Catherinelle by Diane Portman-Ray

 

21

 

He owned a loft on East River, somewhere near Vernon Boulevard, right at the edge of Astoria. It was an open space, just one big room, huge actually, split by furniture. I walked around inspecting things while Hugo was in the door frame, waiting to see what I did. Some would say he was nervous, but I knew better. This was the Albanian Monster; he had enough money to buy himself a mansion, but he wouldn’t fit in it. On the other hand, this place was Hugo.

His bed was at the far end of the entrance; it was wide with a metallic frame and white cotton sheets. He only had two nightstands and a lamp in his ‘bedroom’ area, unlike me. My bedroom was full of comfy arm chairs and decorative pillows. On the same wall with his bed, there were two doors, one leading to a walk-in closet and one to the bathroom. One of the corners of the room was the kitchen, and it was hidden by sliding barn doors. In the middle of the room, there was a black leather couch with two matching chairs and a coffee table in the middle. The TV was bolted to the wall, and he also had a desk scattered with papers. All his furniture was massive wood, Florentine style, in contrast with the room itself.

Somehow, in all the chaos, the place made sense, with two tall pillars supporting the ceiling and one wall made entirely out of glass, but not like those floor-to-ceiling windows you’d find in a penthouse. The wall had a metallic grid that served as a frame for many windows that were letting a lot of natural light break through the shadow of the room.

I heard the sound of Hugo’s keys hitting the table behind me, but I didn’t turn. Instead, I went close to the window and stood there with my arms folded, looking outside. A lonely jogger was running on the sidewalk with a Walkman hanging from his waste. Apart from him, the riverfront was lonely, bordered by brewers, some functioning, some abandoned, some controlled by the mafia. Those buildings were reminiscent of the industrial New York that created my family and its power.

Hugo came to stand behind me, and for a couple of minutes, we watched in silence while some cars were passing over Queensboro bridge.

“You have a nice view here,” I said, nodding to the city lights that were reflecting in the water.

“It’s alright.”

“This place fits you so well. The sharp edges, the stainless steel; that’s part of you, and I love the way you furnished it.”

“What are you talking about? It’s a mess.”

“It is, but I love it. The massive rosewood desk, the packed bookshelves; you even have a record player. It’s the two sides of you, all in one place. The Albanian Monster and the man that was raised in a house where my grandma played Pavarotti all day long.”

“I’m glad you like it, Cat.” He walked to the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the fridge, cracking it open. “Can I get you anything? Keep in mind, I’m out of Limoncello.”

I laughed at him and started taking down my clothes until I was in the middle of his house, completely naked, licking my lips and waiting for him to notice. When Hugo turned, the beer almost slipped through his fingers.

“How about you fuck me instead?”

“Stop playing with fire, Catherinelle.”

“Fine,” I shrugged and started moving towards one of the pillars, gluing my back to it. “If you don’t want to take care of me, I will take care of myself.”

I opened my legs wider and raised one arm above my head to clutch the pillar. My back arched, and I let my other hand slide down the curves of my body and reach my helplessly wet pussy. My lips were swollen, and I felt a painful need inside of me. Hugo’s eyes were plastered to the place where my fingers were exploring my flesh.

“Ah, this is good,” I moaned and closed my eyes while exploring my body further. I was so turned on and ready for him, my hand slipped over my clit with no problem, and I circled my entrance, taunting my senses. It was good, but he could make it so much better.

He cracked, and I heard his belt buckle belt being undone. I couldn’t help but smile. I was about to ride my Monster’s dick for the first time in days. When I opened my eyes, he was caging me to his body.

“Put one leg around my hips.” His voice was guttural and low, more like a dangerous warning than a suggestion. When I did as he told me, I felt his member hanging heavy between his legs, ready to take over me. “I thought you wanted sweet love making, Cat, hours of foreplay and rolling in the sheets. Doesn’t every girl want that from her boyfriend?”

I bit my lip to stop myself from laughing. Boyfriend – even hearing it from him it sounded ridiculous. No one should dare call this mountain of a man, this god walking among humans, a boyfriend.

“You are not my boyfriend, Hugo.”

“No?”

“No.” I kissed him slowly, sucking in his taste. “You’re my man. I don’t want sweet and slow. I want you to fuck me to the point where I can’t walk. Hurt me if you must, but give me what I need.”

“Fuck!”

With one arm, he hooked my leg and picked me up off the ground. His free hand entwined with mine above my head, and without any delay, he slipped his cock inside of me.

“Yes, baby,” I whispered in his ear and bit his shoulder.

A sense of completeness washed over me while he pushed inside me, and the silver balls dragged inside my body, exciting every single nerve. My knees started shaking immediately, like he had found a switch for my pleasure and turned it on.

“Catherinelle, I’m gonna need you to hold onto me.”

I clutched his shoulder and prepared myself for the storm that was ready to descend upon us. Hugo started moving, burying himself up to the balls and hitting the perfect spot every time. I looked up at him to see the change happening – he was an animal; the Monster was unleashed and ready to take its victim.

I was not Catherinelle Nucci anymore. I was simply a woman, and he was simply my man, and we were consuming each other. My nails were so deep into his skin, I knew he’d bleed. I wanted him to have marks to remind him what a force of nature we were. Right then, nothing else mattered, not his duty, not my brother, nothing.

He rammed me so hard, I was scared the contour of my body would remain imprinted on the damn pillar. His hands were gripping me, his mouth was biting my neck and shoulder blade with the hunger of a starving wolf. It was beyond intense; it was catatonic.

“Hugo, yes. Just like that, baby.”

“You like me stretching you, princess? I’m damaging your pussy beyond repair; do you like that?”

“Yes. God, Hugo, I love you.” He thrusted once hard and stopped to look into my eyes.

“Cat, you and your damn mouth. You’re my reason to breathe, princess.”

“I love you. I love you. I love you, but don’t stop.”

He fucked me with a wild rebellion, and the soreness of having him in my body turned into a sharper pain – just like I asked – but that didn’t stop the orgasm from hitting me full force. My skin exploded with sensations I didn’t even know it was humanly possible to feel. It was absolute, heavenly, romantic bliss crushing in waves over me.

Hugo followed me right after, spreading his cum inside me, but we didn’t move for minutes. We sat there catching our breath, both drenched in sweat and still spasming from the universe shaking orgasm. I wasn’t even exaggerating; he made my stars rearrange in the sky.

I was numb to the world in the best possible way, trapped in my bubble of Hugo induced swirl of gratification. I couldn’t speak or move, so I did nothing when he took me to the shower and washed everything away or when he dressed me in my thong and one of his workout shirts that was way too big for me.

“Your shirt is the same size as my dress,” I said from the middle of the bed while he was fixing me a cup of hot cocoa like a good little boy. “Look at it; it reaches my knees.”

“You look beautiful.” He was dead serious, and it made my cheeks go red. “I like seeing you here, baby.”

Peeling my eyes away from him, I started looking for something to distract me from the incredibly attractive man that was making me feel as tempting as Aphrodite. I opened the first drawer of his night stand, and the contents surprised me. Two guns, both loaded, bullets, a knife and a lot of condoms. I took out one box and threw it right at his chest.

“Looks like we’re covered.”

“Yeah.”

Maybe we should’ve started using them.

“And how many women have been here exactly?” He stopped from whatever he was doing and looked up at me. His guilty face was answer enough. “A lot then?”

“It doesn’t matter, Catherinelle.”

I took the cup from him and settled under his arm while looking up to study his features.

“Threesomes too?” No answer. “I know that’s your thing, remember?”

“Was. Was my thing. And the reason why I was chasing two women at the time was that I needed a fucking challenge. Something to keep me distracted while you were turning into a seductress right under my fucking nose.”

“You could have just said something, put us both out of our misery.”

“Not an option.”

“We’re here, aren’t we? Do you miss it? The threesomes, I mean?”

“No, so you can drop it now.”

“Because we could, you know, have one.” This made him turn his face to me, looking annoyed as hell. “I’m sure Ignazio would love to join us. He can keep a secret.”

I leaned in to kiss him, and he smiled at my joke. I had seen Ignazio checking out Hugo’s ass once or twice in the past, but he did that with every handsome man he saw.

“Funny, Cat, but the only ass I’m interested in fucking is yours.”

“Promises, promises. Maybe you should start putting your money where your mouth is, Monster.”

We laughed again, and when I was done drinking the cocoa, he killed the light, and we were submerged in the darkness of the winter night, listening to the cars passing by until I fell asleep to the beat of his heart. It was a dreamless, peaceful sleep until Hugo woke me up sucking on my boobs and making his way back into me. He turned me on my belly, pushed my panties to the side, lifted my ass up and made me cum two more times while he was pinning me to the mattress.

When he headed for the shower for the second time, I was still trying to fill my lungs with air. My head was foggy because of how hard I’d fall for him. It was like he was wearing my heart on his fucking keychain. I fell asleep with a sweet taste on my lips, something like ambrosia – the taste of bliss – and slipped into a sleep with dreams invaded by Hugo. I dreamed of him holding me close to his chest, kissing my hair and whispering sweet nothings into my ear.

When I woke up, I was curled up at his chest, one arm shielding me from the world. I heard his rhythmic breath, and my chest exploded with the purest happiness that hit me harder than a bullet could. I was living my dream.