43. Ariana
43
ARIANA
Everything hits different tonight. The way he guides me to his room and leads me inside. Nothing is strange and new like last night, and there’s comfort in everything he does.
He steers me to the bathroom where he gives me the privacy I don’t crave anymore. I want him to watch me undress. I want him to step with me into the shower. I want to feel his hands on me, soaping me up, massaging, slowly, tenderly until he drops to his knees and kisses me down there where this flight of fancy has taken my mind and where a nagging need has been filling up to bursting point.
Usually, I ignore this feeling, fighting it all the way as I force myself to be consumed by work, but now, I’m wrung tight, every sensual nerve I have poised to receive his touch, with nothing else to distract me. And this is a man in the fucking Mafia.
And not just any Mafia. By the status belonging to this mansion, the most powerful Borgata this side of the States.
And not just any man, either. One who wears scars similar to my own, whose story is an echo of mine.
I’m not sure how it happened, but he’s corrupted me. I’ve fallen into trust with Dominic. With the last type of man I ever thought I could trust. With him, I’ll let go of my fear, because he understands my pain. He’ll take his time. He’ll only go where I allow him in.
It’s his words. His vows. They make me burn to feel his hands on me, to submit my body to his expert touch, to offer myself to him in some primal and carnal lust I never knew existed, because I’ll be safe all the way.
As I soap up in the shower, I let my fingers stray, slip between my thighs, and find the nagging little nub that’s the bane of my whole existence right now. I lean away from the spray, my back against the marbled wall, sinking into this need he’s provoked in me, basking in it as the steam builds and envelopes me. My breathing becomes strained as I find the exact rhythm that should get me to release, but it’s as if I need more.
Dominic pulled the door closed as he left me standing in the middle of this bathroom, but it didn’t latch. The idea of him being on the other side of that thin stripe of light, listening to me, his heart pulsing in his cock as it pulses in my clit, drives my movements. As the water sluices down my skin, I close my eyes, arching my back into the wall, needing more. Needing him.
I’m slow to register the change in the room as the door swings wider slowly, dissipating the steam as it shifts and opens like gaps in the clouds. I feel his gaze on me before I open my eyes, in a gridlock of shame and need and lust I have no control over. He’s stripping his shirt as he watches me, slow to slide his gaze down to where my hand is working between my legs, the other one on a breast, teasing a hardened nipple.
I pause, wanting to shy away from everything, but my heart seems to be pulsing in every part of my body as my orgasm pulls away. I’ve been waiting, wanting…needing to sin with this man, and nothing is going to make me stop him from stepping into the shower. I don’t care how this all started anymore—all I need is a diversion for tonight.
Truth be told… I need him .
His eyes are glazed with desire as I rake him down with my own, from the strained tendons in his neck as he keeps himself in check, biting down on his jaw, lower to his muscled shoulders and pecs, tattooed with images I haven’t deciphered yet, then to his six-pack that etches out with the force of his control, to his cock he’s fisting…his giant cock that has no place in my body. Not this size, not such force of masculine power that can rip through me and make me bleed for days.
But it’s only a glimpse of a thought, a cold draft sweeping through me on which I close the door decisively, making it only a vague memory of something wrong this man said he’ll erase until there’s only a shadow left of that night. And instead of going where I always go in my head when it comes to this, my thoughts succumb to the control he has over himself as he places one hand against the wall by my head, not touching me, but protecting me from the shower’s spray as it comes down on his broad back.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” he murmurs as he leans into my ear, his chest heaving with the deep breaths he drags in. “I couldn’t stay away. Fuck . You’re consuming me.”
His movements have slowed down, languid pulls to his cock that seem to match my haggard breathing. I’m weak in the knees at having him here, watching me, consuming me. At the same time, that pulse is hammering in my clit, demanding attention. His eyes dip to my lips, and I lick them nervously, biting down as I battle the urge to push my body into his.
Sin. This is pure, unforgivable sin. And in this moment, I don’t care. Ask me to coast to Hell on the broken wings of a fallen angel, and I’ll plunge willingly.
He is so close, I can see each individual eyelash framing his eyes, but we’re not touching, his body only radiating heat that seems to cover me in a blanket of love and acceptance.
“Are you going to watch me as I watch you, sweetheart?” he whispers, his breath ghosting over my skin, making my nipples harden even more.
I blink at him as desire flushes through me, the need to look down at where he is fisting his cock, knowing I’m helpless at resisting this. It’s only the one percent chance he could be related to me that holds me back from pushing my body to his.
“Are you going to come for me as I’m going to come for you, sweetheart?” he murmurs then, leaning an inch closer and letting the tip of his nose nuzzle my ear.
“God, Dominic, please…” I moan, his words bringing me right back to the edge I’ve stepped away from.
“Look down, sweetheart. See what you do to me,” he says then as he leans back, and I look at our wet bodies, my gaze following the line between his pecs, lower to his abs and then to his cock where it reaches beyond his navel.
The tip glistens with pre-cum, and the veins on his hand bulge as he jerks up and down, so rough with his own flesh, so open in his own need. He is all hard tattooed muscles, his skin this Mediterranean hue I’ve skipped completely, almost deathly pale against his complexion with a body that hadn’t seen proper sun for weeks. I drop my hand to my hip, exposing both my breasts to him, my pert nipples hard and begging.
“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he says as he widens the gap between our bodies to see all of me, the tension between us climbing to the point of no return as his movements become so fast and fluid, they blur with my own frantic circling of my clit. “Let go, sweetheart,” he demands then. “Just let go and come for me.”
At his words, my orgasm crashes through me with such force, I cry out, fisting my free hand to my mouth to stop myself from calling out his name in desperation.
“Fuck, Ariana,” he groans, then hisses as he comes, angling himself at the last second to shoot his release onto the wall beside me.
His body trembles as it comes down its high, his shoulder muscles and biceps straining as he keeps the arm’s length between us, his gaze hooked into mine. I’m dazed by his erotic pull, by the intensity of what we’ve done, with the sweet unknotting of my own release. I want to slide to the floor, feeling weak as I pull my hand away from my sex, slick with my spent desire.
“I want to fucking lick that off you so bad,” Dominic says as he pushes off the wall, opening the space between us.
The warm water sprays onto my body again, bringing me back to reality and what we’ve done.
“I want you to, but this…this already crossed a line.” The words tumble out of me on a ragged breath.
“For all we know, there’s no line in the first place. And if you think this is a sin… I’m not even sure where sin starts and where it ends anymore.”
He reaches for the soap and washes himself as I just stand there, at leisure to take in every inch of his body. And it is magnificent. Strong and virile, with his cock still jutting out. He’s perfection.
I want to touch him so badly, but everything I discovered in his mom’s journal today is holding me back.
“Keep on looking at me like that, sweetheart—” he murmurs as he rinses off the suds, “—and we’ll do all of that again.”
“We’ll go straight to Hell,” I say, as if I haven’t been there already.
“All I know is that sin has never felt this good.” He smiles at me as he opens the shower door. “And it would be fun burning together.”