“I felt relief that you came and that you enjoyed yourself. But no, that’s not what I felt when I fucked you.”
“What did you feel? What were you thinking.”
He lifted himself, dripping, from the pool and stood steaming and naked above me. Then he reached down and pulled me up beside him. I straightened, cold air making goosebumps rise on my skin, and wrapped my arms around my body.
“It felt like being buried in your tight, wet cunt. And I don’t think I had any coherent thoughts in my head.”
I gasped and the corner of his mouth twitched. He retrieved two towels from the cupboard in the corner and I dried off, my cheeks still pink from what he’d said. As I dressed, I couldn’t keep my eyes from straying to him. There was something incredibly attractive about watching him put his suit back on, his hair still wet from the pool.
“I want to fuck you,” he said, rolling his sleeves up. He hung his jacket over his forearm. “Come with me.”
My heart pounded and my pussy soaked the thin strip of underwear between my thighs as I obeyed. I wanted this and I wanted it rough, the way his voice and his hard eyes promised it would be. A deep, primal part of me wanted him to press me down, bend me over and make me helpless, to tear my clothes from my body and stake his claim.
We paused at the bedroom door and he turned me around to face him. Then his hard body was on mine, pushing me back against the door. His hand fumbled behind me, turning the knob and pushing me into the bedroom. My heart hammered as his fingers skimmed up, pushing beneath my sweater and tearing it over my head. He gave a low groan at the sight of my bra and knelt before me, pulling down my leggings. Teeth grazed my thigh, sinking into the soft flesh, and I jumped.
I arched into him, euphoric with the high of his desire. He gave a quiet growl and released me to shrug out of his vest and unfasten the buttons of his shirt. Then his hands were on me, spinning me to face away as he pinned my arms back against his body. I panted and wetness slid down my thigh as my clit gave a frustrated throb. Despite my earlier orgasms, I was desperate for another.
He pushed me to the window, taking my wrists and planting my hands on the sill. Chilly air radiated from the glass and my nipples tightened. God, I needed this, needed him to fuck me bent over like this. An ache rippled through me and my eyes rolled back as he wound his fist into my hair and pulled my head back. His teeth grazed my throat and in the distance, through the roaring in my ears, I heard him unfasten his pants.
His thick, hard cock pushed into me and I cried out at the mixture of pleasure and pain. My pussy throbbed around him, tensing and drawing him in further, and he swore under his breath. He adjusted himself behind me, pressing me closer to the glass until my breasts just touched the window. The icy cold sent a shock of arousal through my body. He began fucking me, slowly at first, and then with increasing force. With each thrust, my nipples grazed the cold glass and set my body tingling.
Wetness slipped down my thighs and the sounds of our bodies meeting filled the room. He fucked me like this for what felt like forever before his hand snaked around my hips and found my clit. It took two strokes across the sensitive nub before my orgasm hit me and my legs collapsed, my body falling against the window.
He growled and pulled me to his chest, riding me hard through my orgasm. I gasped and cried out at each throb of pleasure and he responded with whispered praise, his mouth pressed beneath my ear.
“Take it in that sweet, little cunt,” he breathed. “Fuck, you feel so good, you’re doing so well.”
He picked me up and carried me to the bed, throwing me unceremoniously onto my back. His body loomed over mine as he slipped between my legs and pushed back into me. A moan escaped my lips and I arched against him, still riding out the aftershocks of my orgasm. Every thrust sent ripples of pleasure through my body as his cock caressed the deepest parts of me.
His length hardened until his strokes were almost painful. He lifted me roughly and flipped me onto my hands and knees, driving his cock so deep it felt like I might split in half. I whimpered, my legs shaking, and bit hard on my lip. My inner walls were so sensitive I wasn’t sure if I could take it for much longer.
Then he pulled from me and hot wetness spattered across the middle of my back. I dropped my head, biting hard on my lip. Why did it turn me on so much to have him spill his cum onto me? He let out a low groan followed by a release of breath and I heard his zipper hiss as he tucked himself back into his pants.
“Fuck,” he murmured.
I slid onto my belly on the bed and listened as he went to the bathroom. Then a warm, wet washcloth slid over my skin, wiping me clean. There was something tender about his hands as he cleaned me up and it stirred warmth in my chest. He was a guarded man, but sometimes when we were together, his shell softened and bits of his humanity shone through.
Chapter Thirteen
Lucien
I stood over the table in the dining room, the floor plan of the house laid out in front of me. Viktor sat on the edge of the table beside me, one hand in his lap and the other holding a cigarette. It was almost the weekend and the Russian godfather had returned from business in Moscow earlier that day. We’d been up for a few hours past midnight, drinking vodka, smoking, and going over the plan for Carlo Romano’s murder.
“So if things go wrong, you want me to drop my men in through the third story window here,” Viktor said, pointing. “And somehow they’re supposed to get all the way over here within minutes? Seems implausible.”
“No, I meant we have them grapple up the western side,” I said, turning the map. “They enter through the western corner, cross only one room as far as I can tell, and they’ll be in the north side.”
“And then?”
“And then Romano and I will be in the study, which is less than thirty paces down the hall,” I said. “Duran will be here. The control room is connected to a back staircase from the kitchen. All Duran has to do is pretend he’s trying to fuck one of the serving girls and they won’t look twice at him disappearing with someone in the stairwell.”
“Does he usually fuck the serving girls?” Viktor asked.
“Before he met his wife, yes. That’s what they’re for. Romano pays girls who are willing to serve drinks and open their legs.” I took a sip of my vodka, not bothering to add that in my younger days, I had utilized the services of these women even more than Duran.
Viktor’s brows rose. “Your godfather pays for whores?”
I nodded.