taste Daddy’s dick?” Santino never stops with his powerful, long strokes.
“Yessss!”
“Yes, what?”
“Please let me suck your dick, Bad Santa.”
With his cock buried deep inside of me, Santino leans down to press his mouth to the center of my back. In Italian, he murmurs, “You’re mine, Gina. Forever and ever.”
He exits my quaking pussy, grips my ankle, and flips me back over.
Santino comes to the headboard. His extended ropy, long limbs have captivated all my attention. I momentarily forget what my intentions were.
“No more flipping me,” I murmur.
“As you wish,” he says, gesturing to his monster erection that he’s fisting in his hand.
Like a tiger ready to pounce, I move over to him slowly.
“I got this, Santi.” I remove his hand, placing my mouth as far down over the length of him as I can.
Santino’s fingers run through my hair, stroking instead of pulling. I focus on what he desires, whether it’s to polish his cock's crown or deep throat him as best as I can.
He groans from deep in his chest, at peace and satisfied. I want to tell him how much I’ve fallen in love with him. How much I’ve obsessed with how soon was too soon. But my mouth softly strokes down over his thick, rigid manhood.
“I need you, Gina.” His voice is low, gravelly, and filled with emotion.
I climb over all the hard bricks that make the good guy and straddle him.
“I need you too, Santino,” I murmur. My hips plunge me down on top of him, and I sigh in ecstasy. “Mmmm.”
My juice makes way for his size, and I rock steady on him. Head back, Santino’s eyes are barely open. Thick, long lashes brush his golden skin. Mouth agape, Santino hisses as I wrap my arms around him, riding him.
His muscular arms loop around me and he plants a delicate kiss on the tip of my nose then winks. A billion butterflies take flight in my stomach. After all the depraved sex we’ve had, we can still find a fresh, new way to love each other. We move in tandem out of pure instinct. Santino’s grinding his hips up to meet mine, and our bodies fit together, content. Soon enough, my fingertips dig into his shoulders, and his liquid love fills my womb.
53
Gina
It’s two days until Christmas when Santino and I drag ourselves out of bed. He’s offering room service for dinner, and I quickly shake my head no. The five days I was upstate derailing through my mind.
“You dieting or something?”
I jump onto him like a raving lunatic. He deflects my every effort, bringing me into a bear hug.
“Gina, don’t make me put on the Santa hat.”
“Humph! I’ll fight you in that damn hat too! Let’s go out.” I pout.
Holding me close, Santino looks at me through a scrutinizing gaze. “You’ve never been body conscious, Gina.”
“I’m hungry, Santino. I’ll tell you why later.”
“But you’re opposed to room service?” He corks a brow.
“Doesn’t have to be anywhere fancy. Hell, I’ll take McDonald’s drive-thru over room service. But I’m hungry, so let’s get the food, then I’ll share my sob story about room service.”
An hour later, Santino and I have containers from a pit stop that raved of their homemade chili. We’re back in our room—moonlight streaks through the vertical blinds. With the balcony door cracked, a slither of the fresh, frigid air enters the heated room.
As I toss him a spork, grabbing my own with a chuckle.
“What?”
I gesture to the plastic spork, and Santino and I are on the same wavelength.
He smiles. “This time last year, could you imagine using one of these, Gina?”
“Not even the faintest idea. About this time last year, I was getting a Brazilian for our family vacation. Damn, I wouldn’t have any brownie points for telling Antonia that we went on vacation and shared gifts for Christmas in my family.”
“She appreciated that arson story.”
“Yup, I was tactical when sharing it. Awe, I miss your niece a little.” I gesture with my index and thumb. “Just a little. Damn, I almost had her on my side too.”
“Toni likes you.”
I give him a pointed glare. “Yeah, right. My next step was Christmas. I put a rush order on her gift and your ma’s gift. Too bad we’re not around. That friggin website kept saying get it by January.”
“Express mail packages?” Santino asks, forking his food.
“Yeah, why?”
“That was one of the reasons I abducted you. Their gifts came the evening you called me.” He runs a hand along the back of his neck.