Braden: A Dark Mafia Romance Read Online Free PDF Page B

exploring my wetness.  The surge of pleasure he brought made me even more confused, but as one of his meaty fingers circled my clitoris, I found myself letting go of all doubt.  I knew I wasn’t going to stop him; I knew he was going to fuck me.
    “You know what you want, Angela.”  He slid a finger down my labia and another finger started to penetrate my vaginal cavity.
    “Oh god…”  I whispered and I found myself pushing his jacket off of his shoulders.  I tugged on his tie, pulling it free from his neck.
    He dug his finger harshly into my pussy.  I was so used to sweet and tender love that I wasn’t expecting his roughness.  Even the timid boys who wanted me so bad they barely got their cock inside of me before they came treated me like a fragile flower.  He pushed me against the wall even harder, quickly pushing his finger in and out of my wetness.  He moved back to my clitoris, swirling my own lubrication against it before he pushed my panties to the floor.  In one motion, he lifted me out of the crumbled heap of clothes, and slammed me against the wall.  If I wasn’t so blinded by lust, I would have protested as the edge of the window crashed into my shoulder.  It would definitely leave a mark.  Instead of crying out with pain, I simply moaned with pleasure and tugged his unbuttoned shirt from his pants.  My fingers started to unfasten his belt and his lips were on my neck again.
    “Where the hell did you come from?”  I asked as my whole body tingled.
    “Stop asking question.”  He said with a forceful tone.
    “Okay…”  I whispered as he took my ear in his teeth and tickled it with his tongue.
    What questions could I really ask?  Even if he gave me an answer, I couldn’t stop myself.  His pants slid to the floor and his boxers were next.  My hand wrapped around his cock and I stroked it as my eyes finally got a good view of his naked body.  He had tattoos on his chest, arms, and back.  They seemed to be intertwined into some sort of diagram, like a pattern trying to tell the story of his life.  The forearm that held the back of my neck had a long barreled rifle of some sort, and there was an American flag on his shoulder.  As his cock continued to swell, I was amazed at the size.  It was easily the largest one I had ever held in my hand.  He slid a hand behind my ass and lifted my leg by the thigh, breaking my grasp as he slid himself between my legs and pressed it against my pussy.  A second later, I was impaled on his manhood, my eyes wide with shock.  He felt so good and when he began to rapidly withdraw and slam into me, I had to close my eyes from the intense pleasure that radiated from each impact.  My back lifted up and slid down the rough wall every time he thrust himself inside of me.
    “My god…”  He said with a hurried breath.  “You feel amazing…”
    It sounded like the first honest thing he had said to me, the first comment not veiled with mystery.  Who he wasn’t didn’t matter—not at that point.  I reveled in every deep thrust, missing him for the brief instant he withdrew, then finding that same feeling again when he buried himself up inside of me.  I knew I would be a battered mess when he was done pounding me against the wall, but the bruises would be felt later—what mattered in that moment was the thrill igniting within me each time I felt the next thrust.  One of my hands rested on his shoulder and the other rested on his ribs.  He was well built, like he was carved from a statue by an artist’s hammer.  I could feel his muscles tense each time he moved his whole body forward, lifting my smaller frame as if I was as light as a feather.  His thrusts were so powerful he kept me pressed against the wall, my feet dangling and touching the floor for a brief instant before I was lifted towards the heavens again.
    “I’m gonna cum…”  I said louder than I intended, but my heart was beating so hard I barely heard it.
    Feeling my body