Chapter 5
Dario
I’ve been watched before. Exhibitionism has always turned me on, especially when there’s more to it and the endgame is a rocking orgasm.
My body recognizes this so well that when I’m being watched, I feel a ripple effect inside me—like walking on ice, the thrill of doing something so magnetic.
That’s why, when Vittoria is dragged into my home office, my body fires up immediately.
It strikes me how much I’ve been thinking about her, how I’ve been trying to memorize the fine lines of her face.
Damn, she has a body that leaves a man wanting nothing else.
Today, she’s wearing shorts and a t-shirt—ones I know she borrowed from Dannika.
I know this because I personally asked Dannika for them, just until my assistant finds more suitable provisions for this feisty woman.
Standing at the edge of my desk, I watch her.
“I don’t know how you can do this,” she says, dropping her hands to her sides and flattening them against her creamy skin.
My eyes follow her movements, imprinting the sight of her naked flesh in my mind.
She meets my eyes, and it feels like I’ve been struck at point-blank range by something sharp—both fatal and beautiful.
“I can’t help you out. My husband never tried to rope me into his business.”
“I hate when you say that.” My eyes snap back to her face, finding her lips slightly parted.
“Hate when I say what?” She sounds genuinely surprised and confused.
“Talking about your fucking husband as if he’s the only reason I brought you here.
” I don’t intend for my voice to come out harsh, but it does.
She doesn’t know my plans or my intentions.
Yet all she seems to think about is how he’s somehow the reason for this, as if she isn’t an incredibly beautiful woman any man would kill for or kidnap.
She doesn’t see that she is so much more than just being his wife or a target for his enemies, and that fucking annoys me.
She rolls her eyes. “Isn’t that what all this is about? You took me because of him, right?”
I run a hand through my hair and turn away from her, walking to the small table in the room where I keep a selection of the finest wines and alcohol on this side of the country.
What can I say? I choose my poison with style.
I pour a glass of the half-empty bottle of whiskey and gulp it down quietly.
I hear her groan from behind me, but I don’t turn around to look at her or offer her a drink.
“Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t. I guess we’ll never know.” I hear her breath hitch as it dawns on her that I’m repeating the words she said to me in the park. “I’m suddenly feeling hot. Aren’t you?”
“What?”
I don’t reply. Instead, I down my glass and drop it on the table and begin to take off my shirt with my back to her.
I had just been about to shower when she was brought in; I wanted to ask her some questions about her husband, but she clearly isn’t ready to talk.
Plus, looking at her all day since she walked in has done nothing but mess with my mind.
All I want to do is talk to the damn woman, but I can’t stop imagining what it would feel like to wrap my hands around her, to rip her clothes off and remind my dick what it feels like to sink inside a woman.
I want my fingers between her legs, hearing her moans in my ear as I plunge so deep that nothing is left of my dick outside.
God, I want to bend her over and twist that idiotic, beautiful hair around my fist while she screams for me, forcing her to say my name—only my name—until she forgets how to say anything else.
Jesus fucking Christ. If she weren’t here right now, I’d finish myself off.
Wait a minute.
What’s stopping me?
I already have my shirt off, so it doesn’t take much for me to reach for my belt and zipper and remove them. She can wait in here while I do my business. It’s not like she has anywhere better to be. I push my pants down, leaving behind my briefs.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she asks, her tone almost angry.
“About to hop into the shower, clearly.”
“Then why did you bring me in here? I’m not going to sleep with you if that’s part of your twisted plans.”
“Oh, come on now. Who says anything about sleeping with me? I was just suddenly craving some steam. You’re welcome to join if you like.”
When I turn back to her, she doesn’t look directly at my face like she was before.
Her eyes are glued to my chest, to the inked tattoos covering the length of my body.
I notice the way she swallows when her eyes travel lower, finally landing on my cock.
Her eyes widen as she realizes how hard I am. Yes, this woman has that power over me.
Since the moment I saw her that night and caught a whiff of her scent, she has been imprinted on my mind and my fucking soul.
I tell myself she’s just a means to an end, but the truth I’ve been unwilling to admit is that she is making me feel things I hadn’t expected—want things.
And by God, I plan to take those things.
“You can stop ogling me now, Vittoria,” I say, moving in front of her.
She sneers, dragging her face away from my chest to the side of the room. “I wasn’t ogling you.”
I take off my briefs, standing naked before her.
“Please don’t do this. Put your clothes back on right now. I have a husband.”
I step closer and raise my voice an octave. “This is my house. I can do what I want, whenever I want. If I want to stand naked all day and parade around with my balls and cock on display, that’s my business.”
She laughs and takes a step back. “God, you act like such a child. Is this how desperate you get to make women sleep with you? Pathetic.”
I don’t know if her condescending words are a trigger, but my dick twitches in response, and we both catch sight of it. I smile when I see her reaction, but she pretends to look everywhere else but at me.
My skin prickles with goosebumps at the thought of her hands on me, heat rushing up my spine and making my dick twitch again. After a longer moment of our eyes clashing, she swallows and begins backing toward the door.
“I should give you some privacy…”
Her voice is weak. Like she’s trying to convince herself more than me.
But her eyes betray her.
They drop to my chest, then lower—to where I’m already thick and straining, throbbing like I can feel her stare on me. Her lips part slightly, and her breath catches.
I see the moment it happens—the second she realizes just how badly she wants this.
Color floods her cheeks, creeping down her neck as her hands twitch at her sides. She lets out a soft, shuddering breath. Not defiance. Not resistance. Something closer to surrender. I see it. Feel it.
She keeps moving back, like distance might fix this.
"Take another step back," I murmur, my voice dark with warning, "and I swear to God, I’ll make you get on your knees and suck my dick until I come."
She stops. Her whole body stills, but her chest rises harder, sharper. For a second, I think she’s going to snap—spit something at me and run. But she doesn’t. Her lips part, her throat bobs as she swallows hard.
“Please, Dario…” she whispers. “Don’t make me do this.”
She says it like she’s begging for mercy. But mercy from what? Me? Herself? The months—years—of frustration with a husband that probably only ever took without giving?
Hearing my name on her lips for the first time is torture.
I haven’t felt like this in years—this insane, soul-consuming rush to have someone just from the mere sight of them.
My dick hasn’t felt like fucking steel before I actually touched someone.
I haven’t participated in anything sexual for so long and actually enjoyed it—or been turned on by the thought of someone's taste and sound.
I’ve fucked women. A lot of women. I’ve never claimed to be a saint when it comes to sex, nor am I a gentleman who offers sentiments and roses.
I’m a product of being used and abused, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
It’s my life now; I just need to live it.
So fucking sue me if the first woman to make me feel addicted to the feeling of totally unraveling is right here, just out of reach, and I want her.
Sue me for knowing she belongs to another man, but I don’t give two fucks. It feels right, and it fucking annoys me that it does. I’ll suffer the consequences later when this all blows up and I find myself unable to stay away from her.
Just having her eyes on me has my chest pounding.
It’s different here with her. We aren’t touching, and until today, I haven’t felt this way around her before.
Yes, I’ve wondered what it would be like to fuck her, but today, I’m not only thinking of fucking her.
I’m only thinking of her eyes and how beautiful she looks watching me. How hard I want to come in her mouth.
Slowly, my hands drop to the head of my cock, massaging the precum glistening at the top. I think I hear her sigh or gasp. Either way, the intimacy of this moment has me aching in more ways than one.
But it’s not just me.
It’s her, too.
She wouldn’t be here, frozen in place, breathing like she’s trying to hold herself together, if she didn’t want this just as much as I do.
Fuck, I want to watch her break.
And she’s still standing there. Still breathing hard. Still staring at me like she’s already lost whatever fight she was waging in her head.
I close the distance between us, measured, unhurried. “Then walk away.”
She doesn’t.
Because she doesn’t want to.
She’s just afraid of what it means if she gives in.
“Watch me touch myself, Vittoria.”
She shakes her head, her eyes momentarily dropping to the floor, but soon they return to my hands wrapped around my cock.
“Hh…how could I possibly do…please just let me go.”
She takes a couple of steps back, her back reaching the door as she grasps the handle without turning.
“Turn that knob, Vittoria, and I swear I’ll fuck your throat so hard you’ll pass out.”
I run my hands up and down my shaft, slowly at first, taking my time, then faster as the sensations begin to hit.
“Dario… please…” she whimpers.
“Fuck—I can see it in your eyes. You want a taste of this, don’t you? You want me to come in your mouth?”
“I…”
“Fucking answer me.”
Her back lurches further against the door, frantically trying to see if she can somehow permeate through it. “I… that’s not what I want.”
“Tell me what you want, then.” This feels so damn good. When she doesn’t say anything else, I stroke faster, panting and groaning. My grip is rough and violent. I’m so close to her now.
“I love you watching me touch myself, Vittoria. I know you want to do much more than watch, don’t you, princess?”
She remains standing, her eyes glued to my hands working my cock.
“Get. On. Your. Knees.”
She doesn’t move at first. Her breath is uneven, her hands twitch at her sides. But she wants this—I can see it in the way her chest rises too fast, in the way her thighs press together like she’s trying to steady herself against something inevitable.
“Vittoria.” My voice is rough, coaxing. “You need me? Show me.”
A shaky breath leaves her lips. Then, finally, she sinks to her knees, her body folding in front of me like it’s the only place she belongs.
I watch her, knowing I should pace myself, knowing I should draw this out—but the way she looks up at me, her dark, drowning eyes filled with hunger, shreds the last of my control. My strokes turn rough, desperate.
She’s close to tears, but she doesn’t look away. Her lips part, her breathing stutters. Through the thin fabric of her shirt, I see the tight peaks of her nipples, proof that my pleasure reaches deep inside her, pulling her under right along with me..
“God girl,” I groan, knowing what’s about to happen and welcoming it wholeheartedly. “Now open that pretty mouth for me.”
I half-expect her to argue, but she doesn’t. Instead, she opens her mouth, and I plunge halfway in, spilling my load on her tongue. I don’t stop stroking until I give her everything I have.
Basking in the pleasure of my orgasm, my entire body shudders and trembles. “Oh God, Vittoria, what are you doing to me? I can’t stop coming.” I put a hand on the wall for support.
I watch her swallow, and just like the little minx I know she is, she closes her beautiful puckered lips around my dick and sucks gently, emptying my balls completely until I have to physically pry her head off.
The little she-devil moans before getting to her feet and wiping her lips with the back of her hand. I reach out and grab her hand, pulling her flush against me and holding her close.
“I’ve never had an orgasm that intense in my entire life, Vittoria. You’re amazing.”
“But I am married.” There’s an anger in her voice, one I hear even without trying.
But like the asshole I’ve always been, I ignore it.
“That ceased to be important to me the minute you walked through my front door,” I say.
“I’m going to make you do things you never thought you could do.
I’m going to taste your pussy, finger you, and make you come on my tongue.
I’m going to fuck you until you can’t take it anymore, and you will make your body available for me when I want, how I want, and for as long as I want.
You’ll move when I say, talk when I say, and enjoy the pleasure I’m going to give you without complaint like my dirty little whore. ”
She swallows loudly and doesn’t say anything. In her silence, I find my answer: she definitely wants this too.