novelxo The Syndicater: Chapter 24
Amara had read that finding the time and the urge for sex was a little difficult in the first year of parenthood. Thankfully, it was not a problem she and her husband had. From the moment the doctor had given her the green light, she had been on her, in her, around her more than not.
“Lift your knee,” Dante commanded her, his voice so fucking rough it sent a shiver down her spine, his dark eyes so hot on hers it was a miracle she had not combusted then and there on the study floor. The very study floor he was currently kneeling on.
The gold silk dress she’d worn to the party was next to the locked door, possibly ripped, along with his clothes, which had finally come off after teasing and testing each other throughout the party. His lips had been at her ears all night, appearing to the guests to be sweet nothings into the ears of his wife, while he’d been whispering all the dirty things he would be doing to her and forcing her to keep a straight face. It had been rough trying to be a perfect hostess with drenched panties.
Amara lifted her knee to the edge of the desk and bent down over it. It was ironic to her that Lorenzo Maroni had cursed her in this same office over the same desk that she now owned, and her husband worshipped her over it.
And looking behind her, seeing him stroking himself, large and hard, she felt another gush of wetness. Amara licked her lips, knowing it had been a very good idea to abstain from sex for a few days. She knew it had driven him mad, but boy, was she reaping the benefits now. It hadn’t been intentional on their part, but it had just been an extra busy few days. Dante bent forward, covering her back, his lips at her ear again.
‘My mouth or my cock?’
God, she loved how dirty he talked to her in private. The world knew Dante Maroni as a polished, perfect gentleman, and he was, but he was also a dirty, sexy man and he let the full scope of that out when he was with her.
A hard choice to make, Amara grinned. ‘Both.’
‘Dirty girl,’ he growled in her ear, pressing a soft kiss to it.
The next thing she knew, Dante lifted her leg higher, exposing her obscenely to the room and his gaze, and licked a stripe with his tongue over her pussy.
A small lick. Amara bit her lip. Another. She mewled. Another. Her chest heaved. Another. Her eyes closed.
His thumbs rubbed hard circles over her inner thighs, each little circle wounding her up tighter and tighter, and she barely kept her eyes open. Dante alternated, taking his time, and deliberately, slowly, took her skin between his teeth and gently bit on it. A long moan escaped her unbidden, her nerves making her entire body even more erogenous than it already was.
Slowly, planting bites and kisses over her thighs, Dante trailed his lips to her wet core, opening her lips to his hot gaze and just looking into her eyes, spiking her desire even higher.
Amara felt her eyes roll back, her juices gushing out as she gripped the edge of the desk. Dante’s mouth, that mouth that should be categorized as a weapon, unleashed on her, eating her out with skill and desire that she could feel in every lick, every thrust, every roll of his tongue. He took her clit in her mouth, sucking on it and her knees buckled in response, going weak and she grabbed his hair, her own falling down her back.
The moment she grabbed his hair, Dante dived in, making her cry out, his tongue plunging inside her, tasting her, feasting on her like a man quenching his thirst, and she plunged her fingers into his hair deeper for purchase, her head tilting back and body humming loudly with the pleasure shooting out from her center, fanning out over her limbs, her arm stretched back to keep a hold.
This was one of the special times Dante was eating her out over the desk. He had a billion times in every other place she could think of, but somehow, the desk was reserved for special occasions when he liked to say a mental ‘fuck you’ to his father.
“Dante,” she whimpered, her body rising higher and higher, her pussy slippery against him. His hands tightened on her hips, keeping her upright with his sheer strength that only aroused her more. Holy gods of sex, the man was hot when he did stuff like that.
The noises filling the study were acute, filling her with even more profound desire as she started shaking, almost at the edge, his tongue flicking continuously around her clit and plunging inside her and back again, the smell of her arousal stark in the space. Just as she felt her limbs turn languid and her body strain, he pulled back.
Amara waited a second to see if he would do something else, but Dante just kneeled behind her, her leg held up by one large hand. She looked back, and he smirked at her. Her frustration made her snap a sharp “What?” at him.
‘It’s the first birthday of the baby I told my father I was going to put inside you,’ he told her, grinning. Ah, that was the special desk occasion. She giggled, feeling like the young girl with a big crush.
He dove back in, this time with so much more aggression she peaked quickly.
‘I won’t last,’ she warned him, feeling the beginnings of the familiar heat in her lower abdomen, one that spread to her breasts and neck and up to her face, flushing her cheeks.
‘Come on my mouth,’ he ordered, going at it hard.
And within seconds, with a tight grip of her fingers in his hair, Amara came, her body shaking with the ferocity of the fever in her blood. She went limp over the desk, breathing hard, and felt him stand up.
Before she could catch her breath properly, he was carrying her with an arm around her stomach, right over her pregnancy scars and stretch marks, across the room.
He sat down on the couch, the one they always sat on when their friends came over. He took a hold of her hips and, before she could even balance herself, impaled her on his length.
Amara screamed, her voice raspy, trying to find something to hold, but nothing came to her. Her legs dangled over his, and she leaned back, her back to his chest, trying to find purchase with one arm on the back of the couch. Dante stayed still inside her while she adjusted, his hands on her hips that had gotten wider since the pregnancy. Putting her leg down so her toes touched the floor, Amara finally felt like she could take a pounding he was in the mood to mete out.
Her breath whooshed out as he took her lobe in his mouth, tugging on it with his teeth. Her body, already on the verge of an orgasm, swung wildly out of her control, the fullness inside her gnawing, needing him to move already.
“Dante,” she whimpered, tilting her head back as his lips took over her neck, nibbling and biting, brushing and tasting right under her ear, her supernova spot of sorts, and Amara felt herself tumble towards more pleasure, just to have him pull back a bit.
“Stop playing, Dante,” she snapped in annoyance and frustration, turning her head to glare at him. Dante leaned back in to kiss her neck, his hands traveling to her full breasts, cupping them completely in his hands, squeezing once before pinching her already engorged nipples lightly, tugging on them. Amara cried out at the intense sensation, her ire forgotten, just on the precipice, a bead of milk coming out since she was still breastfeeding, when he stopped again.
She was getting mad now.
But before she could even say a word, Dante was lifting her right leg by the knee, high, putting it on the couch, and spreading her other one. He pulled her hips away from himself and towards him, making her lean her torso forward to move with the rhythm. He kept a hold on her leg by draping it over one strong forearm and held her hips with the other, securing her in place.
“Tonight,” he spelled out for her, his cock throbbing inside her “I am going to fuck you a week’s worth. I am going to make you come so many fucking times you’ll forget what it’s like not having me inside you.”
Her muscles clenched around him at the words, her body heating up again, and she wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling him closer. “Take me however you want. I’m all yours.”
With a hoarse sound from his chest, he pulled her up by the hips, pulling out completely.
“Dante,” she begged, needing him, or she’d explode.
“Fuck, Amara,” he ground out, before she felt him slip inside her again, slowly, inch by torturing inch.
She tried to push back, to get him to go faster, but he held her still, going excruciatingly slow. Her muscles shivered and welcomed him inside, wrapping around him like a glove, trying to urge him to go faster. But he stayed still, and he throbbed.
“Move, Dante,” Amara muttered, feeling her hips strain with the need to move. But he stayed motionless, only moving her knee over his elbow and putting his finger on her clit. He pushed the tiny muscle, rubbing it while completely inside her, and Amara cried out, feeling so full and so sensitive, so on the edge that one more flick of his thumb and she lost it. Her head leaned back against him, her hands slipping for purchase and her back bowed, stars exploding behind her closed eyes in such a powerful orgasm her entire body shook, her inner walls fluttering around him, as his mouth clamped down on the side of her breast.
And mid-orgasm, he pulled out and thrust in, hard, making her scream out loud, her orgasm unable to end, his hand rubbing on her clit as he pistoned his hips roughly into her, hammering them over and over again, the angle from behind him making him go much, much deeper inside. Her chest heaved as cries and whimpers left her along with his name, moans, and breathy sighs mingling together, her fingers trying to clutch on the couch but unable to. She moved one hand down to his, where he held her hips and dug into his flesh, feeling the warm muscles contract under her touch as he increased his pace, the motion of his hips cutting her completely open, so fast and so quick that he would be in and out before she caught a breath, her body never leaving that almost orgasmic state.
And then he bit her on the side of her breast, hard, while thrusting so deep into her, his rough voice muttering a rugged, “Fuck, you are mine. All mine. My queen, my dirty girl, just mine,” right over his mark and Amara panted, her legs completely giving out under her.
Dante pulled out and turned her immediately, picking her up in his arms and taking her weight, making her straddle him as he entered her again.
‘Ride me, my queen. Show me what it’s like to sit on this fucking throne.’
That turned her on even more, She pulled on his hair, pulling his face up for a sloppy kiss as she started moving her hips sinuously against him, just as he liked, her body completely languid in his arms, his to do whatever he wanted to do with it, following his lead and building up to another peak together.
His hands cupped her breasts, teased her nipples, uncaring for the milk that ran down them. Their mouths meshed and tongues tangled, and she felt him twitch inside her one second before he spilled in jerky movements, keeping her aloft, his seed warm and triggering her own final orgasm, making her mewl against his mouth and clamp down hard on him, pulling him completely into her. He stilled, letting his own orgasm ride out, his arms wrapped completely around her, and pulled his head back, leaning their foreheads together.
They opened their eyes and looked at each other briefly before smiling simultaneously softly at each other.
‘That was hot,’ she told him, slumped over him.
‘Yeah,’ he agreed, breathing hard, still inside her.
‘Happy first birthday to the babies we made,’ he said after a long second of getting his bearings.
She kissed his lips again. ‘You know you’re the best dad in the world already?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Mmhmm.’
He gave her a serious look. ‘You want more?’
‘Sex? Always.’
He chuckled, rubbing a thumb over her wet nipple. ‘I meant babies.’
Her heart stopped at his question. She pulled back and looked into his eyes, looking at the sincerity on his face. ‘I don’t know. I’m not sure but if it happens…’ she shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t mind it.’
Dante whooped, crushing her to him again. ‘I better get to practicing then.’
And then, he lay her down on the couch, making her laugh with years and years of practice and proving why physical connection would never be a problem for them.