The Mafia Boss

Ch. 15: Are you just going to look at it?

I watch Torin undress for approximately two seconds before I intervene and start unbuttoning his shirt for him. His fingers aren't working quick enough and—quite frankly—that's my job.

"Someone's desperate."

"Shut the fuck up or I'll gag you," I warn, pulling on the last two and ripping the material.

Torin smirks in the face of my anguish and takes hold of my face, squeezing my jaw just enough to pucker my lips.

"I want that pretty mouth of yours wrapped around my cock."

Fuck!

"Now!"

I drop to my knees and reach for his belt, heart racing a mile a minute. I quicken my movements, needing his taste on my tongue and his moans in my ear. Last night was fleeting. Fast. Don't get me wrong, it was amazing, but I didn't have the time—nor the pleasure—to explore. I want to savour every second with Torin. I want to make every moment count.

"Are you just going to look at it?" he asks, gazing down at me.

Water continues to rain down on us, but the way he has his body positioned stops it from reaching me.

"It's called delayed gratification, Torin. Try looking it up sometime."

He responds by pulling down his trousers and taking hold of his cock. It's delicious in length, the tip already dripping with precum. He lightly tugs, remaining completely silent as he regards me carefully, eyes ablaze.

"Your turn," he eventually states, edging closer.

I lick my lips in preparation and close my eyes, humming in delight the second he slides down my throat.

"Fuckkkkk!" he hisses, arousal unmatched.

I look up at him, fixated on the way his own eyes are tightly closed. His teeth sink into his bottom lip, moans still somehow slipping through.

"So good. So fucking good."

I incorporate my tongue and increase my pace, bringing my hands to rest on either side of his hips. He positions one of his hands on top of mine and uses the other to wrap around my hair. Once there, he encourages my head back and forth, silently telling me what he likes. I continue to suck and lick, drawing the most sensual of sounds from him. He eventually loses all composure and moves his hips in time with my head, fucking my mouth with a force I quickly become obsessed with. He braces himself on the wall behind me, groaning continuously.

"I'm close," he warns, attempting to withdraw.

I quickly pull him back in and suck, making him squirm.

"Imogen—I'm gonna fucking come, sweetheart."

I refuse to relent and—if anything—suck even harder. If he thinks I'm giving up now, he can think again. I didn't come all this way to fall at the last hurdle.

"Fuck—Imogen!"

He thrusts his hips one last time before spilling into me, coming completely undone in the process. My name becomes a worship on his tongue as the intensity of his orgasm spirals into paradise. I watch him carefully as his hips buck and thrash, in desperate need of prolonging this moment for his own selfish needs. His pleasure tastes sensational and I make sure to not only enjoy the moment, but to take every last drop.

"That was—"

I rise to height, a little unstable on my legs. "Incredible?"

He nods.

"My turn," I tease.

He meets my joke with defiance and starts clambering to his knees before I stop him.