Chapter 19
Evelyn
The world takes on a dreamlike quality in my post-orgasmic haze. Was that really my reflection in the elevator mirror? I hadn’t recognized the sensual woman who’d stared back at me while she rubbed against a near-stranger’s thigh.
Objectively, I barely know Massimo. The only fact I know about him is that he works with the Camorra. That alone should repulse me despite his physical appeal, but I can’t help craving him.
Because I’ve seen so much more to him. I’m coming to understand the kind of man he is.
Massimo is a protector, a provider. He has a code of honor. And he cares about me deeply, perhaps so much that it should unnerve me.
But no one has ever looked at me like he does. No one has ever treated me so well, like my happiness matters. Not my family and certainly not George.
My full, greedy focus remains centered on Massimo as he quickly leads me through the suite and into his bedroom.
I follow without hesitation, not troubled by even a shred of fear at the prospect of being with him.
He’s ignited a carnal fire inside me, and even though I just experienced the most powerful orgasm of my life, I crave more.
I’m not thinking about escape; I don’t want to put any distance between us. I need his hands on me, his scent enfolding me. I need his intoxicating kiss to consume all my worries so that I can simply revel in his nearness.
He picks me up and immediately tosses me down on the bed, so that I’m sprawled in the center of the mattress. I try to scramble into a more dignified position, but his hand splays on the center of my chest, pinning me with steady pressure over my heart.
“Stay.”
Even his orders don’t bother me now. I’m too caught up in desire to feel any irritation. If obeying his command earns me more pleasure, I won’t try to resist or protest.
He traces the lines of my cheekbones, the curve of my jaw, the shape of my lower lip—memorizing me. His fingertips imprint his heat on me, the touch possessive and reverent.
The tender moment turns suddenly savage when he fists my dress in those big hands.
The silk tears, exposing me the same way he’d stripped his shirt off me at the breakfast table.
This dress probably costs a lot more than that t-shirt, but he doesn’t seem to care about destroying the expensive garment.
He stares at me as though seeing my naked body is the most valuable thing in his world. His shining eyes peer straight into me. Whatever he sees in me, it makes his lips curve in masculine satisfaction.
“Are you still aching for me, Evelyn?” he asks, voice rough with his own suppressed lust.
“Yes.” I nearly moan at the sound of my name in his deep, accented voice.
His nostrils flare like a predator who’s just scented his prey.
“Fuck, I can’t wait to taste you again.”
He positions himself between my thighs, his broad shoulders spreading me wide.
His face is so close to my heated pussy; I feel each of his warm breaths on my desire-slicked skin.
My clit pulses madly, but he doesn’t touch me where I need it most. He studies my most intimate area as though it’s a priceless work of art, a treasure to be coveted.
“What a pretty pussy,” he purrs, the praise vibrating over my swollen folds. “And it’s all mine.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, as though I can hide from the intensity of his lustful gaze. I instinctively try to cover myself, but he pins my wrists to my sides.
Instead of inciting panic, the sense of complete helplessness to resist him only stokes my lust. There’s no room for modesty with Massimo. He won’t allow anything to separate us, not even social decorum. His deviance frees me in a way I’ve never known, and I become a being of pure carnal desire.
“I want to tie you up,” he says, fingers tightening to shackles around my wrists.
“What?” I ask, a hint of fear stirring at the back of my mind. “You don’t have to do that. I’m not going to try to run away.”
He shoots me a crooked grin that makes my heart skip a beat, and my budding fear melts away.
“I know you’re not, farfallina. You’re being very good for me. But I want to bind you. I want you at my mercy, so I can play with you however I desire. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you love every second in my ropes.”
“Oh,” I breathe, shocked by his dirty promises. The filthy things he says are perverse, deviant.
And I’ve never been more turned on.
I’m not entirely na?ve; I know some people enjoy kinky sex, but I’ve never thought I’m one of them. I’ve never thought much of sex at all, really. It’s just something I did in my relationship, a way to keep George happy. I’ve never really understood what all the fuss is about.
Until now. Until Massimo.
The rope winds around my wrists in a slightly rough caress. I don’t resist as he binds me to the bedposts, my arms stretched above my head. I simply watch the smooth, practiced way he handles the rope and the shape of his huge, masculine hands that tie it so deftly.
When my arms are secured, he takes a moment to stare down at me, as though I’m a fascinating creature, something strange and ethereal. Painfully perfect to look upon.
“Look at me while I make you come,” he orders.
He keeps me locked in his gaze as he licks me in a long, lewd lave of his tongue. He groans and begins feasting on me like he’s starving for me. Like he’s a man possessed by the singular need to learn every caress and flick that makes me moan.
I twist against my restraints, and the reminder of my helplessness to resist him only heightens my pleasure. I’ve never been more vulnerable, but I’ve never felt more secure.
The dichotomy goes straight to my head, making me drunk on our connection. I surrender on a shuddering sigh, losing myself in the sweetest ecstasy I’ve ever known.
“Massimo. Massimo. Massimo…” I begin panting his name in a litany, like a prayer.
“That’s it,” he urges, stroking me to a frenzy. “Scream my name, dolcezza.”
He sucks on my clit, and I have no choice but to obey.
His name is ripped from somewhere deep in my chest, a visceral release.
Pleasure explodes through my body, igniting at my core and rushing out in a shockwave to my fingers and toes.
I writhe, completely lost in bliss. His fingers dig into my thighs, pinning me in place as he continues to feast on me.
My clit is so sensitive, the pleasure morphing into pain that’s almost unbearable. I whine and try to wriggle away from his mouth.
Fresh pain blooms on my inner thigh; he’s captured me in another wicked bite. This time, it’s a punishment for trying to evade him.
I cry out, but the pain is over. He kisses the mark and returns his attention to my pussy.
“I’m not finished,” he growls, then settles back between my legs.
I fall out of time, and I’m not sure how long the sweet torment continues. I lose track of my orgasms. When my throat is hoarse from screaming his name, and all I can do is whimper and give him every last drop of my pleasure, he finally relents.
He looms over me, the world a bliss-filled haze around him.
All I can focus on are his stunning eyes and the masculine perfection of his beautiful face.
I hear the sound of his belt unbuckling, and my gaze lowers to his impressive erection.
He fists his thick cock, hissing his own pleasure as he touches himself.
I jerk weakly against my restraints, wanting to touch him the way he touched me.
His palm presses down on my belly, just above my pussy. “Stay still, farfallina. I’m going to mark you.”
His hot cum lashes my breasts, eliciting a warm glow in the center of my chest. My satisfaction is more than just physical; this powerful beast of a man is coming undone for me. He’s taken control of my body, my pleasure. He’s staking his claim over me.
“Mine,” he snarls, lips peeled back from his white teeth in a purely primal expression.
The corners of my eyes sting. No one has ever looked at me like this. No one has ever wanted me so desperately. Like I’m everything to him, and he would do anything to possess me. It should worry me, but I’m too drunk on bliss to feel anxious.
I can see now that even when I was with George, I was alone in my devotion to him.
I’ve been alone for so long.
But Massimo isn’t allowing me to hide from him. He keeps me exactly where he wants me: in his arms, under his protection.