Chapter 135 135

Chapter 135 135
Mia
"I'm going to cum," I gasp. "Oh god, I'm going to cum."
"Do it," he commands, reaching between us to rub my clit. "Cum on my cock, mia moglie."
His fingers are rough and demanding, pinching the sensitive nub in time with his thrusts. That’s all it takes.
I explode. My body arches off the table, a silent scream trapped in my throat as waves of pleasure crash over me. My pussy convulses around him, rippling and clenching, trying to milk him dry. I see white, my ears ringing, my entire existence narrowing down to the feeling of him inside me and the friction of his thumb.
He doesn't stop. He fucks me through it, prolonging the pleasure until it borders on pain, dragging every last shock of ecstasy out of my body.
Before I can catch my breath, he pulls out. The sudden emptiness is jarring.
"Turn around," he orders.
I am boneless, limp as a ragdoll, but I obey. I slide off the table, my legs trembling so badly I can barely stand. I turn around, bending at the waist and placing my hands flat on the cold, rough surface of the concrete table.
The cool air hits my wet, exposed flesh.
"Ass up," he says, his hand coming down hard on my right butt cheek.
The slap stings, sending a ripple of shock through me. I moan, pushing my ass back toward him, presenting myself to him. I am completely at his mercy, exposed and vulnerable, and it makes me hotter than I have ever been.
I feel him step up behind me. His hands grip my hips, holding me steady. I know what’s coming. We have never done this outside before, never taken this specific risk, but the thrill of it, the taboo nature of being fucked in our garden where anyone could see, drives me insane.
He spits. I feel the warm wetness hit my tight rear entrance, followed by the thick head of his cock.
"Relax, kitten," he murmurs, one hand rubbing the small of my back. "Let me in."
I take a deep breath, forcing my body to unclench. He presses forward, slowly this time, letting the tight ring of muscle stretch around him. It burns—a sharp, intense burn that makes my eyes water. He is so big, and this is so tight.
"Fuck," he hisses through gritted teeth. "You're squeezing the life out of me."
He pushes deeper, inch by inch, until he is fully sheathed in my ass. I feel full, incredibly full, stretched to the limit. It’s a heavy, dark sensation, different from the pleasure of my pussy, but just as consuming.
"You okay?" he asks, his voice strained with the effort of holding still.
"Yes," I pant, my fingers scrabbling at the concrete. "Move. Please move."
He doesn't need telling twice.
He pulls back and slides back in, establishing a rhythm. It starts slow, giving me time to adjust to the intrusion, but soon, the friction takes over. He fucks my ass with deep, punishing strokes, his hips slapping against my butt cheeks.
The sensation is overwhelming. It is dirty and raw and so intense I can barely breathe. Every nerve ending in my body is on fire. I can hear the wet, squelching sounds of his cock moving inside me, the slap of his skin against mine, his ragged breathing mixing with my own moans.
"Who does this belong to?" he grits out, punctuating his question with a hard thrust that drives me against the table, scraping my nipples against the rough concrete.
"You! You, Alessandro!" I scream. "It’s yours!"
"Damn right," he growls.
He reaches around, his fingers finding my clit again. He rubs it in tight, fast circles, matching the rhythm of his cock in my ass. The dual stimulation is too much. I am being assaulted by pleasure from the front and the back, trapped between him and the hard table.
I forget my name. I forget where I am. I forget that I am the daughter of a Chicago Capo, that I am a wife, that I am pregnant with his child. There is only this. Only the brutal drag of his cock, the lightning strikes of his fingers on my clit, the scent of sweat and sex and the night air.
I am reduced to an animal, a creature of pure sensation. I am babbling incoherently, pleading with him, cursing him, begging him for more.
"Harder," I choke out. "Fuck me harder, Sandro. Ruin my ass."
He snarls, a sound of pure dominance, and obliges. He hammers into me, his grip on my hips bruising, his strokes erratic and wild. He is close. I can feel it in the way his body tenses, in the way his breathing turns into ragged gasps.
"Cum with me, Mia," he commands. "Cum now."
He pinches my clit hard, and I detonate.
My vision goes black. My body seizes up, every muscle locking down as a massive orgasm rips through me. My ass clenches around his cock like a vise, pulsing and milking him. I scream his name, a long, broken wail that echoes across the estate.
With a guttural roar, Alessandro follows me over the edge. He buries himself deep inside me one last time and holds himself there. I feel him pulse, feel the hot jets of his cum filling me, marking the depths of me. It is a scorching sensation, intense and possessive.
We stay like that for a long moment, frozen together, our harsh breathing the only sound in the quiet garden. Slowly, the ringing in my ears subsides, replaced by the chirping of crickets and the distant hum of the city lights.
He pulls out gently, and I whimper at the loss. I feel empty and sore, used in the best possible way. I slump against the table, unable to support my own weight.
Alessandro gathers me into his arms, lifting me up and sitting me on the table again, this time facing him. He leans his forehead against mine, his eyes closed, his breath still coming fast.
"Mia," he whispers. "My Mia."
He reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch tender now, a stark contrast to the brutality of a moment ago. He looks at me, his gray eyes soft, searching my face for any sign of regret. He finds none.
I lean into his touch, pressing a kiss to his palm. I feel drained, bone-deep satisfied, the restless craving finally silenced. The night air feels good against my heated skin, cooling the sweat on my brow.
"Better?" he asks, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips.
I manage a weak smile, my body humming with the aftershocks. "Much."
He pulls my robe back around my shoulders, covering me, shielding me from the night. He kisses me, a soft, lingering kiss that tastes of promises and forever. In this garden, under the moonlight, with the scent of jasmine and sex heavy in the air, the world feels small. There is only him, and the way he holds me, and the feeling that, despite everything, I am exactly where I am meant to be.