I’ve always hated doing this. It’s only because I hated it that I became good at it. The better to end it quickly as far as I was concerned. By the time Eddie and I stopped fucking more than two years before the end of our marriage, I was able to deep throat him and have him coming in less than two minutes flat. But Eddie was six inches long and an inch and a half around. Nothing close to Tony.
Just do it and get it over with, screams through the back of my head.
I open my mouth, and he thrusts deep inside as the hand in my hair tightens to the point of pain. Tears sting my eyes. God damn him. Hunger for him, for this, is unleashed inside me. I have no idea where it comes from, but my mouth is watering as much as my weeping aching core. Never in my life have I drooled over anything as I do at the taste of him, the smell of him, the feel of him.
Nine inches isn’t nearly the whole story. He’s so thick the hand I wrap around him doesn’t come close to meeting. Hot, silky, and hard as steel, the taste of him on my tongue causes a twisting and clenching, at my core—a demand for more of him, all of him. Hungry and greedy, I suck deep on the thick head of him as I run my other hand up and down his length.
A groan rumbles through him, and my eyes flick up to meet churning ocean blue pulling me under. Growling, he takes control, thrusting deeper into my hungry mouth. Even though it’s been years since I’ve done this, ingrained habit allows me to open my jaw wide, then breathing deep, through my nose, and it happens, he slips into my throat with such ease and perfection I can barely believe it. I swallow, working my throat around him. The thrill of him deep inside me has me on the verge of coming. Moaning, I cling to his hips as he fucks my throat roughly, fiercely, owning all of me.
His hand tightens in my hair as he moans, and his cock thickens before he comes. He’s so far down my throat I taste nothing as I swallow, only doing so to work around his cock, wanting to add to his pleasure. A curse escapes him. Slowly, he pulls out. A hand wraps around my throat. Using the hand around my throat and in my hair, he pulls me up to him.
My legs won’t hold me. The hand around my throat is gone. Instantly, I miss it until he wraps an arm around my middle, pulling me against him. I sag into his hard, hot body and electricity crashes almost painfully into me. As much as the electricity stings, it’s the only thing moving brain cells around in the haze and fog. How is it I feel like I just had an orgasm too?
“Five hundred dollars.” The words rumble out of him as he uses the hand in my hair to pull my face up to him. “Is a pittance of your value. It’s not nearly enough, piccolina. I am denying your request. You are mine.”
The arm around me tightens to the verge of pain. I welcome it, want more, want his naked body against all of me. My hands fist into the silk of his suit. Even though I want him, I recognize the truth—I’m his. My head is shaking in denial, in fear of what it all means. A whimper escapes me.
His mouth is agonizingly close to mine, his hot breath against my lips, I breathe him in. I fight not to exhale, desperate to keep a part of him inside me. Why isn’t he kissing me is all my mind is screaming. The hand in my hair tightens, I can’t look away from fire blue eyes. “You belong to me. Do you understand me?”
I can only nod; words are too hard to form.
“Say it.” He growls at me.
“I belong to you.” The words escape me in a whisper. I don’t dare deny him. I can’t.
His eyes run over me. What he sees, I don’t know. All I know is he releases me and steps back. The loss of him is so painful I barely take in his words. “Joseph will see you home to pack up your things. I want you in my home, tonight.”
Shock runs through me. His home? Lisa said he didn’t want women in his home. He went to them. A cell phone rings, he frowns as he pulls it out of his pocket.
“Get dressed.” He orders.
When he answers, he speaks Italian as he turns away from me. The words flow from him melodically. I’m not sure why, but the sound of him speaking Italian calms me as I work to get dressed. It annoys me that my hands are shaking as I draw on my underwear. Everything is wrong, so fucking wrong. Nothing that’s happened since I walked through the door makes any sense. Up is down, wrong felt so fucking right. My fingers can’t get the damn bow right, he takes the ends from me, doing it up swiftly.
Catching my chin, he draws my face up to his. “I have to go. I need Joseph with me. I’m going to have Carmine take you home and get your things. He should be here in about ten minutes.” His finger brushes the skin under my chin as if he enjoys touching me. I tremble at his touch, wanting more. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be. Give
