Protected By a Mafia Boss

"Carmine... I'm about to...." "Not before I taste you." He delivers me, permitting my legs to drop. "Taste..." He slides down my body and throws my legs over his shoulders with my back squeezed against the chilly metal wall. His warm, thick tongue plunges inside my hot pussy. "Fuck..." I toss my head back, scaling the wall, yet he grasps my thighs, holding me set up. His tongue twirls around my clit, sucking and licking in a way that creeps me out. I curve into him, riding his face, grasping his hair. Sweet delivery is inside my grip, and he keeps sucking, licking, focusing on the areas that settle on me wriggle and decision his name. The stars glint behind my shut eyes, and I open them, gazing at the roof. My shirt is open, Carmine is between my thighs, and give up is torn from my spirit. My climax collides with me like a wave, shaking my entire body and making me pant for air. Carmine clutches me until the last quakes die down before he stands up and kisses my temple delicately. "Much obliged to you," I murmur energetically, resting up against him for help as we both catch our breaths. "That was only the tidbit." Carmine sneers and presses a modest kiss all the rage before at long last squeezing the lift button and getting it under way once more. "Imagine a scenario where somebody saw us." I look at the camera, feeling anxious briefly at the prospect of my own standing and vocation. "They'll be biting the dust to understand how I intend to treat you." With his lips squeezed against my neck, the lift entryways open on the highest level of the extravagant inn, and he ventures out. A dazzling perspective on the city underneath should be visible from the glass walls, the horizon with lights that sparkle and shimmer in the evening. The impression of the actual room is reflected against them, making a wonderful sight. "This is lovely." "Not more lovely than you." He accumulates me in his arms and conveys me inside. He thuds down on the love seat that sets before the lit chimney. With the perspectives on New York around midnight radiating through the windows, he starts to take off my garments. I rapidly copy him, anxious to taste him the manner in which he tasted me. I push his coat off, dropping it to the floor. Then, at that point, I unfasten his dress shirt, tearing his undershirt until I'm holding his solid arms and kissing across his characterized chest, the skin of which I scratched with my nails during my delivery. "You're awesome." "I'm a long way from it, bellissima. Presently, let me see you." He pulls from me and stops to respect me for one minute. The white ribbon bra differentiating against the tan skin and dim twists falling thickly over my shoulders. "Strip for me."