Chapter 20
Mia
I don’t follow where we’re driving to because my attention is once again focused on Santino’s hand on my thigh. My dress rode up when I slide into the car this time, and he pushes the fabric up an inch more so he can rub his fingers against my bare skin.
I’m lulled into a trance, and am disappointed when the drive ends and he leaves me feeling bereft again.
“We’re here,”
he says, the rasp in his voice telling me he’s just as effected as I am.
“And where is here?”
I look out the window, but we seem to just be parked outside of someone’s house.
“Our house,” he says.
I whip my head back around to look at him. “Our house?”
“Yes, our house. I’ve owned it for a few years, and spent a year or so renovating it, but other than that, it’s completely empty.”
“But you have a place,”
I say lamely, which makes him smile.
“Yes, I do. I have a very nice penthouse apartment, but this is different. This is a home for us. Come, let me show you.”
Santino gets out and I keep my eyes trained on his as he rounds the front of the car and opens my door for me. I take his hand and look up at the beautiful brownstone from the sidewalk.
We walk up the steps and I look up and down the block as he fishes his keys from his pocket and opens the door.
An alarm goes off, and he promptly punches a code into the box on the wall beside the door. “A security update was one of the major things I had done. There are cameras covering every inch of the outside, sensors on all the windows, and a panic button hidden in the bedroom in case something happens in the middle of the night that alerts 911.”
“It sounds…”
I search for the right word. “Safe?”
“I always want you to feel safe, even when I’m not around. Especially then. It will give me piece of mind, too, knowing you’re safe.”
I look around the empty living room and immediately see visions of what I’d put in here to make it look homey while working with the natural architecture and features to keep its charm. The floors are hardwood, the fireplace is framed by a vintage French-styled mantel showpiece, and the front window is rounded out and perfect for a seat beneath it. The staircase leading to the second floor is gorgeous with its hardwood paneling up the side, and my jaw drops when Santino leads me down the hall to the kitchen.
“Santino,”
I whisper. “This kitchen is beautiful. It’s a dream, really. Did you pick everything out yourself?”
“I did.”
I smile at him. “You did a good job, Mr. Antonucci. I’m impressed.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Antonucci. This whole house is yours to do with what you’d like. Fill it with everything you want, change whatever you don’t like. I won’t be offended. Trust me.”
He grins. “I want you to be comfortable and feel at home here. My apartment is yours as much as it’s mine, of course, but this will be all ours from the beginning.”
“Santino,”
I breathe his name, stunned by the gesture. “This is a pretty big surprise.” He’s letting me make my own home.
“I suppose.”
“You know, giving me free rein on fully decorating and furnishing a house like this will force me to spend a lot of your money, right?”
I giggle and cover my mouth, loving the look on his face. He looks equally pleased and nervous. “Don’t worry, husband, I won’t bankrupt you.”
“You couldn’t even if you tried, my wife.”
Grabbing my hand, Santino spins me around and pulls me flush against him. “So, you like your surprise?”
“I love it,”
I whisper. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,”
he whispers, my eyes on his lips. “I’ve always wanted to own a brownstone, so I bought this one when the price was right, but I had no reason to live in it by myself. Especially when I could live down the hall from my brothers. But now…”
“Now?”
“Now, all I can picture is coming home to you here.”
“That sounds nice,”
I say softly. “I can picture a lot of things with you in here.”
“You can?”
“Yes. Maybe because tonight has been so incredible, but I think I–”
I cut myself off, seeing his eyes flare with a fierce desire. I almost just told him I was falling in love with him.
“You think you, what?”
he prompts, urging me to continue.
“I think I,”
I repeat, my voice barely above a whisper, afraid to say it out loud. In fact, I can’t say it out loud at all, but I can show him.
I throw my arms around his neck and bring his lips to mine in a crushing kiss that changes everything between us.
I initiated it.
I didn’t beg and he didn’t beg.
I’m kissing him because I wholeheartedly need to. I need to feel his desire like my own and give him something I can’t put into words just yet.
I kiss Santino like I’ll never get another chance, and he gives me everything I already know he feels for me in return. He lets me feel his desire, his need, and his obsession, and I return it with just as much fevered passion.
Santino wraps his arms around my back and his jacket slips from my shoulders and pools at my feet. I run my fingers up the back of his head and mess up his perfect hair the way I envisioned during dinner. I grip thick chunks in my fists and he groans into my mouth. The vibrations travel through me and stoke the fire already blazing through my veins, turning me into a completely savage being who can only think of one thing – more. More of everything.
I scratch at his scalp and he grunts, sliding his hands down to grip my ass. I groan, and he uses the opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth and taste me fully.
I press myself as close as I can to him, but it’s not enough. I need to be closer.
His cock is hard against my stomach, so I try to move against him to tell him I need more, and he grips my ass tighter, making me moan into his mouth and bite down on his lip.
“Farfalla,”
he growls.
Santino slides his hands below my ass and lifts me up and spins me around in a swift motion that has me dizzy. He plops me down on the kitchen island and growls in frustration when he can’t easily spread my legs to step between them because of my dress.
“This dress is so damn tight,”
he chastises, and the animalistic roughness to his voice makes my insides pool between my thighs.
“I didn’t think you’d complain about that,”
I say breathlessly.
“It’s keeping me from my heaven, baby. Come here.”
Santino tosses me over his shoulder like a rag doll and grips the hem of my dress below my knees and lifts it above my ass in a single motion before sitting me back down on the counter.
Holy shit, that was hot.
He spreads my legs apart and steps between them, pulling me forward until my core meets his hard length. “That’s better,”
he praises, and my head falls back with a moan. “Fuck,” he grunts. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Mia. My dream come true.”
Santino’s lips travel the length of my neck up to my jaw, and he kisses his way over to my lips.
“Santino,”
I sigh, slicing my fingers through his hair.
“Where do you want my attention most, Mia? Here?”
He kisses my lips and glides his hot tongue across my bottom lip. I nod yes, but then shake my head no. “Here?” His hands slide up my waist and he cups my breasts through my dress, squeezing my aching mounds. And while it feels incredible, I shake my head no again. “No? Then where, my bride? Where do you need me most?” His hands slide back down my sides, down the length of my outer thighs, and then back to my waist. “Here?” He rolls his hips so I feel his hard length hit me right where I need him most, and moan, nodding my head frantically.
“Yes,”
I breathe, my vision blurry with desire as I look into his dark eyes that are like two bottomless pools of dark chocolate I’d love to dive right into and drink from like a savage.
“You want my fingers or my mouth there, farfalla?”
I shake my head and his eyes turn even darker, if that’s possible. “There’s only one other option, Mia.”
He uses my given name when he’s serious, so I blink to clear my vision, wanting him to see my clear choice.
“Yes, I know.”
I drop my hands to the tops of his shoulders and around to the buttons on his shirt, undoing one. “I want to see you, Santino. I want to see my husband.” His chest rises and falls with heavier labored breaths, and I can feel his heart pounding as I undo another button. “It’s only fair since you’ve seen all of me. Don’t you think?”
Apparently, I’ve rendered him speechless, because he only manages to nod his head.
“And the deep ache I feel inside me won’t be reached by your fingers or your tongue, Santino.”
“Mia,”
he chokes out, my name a desperate plea.
“Just show me my husband first. Let me see what’s mine.”
“I’m yours,”
he says fiercely as I undo another button, like he didn’t believe the statement until I said it. “And if you want to see what’s yours, baby, I’ll happily oblige.”
I continue to unbutton his shirt as he kicks off his shoes, undoes his pants, and steps out of them. I get to the last button and then boldly place my hands inside the parted fabric, flat against his chest. My breath hitches on contact while he hisses.
“Fuck, Mia, just your hands on me like that feels so good.”
I can feel his heart pounding a steady rhythm that aligns with the throbbing of my core. I know he’ll take care of me soon, so this is my time to admire him and give him just a piece of the appreciation he’s shown me.
I rake my nails down his chest and he shivers under my touch, hissing out another short breath that turns into a dark chuckle.
“I didn’t realize you’d have a little sadistic side, farfalla. But that evil little satisfied grin you’re wearing tells me there’s so much to explore with you that you don’t even know is possible yet.”
“Good thing I have you to show me.”
I slide my hands up and over his shoulders, pushing his shirt off.
“I’ll show you anything you desire, Mia. Anything. Whenever you want.”
Leaning forward, I plant a kiss in the center of his chest, the desire to feel his skin on my lips too great to ignore any longer. “I know.”
“Good,”
he says, his voice strained.
I lean back on my hands to admire him. From his disheveled hair, down to his hips between my thighs, and back up. I take in every inch of his solid frame, and when I hold my hands up to touch his forearms, I look into his blazing eyes and wait for his small nod of approval before touching him.
I skim my fingers up both of his arms, feeling his muscles bunch and release as I pass over them. He’s so strong. No wonder he was able to lift me over his shoulder just before like I weighed nothing at all.
I swirl my fingers on top of his shoulders and smile when he twitches as I go down his back as far as I can reach before coming back up and over his shoulders and down his chest and abdomen. His stomach muscles tense and twitch as I skim over them, and I can’t wait to feel them do that against my mouth as I kiss my way around his body.
I rake my nails over his ribcage and down across his hips, loving the tense set to Santino’s jaw. I know it’s taking everything in him to hold back and let me remain in control.
When I run my finger along the waistband of his sexy black boxer briefs, Santino presses his palms onto the marble countertop on either side of me.
“Mia,”
he rasps, “I don’t think I can take you teasing me for much longer. Your hands on me have my cock so fucking hard, I’m having trouble seeing straight, let alone have a clear thought in my head that isn’t me begging you to wrap your delicate hand around my throbbing cock and making me come all over your soft thighs.”
I hook my finger under the elastic waistband and snap it against his taut lower stomach. “You don’t have to beg tonight, Santino,”
I tell him, running my other hand up and down his thick forearm. “I want to touch you so badly. I just want to make sure you enjoy it.”
He presses his forehead to mine. “Trust me when I say that you touching me is enough, baby. Whatever you do. But I’ll guide you if you’d like.”
“Yes. Please.”
“Slide your hand into my boxers, farfalla.”
The deep, gravel tone of his voice has me ready to do whatever he tells me to. I reach into his boxers and grip his cock, loving the hot, hard, and heavy feel of him in my hand. “Yes,” he groans. “Now squeeze a little.” I do as he says and he groans again. “A little harder, baby. Now slide your hand down to my tip. Use the cum that’s already leaking out of me as lubricant.”
I follow his directions as he gives them to me, and with how he reacts to my touch, I feel powerful. I have power over this powerful man. A man who did whatever he needed to in order to make me his, and now that I am, I see how much power I hold over my dear husband.
Feeling confident, I take control and glide my hand up and down his length, squeezing him just a little tighter each time.
“Fuck,”
he grunts. “I’m almost there, Mia. Just–” he chokes, cutting himself off.
“I want to feel you come, Santino. Give me my reward.”
“Fuck,”
he grunts again, and I grin, tilting my face up to capture his lips in a hot, wet kiss, as I pick up the pace and rub my thumb over the tip of his cock on each pass.
“Mia, Mia, Mia,”
he chants.
Santino bites down on my lower lip and then groans long and low into my mouth as hot cum coats my hand.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,”
he says when he catches his breath.
“Far from it,”
I tell him. “But I’m glad you think so.”
Santino slams his lips against mine and demands entrance with his tongue right away, entangling his with mine in a way that’s possessive, claiming, and appreciative all wrapped together.
I wipe my hand against his boxers as I remove it and wrap my arms around his back, pulling him back against me. I rock against him, feeling his cock quickly grow hard against me again.
“Farfalla.”
Santino grips my hips to halt my movements. “Is your pussy throbbing for me? Did making me come turn you on?”
“Yes,”
I hiss, trying to move again, but he grips me harder to keep me still. “Santino,” I whine, “I ache even more now. I need you. I want you. Please.”
“Are you begging me for my cock, farfalla?”
He pulls back to look into my eyes and mine widen when I realize he’s right. “It’s okay, my beautiful bride, I won’t hold it against you, nor will I make you repeat yourself so I can hear how sexy you sound when you’re begging for my cock. I will say that this moment is even more perfect than I envisioned in my head.”
I give him the best withering glare I can muster while in my frantic state, but he just smirks, the cocky bastard.
“I’m not going to give you my cock, farfalla. Not here.”
“Wh-what? Why not?”
I question, nervous I ruined the moment.
“Your first time needs to be special. It needs to be in a bed, with you laid out beautifully and me worshipping every inch of your body until you’re ready for me. Then, I’ll be gentle with you. I’ll let you get used to me and my size and make slow love to you.”
My breath hitches. Make love? “After the first time, though, I can’t guarantee I’ll be gentle again, though, because every time I see you and am near you, I have the inexplicable need to rip your clothes off and fuck you until you’re screaming my name.”
“Santino,”
I whisper, digging my nails into his back.
“Yes, baby, but much, much louder.”
“Then maybe you should take me back to your apartment where you have a very nice, big bed, and you can do all of that.”
Santino kisses me hard and fast, then lifts me off the counter and sets me back on the floor where he pulls my dress down for me and quickly puts his clothes back on.
He takes my hand and walks us out of there, only remembering at the last second to turn the lights off and set the alarm before closing and locking the door behind us.
I almost giggle at the notion that he’s too distracted by me to think straight, but I don’t. I like the idea too much.