Trapped Between The Billionaire Playboy & The Mafia Don

(AURIANNA’S POV)

Giovanni’s mouth crashes against mine as we stumble into his bedroom, slamming the door shut behind us. I can taste the expensive wine on his tongue as our lips smack against each other's.

We stumble clumsily, our hands roaming each other's bodies until the back of my knees hit the edge of the bed. We fall together and he lands on top of me, pinning me to the silk duvet.

My fingers are in his hair, pulling, needing him closer even though there wasn’t a single millimeter of space left between us. His hands are everywhere, rough and possessive, skating up my sides, groping my tits through my dress until my nipples harden.

“This fucking dress,” he growls against my neck, his teeth scraping against my skin. “I’ve been imagining tearing it off you all night.”

“Then do it,” I pant, arching my back to give him better access. “Fucking rip it, Giovanni.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

He pulls on my dress and the sound of tearing fabric fills the room. Cool air hits my skin, then the burning heat of his palms as he cups my bare tits, his thumbs circling my nipples with a pressure that makes me cry out. He shoves the ruined dress down my hips, his own clothes following in a messy pile on the floor until we’re both naked, skin to skin.

He’s so hard, his dick pressing against my stomach. He kisses a fiery trail down my body, his stubble scratching a delicious path over my ribs, my belly, until his hot breath ghosts over the wetness between my legs.

“Look at this,” he growls, his deep voice sending shivers through my body. He drags a single, thick finger through my slick folds. “So fucking wet for me already. Your cunt is dripping, Sandra.”

I could only moan in response, my hips lifting off the bed, begging for his mouth. A wide grin spreads across his before his tongue is on me, stroking from my aching hole all the way up to my throbbing clit.

“Oh, fuck…” I moan.

My back arches off the bed. He doesn't just lick; he devours. He buries his face in my pussy, his tongue fucking into me, lapping at my juices like a man dying of thirst.

Then his finger pushes inside me, making me clench around him instantly.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groans into my pussy, the words muffled but clear. He adds a second finger, stretching me, curling them just right, hitting a spot deep inside that makes my vision blur. His thumb finds my clit, rubbing tight, fast circles while his fingers pump in and out of my dripping cunt.

The pressure builds, then I start to feel a sensation tightening in my gut. “Giovanni… I’m gonna…” I choked out, my hands fisting the sheets.

“Yeah, you are,” he commands, his voice rough. “Squirt all over my fucking face, Sandra. Do it. Let me taste all of you.”

His filthy words were the final push, sending me over the edge.

I scream, my entire body convulsing. A hot rush of liquid gushes out of me, soaking his chin, his hand, the sheets under us. He doesn't pull away; he drives his fingers deeper, milking every last shuddering spasm from my body until I collapse, trembling on the bed.

Before I can even catch my breath, he’s moving over me. He grabs my thighs, his grip almost bruising, and shoves my legs apart, spreading me wide open. I was still pulsing, oversensitive and shaking from the force of my orgasm.

His cock, huge and rock-hard, presses against my soaked entrance. He looks down at me, his eyes black with lust. “I need to be inside this pussy. Right the fuck now.”

I reach for him, pulling him down by his shoulders. “Then stop talking and fuck me.”

He slams himself inside me with one single, powerful thrust, burying his entire length in my pussy. I gasp, my eyes rolling back at the feeling of being so completely filled, so utterly stretched. He holds himself there for a heartbeat, letting me feel every inch of him, before he pulls almost all the way out and slams back in.

This is what I need. No gentle love-making, just raw, mind-numbing friction. His hips roll against mine, the sound of our skin slapping together echoing in the quiet room. Each thrust made me clench around his cock. He hooks my legs over his shoulders, bending me almost in half, and the new angle makes him go even deeper.

“This cunt was made for my cock,” he grunts. “Taking every fucking inch like you were built for it.

I moan as I feel another orgasm building terrifyingly fast, fueled by the filthy things he was saying and the relentless pounding of his cock deep inside me. It crashes over me and my screams fill the room. My nails dig into his back as I moan his name, my cunt clamping down on his dick in a series of violent spasms.

He fucks me right through it, going faster with each thrust. “Fuck, Sandra… I’m close.”

I push at his chest. “Not yet. My turn.”

A look of surprised lust flashes across his face as I roll us over. Now I’m on top, straddling him, his cock still buried deep inside me. I rise up on my knees, sliding almost all the way off him before sinking back down, taking him all the way in one smooth, controlled motion. His hands fly to my hips, his grip possessive, his eyes glued to where his cock is buried deep inside me.

I set a brutal pace, riding him like my life depends on it. Leaning forward, I brac my hands on his chest, my tits swaying with each bounce. I could feel his cock hitting that perfect spot inside me with every downward stroke, sparking little aftershocks of pleasure.

“You like watching me ride your big fucking dick?” I ask, my voice husky.

“God, yes,” he groans, his fingers digging into my skin.

“You wanna come inside this tight cunt, Giovanni? You wanna fill me up?”

His answer is a strangled cry. His hips buck upward, meeting my downward thrust. I felt him pulse inside me, a hot, wet flood that signaled his own climax. The feel of him coming, of his hot cum shooting deep into my womb, tips me over the edge one last time. My pussy clenches around him, milking him for every last drop as my own orgasm ripples through me.

I collapse forward onto his chest, both of our bodies completely slick with sweat.

“That…” he pants. “...was… amazing.”

“I know.” I say, trying to catch my own breath.

“You know..." he starts. “How ‘bout I take you out on a date after this? Hm? What do you say?”

“I'm sorry but the answer’s no.” I reply as I slowly reach for the pillow beside his head.

“Sandra, come on baby girl. Don't be like this. Okay—why don't you wanna go on a date with me?”

I tilt my head and smirk. “’Cause you’re not gonna make it.”

“What?” Giovanni frowns. “What do you mean I’m not gonna—”

Before he can finish, I grab the syringe from under the pillow and stab it into his neck. He yells, shoving me off and scrambling up from the bed as if he can outrun what I already put inside him.

“YOU FUCKING BITCH!” he barks, clutching at the wound with shaking hands. Blood beads on his fingers; he rips the syringe free and flings it to the carpet.

He stares at me, panic and rage warping his face. “What the hell did you just do to me?!”

I sit up on the bed and flip my hair over my shoulder. “I just injected you with a fast-acting poison.”

His eyes go wide. “WHAT?!”

“Oh, Gio honey…” I purr, crossing one leg over the other. “Tonight's the night you die.”