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I gasp as Damiano drops backward and takes me with him before I can even process what he’s doing. By the time my brain catches up I’m straddling him, my knees planted on either side of his head with his hands firmly on my ass.

“Dame—”

“Be a good fucking girl and ride my face, little nightmare.”

Aaaaand I melt.

“Grind that pretty pussy on my tongue so I can taste you when you fall apart for me,” he snarls before his tongue plunges into my folds.

I cry out, my face caving as I stare down at him in ecstasy. His fingers sink into my skin, his muscles rippling as he forcibly rocks my hips back and forth, grinding my pussy on his tongue.

Lighting crackles viciously through my center as his tongue thrusts and stabs at my swollen clit.

I’ve never, ever, been manhandled like this. I’ve definitely never found myself riding someone’s face before.

For half a second, I have no fucking idea what to do, like I’m suddenly too aware of my own limbs, and where the hell are my hands supposed to go?

But as I shift as if to pull back, Damiano’s hands tighten on my ass and my hips. His eyes lock with mine, and he slows his tongue, making me watch with my jaw hanging open as he drags it up my slit, still looking me right in the eye as he swirls his tongue around my throbbing clit.

His eyes narrow, saying “don’t you fucking dare pull away”.

My hands start to drift on their own accord, pushing my fingers through my hair, sliding over my body, cupping my tits, pinching my tight nipples. I moan and writhe and finally just let him take charge as he grinds my pussy against his mouth and chin.

My face crumples as I curl in on myself, my hands dropping to his head and holding on for dear life as he rocks my hips on his tongue, wringing the pleasure from my body.

Slapping my ass and making me squeal as my hips grind faster and harder.

Demanding the slickness from my pussy that coats my thighs and his face.

He twists his head and bites my inner thigh so hard that I swear he’s broken through the skin. The jolting rush of adrenaline and pain that it sends rioting through my core has me doubling over and crying out as my walls start to crumble.

As my control begins to crack.

As the dark, vicious, beast snarling inside me finally snaps free.

“Such a pretty little fuck-toy,” he growls against my needy core before he plunges his tongue back into me.

This time, I break.

The choked sound starts in my chest and claws its way up my throat, growing louder and needier and more out of control before it erupts from my mouth like a sob of ecstasy.

My eyes squeeze shut and my shoulders cave forward as my face scrunches up, my mouth hanging open as I buck my pussy against his tongue as I fucking explode all over his mouth and chin.

The world spins.

I gasp when I realize Damiano is rolling us over. My back hits the blood-slicked floor and suddenly, the room crashes back into focus around me.

The bodies. The blood. The sheer fucking carnage of it all.

My ears are ringing. My knuckles throb. Sticky warmth seeps down my back.

And underneath it all, my pulse is pounding like a drum, loud enough that I swear he must hear it.

He grabs my knees and I moan when he spreads my legs and moves between them. His eyes stay locked on mine as one hand drops between us, and the buckle of his belt opens with a sharp, metallic click.

Then the button.

Then the zipper.