017

~Arnold

I didn't answer. I just gripped her waist and steered her toward the small bathroom, the music still thumping behind us like a frantic heartbeat.

I kicked the door shut and flicked on the light, the sudden brightness reflecting off the tiled walls and the steam from the shower I’d left running earlier.

I pinned her against the edge of the sink, the cold porcelain a sharp contrast to the heat of her skin.

I grabbed the handheld showerhead, turning it on and letting the warm water spray over us, rinsing away the sweat and the musk of our first round.

"You think you're so smart," I murmured, my hands sliding over her wet, bare breasts, my thumbs flicking over her nipples which were even harder now under the spray of the water.

"I think I know a man who's still hungry," she teased, her back arching as she felt me press my cock, already stirring back to life against the curve of her hip.

I grabbed a bar of soap, lathering it between my hands before sliding them down her body, mapping every inch of her.

When I reached her pussy, my fingers slipped easily through her folds, the soap making everything dangerously slick.

She gasped, her hands clutching the edge of the sink as I slid two fingers inside her, the friction perfect and wet.

"You're going to be the death of me, Dorla," I growled, bending her over the vanity so her ass was arched up toward me.

She looked at me through the mirror, her eyes dark and clouded with desire. "Then make it a slow death, Arnold. I want to feel you everywhere."

I didn't wait. I reached for a condom from my travel kit, rolled it on with shaking hands, and lined myself up at her entrance.

I entered her in one long, deep thrust that made her scream, the sound echoing off the bathroom tiles.

I gripped her hips, pulling her back against me as I started a heavy, rhythmic pace, the steam rising around us until we were lost in a blur of heat and forbidden pleasure.

I didn't hold back. I gripped her hips until my knuckles turned white, driving into her with a raw, primal force that rattled the medicine cabinet.

Dorla was lost, her head thrashing against the mirror as she began muttering in a frantic, melodic blur, half delirious Italian phrases she’d probably heard her father growl during his business meetings.

The words were beautiful and jagged, a rhythmic counterpoint to the wet slaps of our bodies colliding.

"Arnold... per favore... oh Dio...*" she gasped, her eyes rolling back.

She turned her head slightly, catching her breath for a split second, a wicked, pained smirk crossing her lips. "I’m going to... I’m going to report you to my father for this," she joked breathlessly, her voice trembling. "I'll tell him you're... you're murdering me."

I let out a dark, guttural laugh, the adrenaline of the threat only making my blood boil hotter.

"Tell him," I grunted, grabbing her hair gently to pull her head back and exposing her neck. "Tell him exactly how I'm doing it."

I punctuated the sentence with three heavy, soul crushing thrusts that sent a fresh wave of Italian curses from her lips.

But after a few minutes, the rhythm felt too steady, too predictable. I wanted to see the exact moment her composure shattered for good.

I gripped her waist and hoisted her up, spinning her around so she was facing me. I hiked her left leg up, hooking her knee over the cold porcelain of the sink.

The position opened her up completely, her pussy stretched and glistening under the harsh bathroom light.

I lined myself up and buried my cock inside her again, the depth of the thrust making her entire body shudder.

I leaned in, latching my mouth onto her breast. I sucked her nipple so hard she let out a jagged cry, my teeth grazing the sensitive tip while I kept up a relentless, punishing pace below.

She was clawing at my back, her nails leaving stinging red tracks across my skin.

"Faster," she whimpered, her hands moving to my face to pull me up.

I crashed my lips onto hers, swallowing her moans as our tongues fought for space. She was begging into my mouth now, her "faster, faster" muffled against my lips.

I obliged, my hips moving in a blurred frenzy, the sound of the water spraying against the shower curtain and the booming music in the bedroom creating a wall of sound that protected our little slice of hell.

I watched her in the mirror, the Don’s daughter, the forbidden princess completely undone, her body shaking as she neared a second, even more violent release. Then she released on me.

The hot water from the shower cascaded over us, washing away the sweat as she slumped against the tiled wall, her chest heaving.

She was spent, her eyes glazed with a sleepy, post orgasmic glow.

I reached out, gathering her damp hair in my hand and pulling it over one shoulder so I could pepper her neck with soft, lingering kisses.

"I'm not done yet, Dorla," I whispered against her skin, the vibration of my voice making her shiver.

"Arnold... I’m exhausted," she breathed, her head falling back against my shoulder. "I don't think I can move another inch."

"Little princess," I murmured, a slow smirk spreading across my face. "We don't need you to move. Let's just go slowly."

I reached down and peeled off the spent condom, tossing it aside. I stepped into the spray with her, the steam swirling around us.

I positioned her with her palms flat against the wet tiles and stepped in close behind her. I wrapped one arm around her waist, my hand moving up to cup her heavy breast, my fingers teasing her nipple as it pebbled under the warm water.

I guided my bare cock to her entrance and pushed in, the heat of the water making the sensation almost overwhelming.

She let out a long, shaky gasp, her fingers twitching against the wall. I began to fuck her from behind, my movements slow, deep, and deliberate.

Every thrust was a slow motion burn, intended to savor the friction of our bodies.

"Oh... Arnold," she moaned, her voice barely a whisper over the sound of the falling water.

She turned her head, her neck craning back so our lips could meet.

I kissed her deeply, our tongues moving with the same languid rhythm as my hips. It was intimate, almost tender, a stark contrast to the violence of the room outside.

I watched the water beads roll down her back and disappear into the curve of her ass as I kept up the steady, hypnotic pace.

I felt the pressure building again, a deep, heavy throb at the base of my spine. I didn't want to finish inside her this time, I wanted to see it.

Just as the peak hit, I pulled out of her wet heat. I gripped my cock and let out a guttural groan, releasing my hot load across her smooth, tan laps and the tops of her thighs.

She watched through the steam, a tired but satisfied smile on her face as she watched the water slowly start to rinse my seed away.