Chapter 52 #2
My nostrils flare, and I glare at him.
“Although technically…” He shrugs. “Have you ever sucked him off?”
I shake my head.
“Do you want to?”
I nod.
“And me?”
I nod again, my eyes bouncing between his and his bobbing cock.
He smirks, but it drops so fast my head spins, and my stomach takes a slow, hot tumble.
“Hold yourself open for me.”
Open? I can’t concentrate on what he’s saying. I want his hands on me… to come. His cock is still right there, flexing and glistening, and making me pant.
“Your pussy. Put your right hand on it and use your fingers to hold it open. I want to see how wet you are.” He holds up two fingers and makes a V.
Oh God. Who even says things like that? Heat floods my cheeks.
This is so premeditated .
Exposing in ways more than being displayed on his coffee table.
“Go ahead, sweetheart. Show me what the thought of wrapping your pretty lips around my cock is doing to you.”
It’s awkward holding myself up on one elbow. My hand is shaking as I reach forward. Another jolt goes through me as my fingers connect with my slippery folds, and fresh heat fills my cheeks. I’m so wet it makes it difficult. The look of blazing approval in his eyes has me melting.
He grips the base of his cock, squeezing it, pointing it straight up. It’s a deep purple-red and glistening. All I can think about is how good it feels inside me and how desperately I want to experience that again.
“You look slick, Carmela. Your little pussy hole is all wet and ready for me, isn’t it baby?”
Oh God, please.
“I made Christian a promise. I can’t break it now, can I?”
He rises and leans over me, planting his hand on the coffee table.
My blood temperature goes through the roof.
“Ah, the things I want to do to you, Carmela. You’d be terrified if you could glimpse inside my mind at even half of them. Now, stay very still, sweetheart. Looking at your filthy little fuck hole, all pink and wet, has gotten me primed. This won’t take long.”
He spits into his palm and, fisting his cock, begins to jack up and down.
Butterflies invade my stomach. My pussy clenches so savagely that I feel slick arousal trickle out.
“Look at you, all spread out for me. Such a filthy girl. So perfect. So desperate for dick. You want it, don’t you?”
I nod. My head is full of white noise, my eyes glued to his cock so close to where I need it. Christian fucked me when Dante wasn’t there. Why would he even make this stupid rule? Why would Dante care about it?
The head of his cock brushes against my clit as he pumps. I’m trembling with the strain of holding up on one elbow while holding myself open.
“Ah, ah, don’t move, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want me to accidently fuck my dick into you.” He slides the head right next to my entrance, taunting me—taunting us both.
My breathing is labored—so is his. He’s so close, his hips moving slightly so that he slides against me as he jacks. When I glance up, I find his face is a stark mask of pleasure and agony.
“Eyes down, Carmela. I want you to watch me come.”
My eyes slam down.
He growls low in his chest and a hot splash of his cum paints my pussy.
“Ah, fuck. Fuck!” He continues to jack his cock, more cum painting my pussy, fingers and lower belly as I lay there trembling violently.
Primitive.
Like he is marking me as his.
I can’t get enough air…
He must take pity on me because he tugs the panties from between my lips and drops them on the table. He pushes his fingers straight into my mouth.
I gag.
Arousal, so fierce it makes my head spin, slams into me.
“Good girl.”
I blink furiously, my body is on fire, aware of how his fingers fill my mouth, how it makes saliva pool.
He bestows me a lazy smirk, withdraws his fingers, and drops back into the seat.
His cell rings.
Really? Right now.
He holds up a hand when I go to move and shakes his head in warning. “Don’t you dare fucking move.”
The hell?
He answers a call. “Yes?”
His cock is laying against his belly, leaking cum. I’m smothered in so much of it that it’s dripping onto the table beneath me. My nipples are hard and my breasts ache for his touch. My pussy feels swollen inside and out, and my clit is throbbing.
Being left here to stew in my desperation, rather than cooling my ardor, makes it worse.
How does that even work?
“Yeah, I know. It was a stupid fucking idea,” he mutters. “What did they say?”
He leans forward, making me jump when his fingers slide through the mess.
My chest heaves. His eyes locked on mine. He slowly pushes two fingers inside me.
My legs want to snap closed and trap his hand there. I’m shaking with the strain of not moving, because if I move, he might stop. He pulls out slowly, then brushes his fingertips over my clit before pushing them back into me again.
This time, he leaves them there, letting me pulse and flutter around them.
I wish I still had my panties in my mouth because holding my moans inside represents an epic challenge.
“Not a priority right now.”
He pulls out slowly. Panting, I shake my head frantically. Expression implacable, he collects his cum and proceeds to paint it around my right nipple. With his eyes locked on mine, he rubs it over my nipple and then squeezes it between his fingers and thumb, taking his time working it in.
I’m—losing—my—mind.
He leans back into the couch. “There’s not much more we can do today… I definitely need some sleep.”
Asshole.
He smirks. His cock is starting to kick against his belly again, getting hard. He strokes himself absently, like I’m not lying here losing my mind.
Enough is enough. My head drops back against the coffee table.
He chuckles.
I’m sure he’s chuckling at me.
“Yeah. I’m fine. Okay, later.”
The cell phone clatters against the table next to me. “You okay, baby?”
Damn him, I can hear the amusement in his voice.
“Fuck off unless you are going to fuck me.”
“I was going to offer to get you off, but if you’d prefer I didn’t…”
I growl and shove my fingers inside myself with a groan.
He catches my wrist pulling them straight back out. “That was very naughty, baby. You don’t get to come unless I say.”
I glare up at him. “That’s not a Christian rule,” I scoff.
He hauls me up to a sitting position and drops my T-shirt over my head, smothering me.
I splutter a protest.
He pulls it down over my head, but now I can’t see for my hair.
“You’re right. It’s a Dante rule.”
He’s dressing me, putting one arm then the other into sleeve holes.
“Do you want water?”
“No. I want to come.”
He cups my cheek and presses a kiss to my forehead. “Poor baby.”
He fumbles to close his fly, then lifts me into his arms and carries me into the bedroom… his bedroom.
“I’m not joking about needing to come.”
He’s still grinning. “I know you’re not. I can feel your rage.”
He drops me into bed.
“I’m sticky!”
“And I couldn’t give a fuck.” He begins stripping efficiently. “Wash it off and there will be trouble.”
He climbs into the bed behind me and hauls me close.
“Dante?” I sound whiny.
“Go to sleep, baby.”
“You can’t leave me like this.”
“I have, so that answers that.”
My mood cools as my mind skips back to what he said about Christian.
“Are you really worried about Christian?”
He sighs heavily. “Yes, I am. Ettore got hold of some security footage from across the street from your father’s home. I haven’t seen it yet, so I don’t know if it’s incriminating. He checks in with Mateo, the head of our security several times a day, and nothing indicates he might be compromised.”
He’s still worried, though. I can hear it in his voice.
“Can he leave Ettore?”
“No. Not easily, and especially not so soon after you’ve disappeared.”
“I don’t like it.”
“Me neither. But we planned for this, and we’ve no choice now but to let it run its course.”