Epilogue #2
He lifts the camera and frames a shot with me in the center.
“Touch yourself.”
“What if I want you to touch me?” I issue a breathy challenge, reaching for him.
He glides back a few feet, chuckling darkly as he denies me.
“I’ll touch you soon enough, greedy girl,” he admonishes. “I won’t be finished with you for hours. Make yourself feel good. I want some photos for my own collection.”
My cheeks flush, and his cocky smirk widens to a grin that takes my breath away.
My lips part on a soft gasp of desire, and I tuck my fingers beneath my bikini bottoms. Obeying his command feels so good, and not simply because of the carnal pleasure that pulses through me when I rub my clit.
I find soul-deep satisfaction in surrendering to the man I love.
In this beautiful place, I abandon all sense of decorum or shame. When I give in to Massimo’s control, I don’t have to worry about anything except pleasing him.
And he rewards me with transcendent ecstasy.
“That’s it,” he praises, his voice gruff with his own lust. “I want you to come for me.”
My core contracts with need, and I brace my free hand on the rock behind me, arching my back as I spread my legs wider. I dip two fingers inside my tight sheath and continue to rub my clit with my thumb.
“Massimo…” I moan his name. My own hands are stimulating me, but it’s his will that brings me to the edge of bliss.
“Come, dolcezza.”
His growled order compels my orgasm, and the sound of my ecstasy echoes off the cliffs, filling the cove with erotic music. Heat flashes through my body, contrasting with the cool water that caresses my waist in gentle lapping waves.
“Bellissima.” He rasps the word, as though exerting effort to restrain himself.
Instead of reaching for me to slake his own need, he keeps the camera lens trained on me, capturing every moment of the orgasm that belongs to him.
When my clit becomes overly sensitive, I withdraw my touch. He doesn’t command me to torment myself, so I slide off the ruin and close the small distance between us, wrapping myself around his sculpted body.
“I have another surprise for you,” he murmurs against my lips.
My delighted laugh fills the secluded cove, and his eyes practically glow with awe.
He grasps my hand in his and urges me to swim past the ruin and toward the arched entrance to the cove. The water turns colder as we pass beneath the shadow of the cliff and enter the deeper water of the Mediterranean Sea.
My stomach dips with unease when the temperature drops, but my moment of disquiet is fleeting.
A small yacht waits for us: the sirena, according to the name painted onto the hull in crisp black script.
“Is this for us?” I ask.
Massimo shoots me a heart-melting grin and swims the final few meters to the yacht. “I borrowed it from Enzo for today.”
I follow him, offering a wide, giddy smile in return. I take this as a promising sign of Enzo’s approval. I’ll have to thank him at the first opportunity.
We reach the ladder at the stern, and Massimo helps me climb aboard. As soon as my feet are steady under me, he pulls me in for a swift, almost savage kiss: a promise of what’s to come.
Massimo gives me another orgasm in the shower, but once again, he denies us both the pleasure of making love.
My body burns for him, and I know he attains his own carnal satisfaction through controlling himself as much as he relishes controlling my pleasure.
I trust that whatever he has planned for me will be explosive, and when we finally join together, I will weep with the intensity of my bliss.
He places me on his lap, his hands lingering around my waist, my hips, my thighs. He strokes me through the thin barrier of the gossamer, flowing sage green dress he provided for me. It barely conceals my body, covering my most intimate areas while revealing the shape of my curves.
I know he’d never allow the staff to see me naked, but Massimo likes showing me off; he’s proud to have me in his arms, and his possessiveness mirrors my own for him.
Now, the servers have discreetly left us alone with our meal, no doubt giving us privacy that Massimo has requested.
I wait patiently while he cuts into the prosciutto and melon starter, and honeyed warmth gathers low in my belly as I anticipate his next move.
He lifts a bite of one of my favorite dishes to my lips, and I eagerly open them to accept his offering.
His eyes glint with hunger for me, not the food.
His full focus centers on me, as though I’m the most important thing in his world.
I watch him with rapt fascination, losing myself in my love for this strong, tender man as he cares for me in the way he likes best. He indulges himself in providing for me, and I feel his cock stir with each bite, until his impressive erection is stiff against my ass.
I squirm in his lap, seeking simulation on my desire-slicked pussy. His free hand firms on my hip, and he issues a low, warning growl not to tease him.
I still, melting into his control. He hums his approval and presses a doting kiss to my forehead.
By the time dessert is served, lust torments me. I don’t care about whatever sweet treat he’s planned for me; I want him.
His arrogant smirk is a touch wicked as he denies me, lifting a bite of tiramisu to my lips before teasingly withdrawing the offering.
I shoot him an exaggerated pout.
He chuckles and traces the line of my lips with his other hand.
“Greedy girl. What should I do with you?”
“Make love to me,” I tell him, more of a breathy command than a plea.
He kisses my cheek. “So demanding. I think I should make you wait.”
A frustrated whine slips from me. “Massimo…”
He laughs again, a sound of dark delight. He’s only taken a few sips of limoncello, but his heavy-lidded gaze makes him appear almost drunk on his power over me.
“So, you don’t want to talk about our wedding?” he taunts, tracing the outline of my engagement ring.
I shake my head. I don’t want to talk right now; I want to moan and scream his name.
“I don’t need a wedding,” I say quickly. “I’ll marry you under any circumstances. We can go to a courthouse tomorrow.”
He fixes me with an indulgent smile as he idly touches the diamond necklace that marks me as his.
“You’ll have the most lavish wedding Naples has ever seen,” he counters.
“My woman deserves to be spoiled, and everyone will see that I treat you the way you should be treated. They will know how much I value you.” He tugs at the necklace, pulling me in so that his possessive words rumble against my lips. “You’re mine forever, farfallina.”
“I just want to be your wife,” I confess. “I don’t want to wait to plan a big wedding.”
He chuckles again. “So impatient and so greedy.” I taste sweet lemon on his sensual lips as he declares, “We will celebrate our love, and everyone will see that my beautiful bride belongs to me. You want to be mine, don’t you?”
He says the last with cocky confidence, but I reply with deep sincerity. “I’m yours, Massimo. And you’re mine. I don’t need a ceremony to prove it, but if it’s important to you, I can wait to marry you. How long will it take to plan this wedding?”
“Only a few months, sweet girl. And don’t worry. You already have me, body and soul.”
I press my hand to his heart, the strong, steady beat calming me like nothing else. I relax against his hard chest, breathing in his leather and amber scent, tinged with a hint of sea salt.
“I don’t want any more dessert.” I practically purr the words as I brush a worshipful kiss to his neck. “Please, Massimo. I need you.”
“How can I deny you, dolcezza?”
He braces his corded arms around me and stands, lifting me to his chest as he carries me into the bedroom. The door closes behind us with a sharp snap, a warning to the staff to stay far away.
Massimo promised to make me scream, and he’s about to follow through.
“You’re perfect for me, Evelyn. You make me so happy.”
I bask in the savagery of his kiss, indulging in the pure, passionate connection I share with the man I love.
With every possessive caress, he promises himself to me: my stunning, powerful, dangerous fiancé.
My Massimo.
My dark savior.
My everything.
Thank you for reading TAINTED OBSESSION!
I hope you loved Massimo and Evelyn’s love story.