20. Evelyn
The world took on a dreamlike quality in my post-orgasmic haze. Had that really been 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 knew Massimo. The only fact I knew about him was that he worked with the Camorra. That alone should’ve repulsed me despite his physical appeal, but I couldn’t help craving him.
Because I’d seen so much more to him. I was coming to understand the kind of man he was.
Massimo was a protector, a provider. He had a code of honor. And he cared about me deeply, perhaps so much that it should unnerve me.
But no one had ever looked at me like he did. No one had ever treated me so well, like my happiness mattered to them. Not my family, and certainly not George.
My full, greedy focus remained centered on my dark protector as he quickly led me through the suite and into his bedroom. I followed without hesitation, not troubled by even a shred of fear at the prospect of being with him. He’d ignited a carnal fire inside me, and even though I’d just experienced the most powerful orgasm of my life, I craved more.
In that moment, I didn’t think about escape; I didn’t want to put any distance between us. I needed Massimo’s hands on me, his scent enfolding me. I craved for his intoxicating kiss to consume all my worries so that I could simply revel in his nearness.
He picked me up and immediately tossed me down on the bed, so that I was sprawled in the center of the mattress. I tried to scramble into a more dignified position, but his hand splayed on the center of my chest, pinning me with steady pressure over my heart.
“Stay.”
Even his orders didn’t bother me now. I was too caught up in desire to feel any irritation. If obeying his command earned me more pleasure, I wouldn’t try to resist or protest.
He dropped a quick, doting kiss on my forehead before leaving me briefly to cross to the chest of drawers. Unease nipped at me when I saw the rope around his fist, but even that didn’t stir true fear. He’d bound me before, and it hadn’t caused me any pain.
“What’s that for?” I asked. “I’m not trying to run away, Massimo.”
He shot me a crooked grin that made my heart skip a beat. “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 breathed, shocked by his dirty promises. The filthy things he said to me were perverse, deviant.
And I’d never been more turned on.
I wasn’t entirely na?ve; I knew plenty of people enjoyed kinky sex. I’d just never thought I was one of them. I’d never thought much of sex at all, really. It was just something people did for their partner in a relationship, a way to keep men happy. I’d never really understood what all the fuss was about.
Until now. Until Massimo.
The rope wound around my wrists in a slightly rough caress. I didn’t resist as he bound me to the bedposts, my arms stretched above my head. I simply watched him with rapt fascination: the smooth, practiced way he handled the rope and the shape of his huge, masculine hands that tied it so deftly.
When my arms were secured, he took a moment to stare down at me, as though I was an equally fascinating creature, something strange and ethereal. Painfully perfect to look upon.
He traced the lines of my cheekbones, the shape of my jaw, the line of my lower lip—memorizing me. His fingertips imprinted his heat on me with each tender brush, the touch possessive and reverent.
The tender moment turned suddenly savage when he fisted my dress in those big hands. The silk tore, exposing me the same way he’d stripped his shirt off me at the breakfast table. This dress probably cost a lot more than that t-shirt, but he didn’t seem to care about destroying the expensive garment. He stared at me as though seeing my naked body was the most valuable thing in his world. His flame blue eyes seared into my soul, peering straight into the core of who I was. Whatever he saw in me, it made his beautiful lips curve in masculine satisfaction.
“Are you still aching for me, Evelyn?” he asked, voice rough with his own suppressed lust.
“Yes.” I nearly moaned at the sound of my name in his deep, accented voice. That sound alone would’ve made me wet, but my thighs were already slick from arousal. It would’ve embarrassed me, but Massimo’s nostrils flared like a predator who’d just scented his prey.
“Fuck, I can’t wait to taste you again.”
He positioned himself between my thighs, his broad shoulders spreading me wide. His face was so close to my heated sex; I could feel each of his warm breaths on my desire-slicked skin. My clit pulsed madly, but he didn’t touch me where I needed it most. He studied my most intimate area as though it was a priceless work of art, a treasure to be coveted.
“What a pretty pussy,” he purred, the praise vibrating over my swollen folds. “And it’s all mine.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, as though I could hide from the intensity of his lustful gaze. I jerked against the ropes, instinctively trying to cover myself. Instead of inciting panic, the sense of complete helplessness to resist him only stoked my lust. There was no room for modesty with Massimo. He wouldn’t allow anything to separate us, not even social decorum. His deviance freed me in a way I’d never known, and I became a being of pure carnal desire.
“Look at me while I make you come,” he ordered.
My eyes snapped open, immediately finding his molten gaze. He kept me locked in his flame blue stare as he licked my sex in a long, lewd lave of his tongue. He groaned as though I was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted, and he began feasting on me like he was starving for me. Like he was a man possessed by the singular need to learn every caress and flick that made me moan.
“Massimo. Massimo, Massimo…” I began panting his name in a litany, like a prayer. This beautiful man was more than my protector: he was my new god.
“That’s it,” he urged, stroking me to a frenzy. “Scream my name, dolcezza.”
He sucked on my clit, and I had no choice but to obey. His name was ripped from somewhere deep in my chest, a primal, visceral release. Ecstasy exploded through my body, igniting at my core and rushing out in a shockwave to my fingers and toes. I writhed, completely lost in bliss. His fingers dug into my thighs, pinning me in place as he continued to feast on me.
My clit was so sensitive, the pleasure morphing into a keen pain that was almost unbearable. I whined and tried to wriggle away from his mouth.
Fresh pain bloomed on my inner thigh. Massimo had captured me in another wicked bite. This time, it was a punishment for trying to evade him.
I cried out, but the pain was over. He kissed the mark and returned his attention to my pussy.
“I’m not finished,” he growled, then settled back between my legs.
I wasn’t sure how long the sweet torment continued, and I lost track of my orgasms. When my throat was hoarse from screaming his name, and all I could do was whimper and give him every last drop of my pleasure, he finally relented.
He loomed over me, the world a bliss-filled haze around him. All I could focus on were his stunning eyes and the masculine perfection of his beautiful face. I heard the sound of his belt unbuckling, and my gaze lowered to his impressive erection. He fisted his thick cock, hissing his own pleasure as he touched himself.
I jerked weakly against my restraints, wanting to touch him the way he’d touched me.
His palm pressed down on my belly, just above my sex. “Stay still, farfallina. I’m going to mark you.”
His hot cum lashed my breasts, and a different kind of pleasure glowed in the center of my chest. My satisfaction was more than just physical; I’d made this powerful beast of a man come undone. He’d taken control of my body, my pleasure. He’d staked his claim over me, and now, he was marking me as his.
“Mine,” he snarled, lips peeled back from his white teeth in a purely primal expression.
The corners of my eyes stung. No one had ever looked at me like that. No one had ever wanted me so desperately. Like I was everything to him, and he would do anything to possess me. It should alarm me, but I was too drunk on bliss to be scared. I’d been alone for so long, and Massimo wasn’t letting me hide from him. He kept me exactly where he wanted me: in his arms, under his protection.
His mouth crashed down on mine, and he branded my lips with a soul-searing kiss.