Home > Books > By Fate I Conquer (Sins of the Fathers #4)(147)

By Fate I Conquer (Sins of the Fathers #4)(147)

Author:Cora Reilly

I came up behind her and touched her slender waist, towering over in the mirror. “Lift your leg.”

With an elegant move she raised her leg and put her ankle on the bar. This position allowed me to see how the crotch of her leotard wedged between her pussy. My mouth watered. I sank to my knees, shoved her leotard thong aside and licked her from behind, loving the access this ballet move gave me. I could feel Greta watching me eat her out in the mirror.

I didn’t give her leg a chance to give in from strain. I drove her toward her orgasm at high speed, too eager to fuck her in front of the mirrors.

She came in my mouth, her little clit pulsing against my lip, her juices dripping on my tongue.

Her fingers around the bars were white, her eyes closed as she basked in the pleasure.

I pressed a kiss to Greta’s swollen pussy lips before I scooted backward and pushed to my feet.

I unzipped my pants and freed my cock. Greta still had her eyes closed and her chest was heaving, her nipples hard.

She had lowered herself to her sole, one leg still suspended on the bar. “Get back on your tiptoe,” I said gruffly.

She did without hesitation but when she moved to lower her leg, I touched her calf. “This one stays up.”

She bit her lower lip as I guided my tip to her opening, widening my stance so I could reach her. I rubbed my tip over her slick opening before I pushed in my tip. Greta’s lips parted. I lowered my gaze, loving the sight of my fat tip buried in Greta’s beautiful pussy, how it welcomed my cock even though it seemed like it would never fit. Discomfort filled Greta’s face and I stroked her calf and thigh but didn’t stop.

I pushed deeper in, groaning as my tip was squeezed and stroked by Greta’s inner walls.

Greta’s fingers tightened further around the bar and I tilted her head back and lowered my mouth to hers as I filled her entirely. We kissed for a bit before I pulled back, unable to resist the need to see my cock buried in Greta.

This raw act of claiming Greta was the hottest thing I’d ever seen.

Greta released a shuddering breath. Her muscles briefly tightened their hold, making me grit my teeth before they loosened. She was always tight around me but I knew I could move now.

“It feels so good. Don’t stop.”

Soon Greta became even slicker as I worked my way in and out slowly. My cock glistened with her juices and I sped up. I wrapped my arms tightly around Greta’s chest as I pushed into her. In the mirror I watched Greta’s lust-filled face, her tiny nipples puckering against the sheer material of her leotard and my cock claiming her sweet pussy.

We came at the same time and both sank to the ground in a breathless heap, Greta in my lap.

“Since the first time I saw you in your tutu, I’ve wanted to do this,” I rasped.

“You desired me back then already?”

“Oh yes. I was completely obsessed from the first second. I never believed in love at first sight, but you converted me.”

Greta laughed, her expression doubtful. “It sounds like lust at first sight.”

“Trust me, it wasn’t just lust. I’ve felt lust before but what I felt when I saw you it was so much more potent and scarier.”

“So I scared you in the beginning?”

I chuckled. “You could say that. It was a new experience. Does that shock you?”

She grinned cheekily. “Not really. I’m a Falcone.”

I laughed and slammed my lips against hers. After a moment I pulled back. “You’re a Vitiello now.” I’d never grow tired of hearing someone call her Greta Vitiello, especially around Remo or Nevio.

She tilted her head, her eyes soft and loving. “I’m both.”

I knew her heart would always be split between Las Vegas and New York, and that was okay. Greta’s heart was big enough for her family and me. I would eternally be grateful that she’d opened her heart for me at all.

Three years later

I touched a cold cloth to Mom’s forehead. She cried out again. Her teeth sinking into her lower lip, her face flushed and sweaty, her hair sticking to her forehead.

She sunk her fingers into the linen, her palms braced against the bed, rotating her hips as she breathed through the next contraction.

She had been in labor for five hours and seeing her pain, I felt grateful and awed over her sacrifice.

I rubbed her back and she relaxed as the contraction faded away and she got a moment to breathe. She gave me an exhausted smile. “I don’t think it’s long now. I can feel it. A head is bearing down really strongly. Soon you’ll have your babies.”