my forehead against the tile wall, looking down at the water flowing down my body. The temperature was set to cold—icy in hopes to wake me the fuck up from my delusion. I glared down at my swollen arousal—a mere tempting excuse to release every aching thought about that woman.

Anger, frustration and desire coiled in the very pits of my stomach before I eventually caved, dropping every sense of self control and pushed a forearm between my forehead and the wall whilst my other hand went straight down to fisting my cock.

Slow. Calm. Gentle...

"I adore you Domenico. So much so that my fucked up mind had to think of ways to push myself away from you."

I quickened my strokes, closing my eyes as water flowed freely down my body. My hips bucked, and soon enough I found myself fucking my own fist.

"Touch me," she whispered, "please."

Fast. Desperate. Rough.

My jaw clenched, feeling my own brows furrow as my forearms started to grow tired of the same constant movements. My fist pumped up and down my slick dick, spilling with precum before I felt my own orgasm rock my body in a way that robbed me from full satisfaction.

A quivered groan left my lips once I blinked, looking down at the thick, globby messy I made that was sliding down the tile wall.

You're fucking disgusting, Dom.

Never have I found myself in a position that left me wanting something I couldn't simply buy with money. I hated the grip she had on me, though ironically loved the fact that I'd do anything just to satisfy her in a way that'll bring a smile to her face.