I frown, what?
Who are you? I don’t even know him anymore.
Our focus goes back to the screen and the two women are now taking turns sucking his dick, he smiles darkly as he watches and then his eyes rise to meet mine. “Did you come when you watched it?”
“No.” I snap. “As if.”
A million times.
“On your fingers or a dildo?”
Arousal begins to sweep through me. “Stop it.”
“Hmm.” His eyes stay glued to the screen. “Tell me, how many fingers does it take now? One like the good old days or do you come harder with a good fisting?” He smiles darkly as if imagining it. “I must say, there is nothing hotter than a woman fucking your whole fist.”
What the hell? Who even says that? I begin to feel a slow heated throb between my legs.
“Stop it, you animal,” I whisper, acting disgusted.
But I’m not, not even close.
He smiles and turns his attention back to the screen; the blond girl is now flicking her tongue over the end of him as his eyes roll back in his head. “That…tongue,” he murmurs, distracted. “Tongues,” he corrects himself.
Asshole.
The thought of him coming in someone else’s mouth triggers me and I begin to lose control. “Stop it,” I snap. “Turn it off.”
“The way she bares her teeth,” he murmurs.
My eyes go to the screen to see him as he tips his head back, his body glistening with oil, two women sucking his cock in unison.
“Turn it off,” I demand. “Turn it off now.”
Emotion overwhelms me at his pleasure in watching this. “Turn it off.” I become unexpectedly emotional and my eyes well.
“No.” He rubs the tips of his fingers over his thumb and smiles as he watches. “I’m quite enjoying myself.” He cups his cock in his suit pants. “It’s making me hard actually, I may have to catch up with the girls tonight for a rematch.”
What?
“Are you trying to hurt me?” I spit.
“If I was trying to hurt you.” His dark eyes hold mine. “I would marry someone else.”
We stare at each other; raw emotion runs between us.
“That’s not fair.”
He pauses as if composing himself. “Fuck off back to France and get married Francesca, I don’t want to see you again. Your vanilla lifestyle is boring to me.”
My heart stops. “What?”
“I’m not interested in what you have to say.”
I stare at him as I battle tears, I had heard that he had changed. I had heard that he was now cold and heartless. But I never imagined…. Oh. Hearing those words out loud hurt more than they should.
“Fine.” I stand still on the spot, waiting for him to say something.
He unzips his fly. “Close the door on your way out.”
My eyes flick to the screen just in time to see him slide into one of the women from behind in a doggy position, the lump in my throat begins to hurt.
“Unless, of course, you want to stay and watch.” He turns up the volume and the sounds of the woman’s moans of pleasure fill the room.
Tears well in my eyes. “You’re a fucking asshole.”
He fake-gasps as his eyes stay glued to the screen, he is now mounting one of the girls, his knees are wide and as he pushes into her the sides of his behind hollow out as his muscles flex. “You know, that is the first time I’ve ever been told that. I’m so upset.” He mocks me as he takes his hard cock into his hands and I want to punch him in the face.
Stop watching those women…you fucking asshole.
Speechless, with my heart hammering hard in my chest. Lost for words, I turn and storm out the door and down the hall and into the elevator, the doors close behind me and once alone I screw up my face in tears. I’m perspiring and completely rattled.
What the hell?
I sob out loud as I try to control my breaking heart.
I picture him in his office right now, jerking off to those girls. Relishing in hurting me.
I wipe my eyes and square my shoulders as I prepare to face my guards and the world. Once at the ground floor, I put my sunglasses on and walk out into the foyer. I give a calm smile and walk out as if nothing is wrong. I get into the back of the car and stare out the window.
And as the car hurls through the traffic, I know that that’s it, I’m done.
I am going to France to get married and I swear on my life, I will never think of Giuliano Ferrara again.
8
Giuliano
I sip my scotch as I stare at my computer screen, it’s eight p.m. and I’m working back late.
I’ve had a shit day, it started with Francesca coming to visit me this morning and went further downhill from there. My phone buzzes and I answer. “Hello.”