Chapter 10 Sandro #2
"I'll know it when it happens." I returned it to its slot and pulled out something more reasonable. A 2010 Sassicaia. "This one we can actually drink. Come on."
Back upstairs, I poured us both glasses and led him to the living room. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the grounds. Comfortable furniture that cost more than it should but was actually pleasant to sit on. I'd designed this room for seduction—intimate without being obvious about it.
Emilio settled onto the couch and I sat beside him. Close. Our thighs touching. The kind of proximity that made intentions clear.
"Tell me about your marriage," I said. "Really tell me. Not the sanitized version."
He looked at me over his wine glass. "Why?"
"Because I want to understand you. What shaped you. What broke you. What made you the man sitting here with me now instead of the man you were a month ago."
He was quiet for so long I thought he might not answer. Then: "I married Marco because I thought I was supposed to. He was smart, ambitious, came from a good family. Everything looked perfect on paper."
"But?"
"But we were never really partners. I was always the supporting role in his story.
His career came first. His needs. His priorities.
I convinced myself that was normal. That marriage meant sacrificing what you wanted for what the other person needed.
" He drank deeply. "Then I found out he'd been fucking his paralegal for six months.
Suddenly all that sacrifice seemed really fucking stupid. "
"Hence the immediate filing for divorce."
"Hence the immediate filing." He smiled bitterly. "Everyone told me to try counseling. To work it out. Like his repeated infidelity was something we could talk through. I was done talking. Done being second priority. Done pretending I was happy."
"Good. You deserved better than that." I set down my wine and took his glass, placing it beside mine. "You deserve someone who sees you as the priority. Who values your brilliance. Who wants you exactly as you are instead of trying to shape you into something more convenient."
"And you're that someone?" Skepticism colored his voice.
"I'm that someone. Yes." I pulled him into my lap so he was straddling me.
Watched his pupils dilate. "I see you, Emilio.
All of you. The brilliant attorney. The ethical man struggling with compromises.
The person who wants to be valued for who he is instead of what he can provide. I see all of it and I want all of it."
"You want to corrupt me. That's different from valuing me."
"I want to free you from the constraints you've built around yourself. Help you become who you're meant to be instead of who you think you should be." I traced his jaw. "If that's corruption, then yes. I'm corrupting you deliberately and enjoying every moment of it."
He kissed me instead of arguing. Hard and demanding, taking instead of asking. I let him control it for maybe thirty seconds before I took over. Gripped his hips and ground him down against me, letting him feel exactly how much I wanted him.
We made out like teenagers. Desperate and messy. His hands everywhere, trying to get under my shirt. My hands in his hair, on his ass, pulling him closer. When we finally broke apart we were both breathing hard.
"Bedroom," I managed. "Now. Before I fuck you on this couch."
"Would that be so bad?"
"Yes. Because the first time tonight I want you in my bed. The second time can be wherever we end up." I stood with him still wrapped around me. His legs locked around my waist automatically. "Hold on."
I carried him upstairs to the master suite. Laid him out on the bed like an offering and stepped back to look at him. Flushed and aroused and beautiful in his surrender.
"Strip," I ordered. "Slowly. I want to watch."
He obeyed. Pulled off his sweater to reveal the lean muscle beneath. Unfastened his jeans with deliberate slowness, maintaining eye contact the whole time. Slid them down his legs along with his underwear until he was completely naked on my bed.
Perfect.
I stripped more efficiently. No performance, just necessity. When I climbed onto the bed he reached for me immediately, pulling me down into another kiss.
I took my time with him this time. Last time had been frantic, desperate, driven by pent-up desire. Tonight I wanted to savor it. Wanted to learn every sound he made, every place that made him gasp, exactly how to take him apart piece by piece.
I worked my way down his body with lips and teeth and tongue. Found the spot on his ribs that made him squirm. The place on his hip bone that made him arch. The inside of his thigh that made him curse.
When I took his cock in my mouth, he threaded his fingers through my hair. Not pushing, just holding. Anchoring himself while I sucked him slowly, thoroughly, with all the skill I'd acquired over years of practice.
"Sandro—fuck—you don't have to—" He tried to warn me he was close.
I took him deeper and hummed around him. Felt him tense and then shatter, coming down my throat while he gasped my name like a prayer.
I released him and kissed my way back up his body. He was boneless and dazed, looking at me like I'd performed a miracle instead of basic fellatio.
I reached for the lube and condoms. "Roll over. Let me see you."
He did. Presented himself beautifully, all lean muscle and trust despite knowing exactly what I was planning to do to him.
I took my time opening him up. One finger, then two, then three. Watched him push back against my hand, seeking more. Listened to the desperate sounds he made when I found his prostate and stroked it deliberately.
"Please," he finally gasped. "Sandro, please, I need—"
"Tell me what you need." I removed my fingers despite his protest. "Say it clearly."
"You. Inside me. Fuck me. Please." The please was barely audible, strangled by need.
I rolled on the condom and slicked myself up. Pressed against him slowly, letting him feel every inch as I pushed in. He was tight and hot and absolutely perfect.
When I was fully seated, I paused. Let him adjust. Kissed his shoulder blade. "Okay?"
"More than okay. Move. Please move."
I did. Started slow, building rhythm gradually. Let him get used to the feeling before I picked up pace. His hands fisted in the sheets, knuckles white with the force of his grip.
I reached around and wrapped my hand around his cock. Already hard again despite coming minutes before. Young and responsive and absolutely devastating.
"You feel perfect," I murmured against his ear. "Like you were made for this. Made for me."
"Sandro—" My name was barely coherent.
"That's right. Say my name. Let me hear who's fucking you. Who you belong to." I stroked him in rhythm with my thrusts. Felt him tighten around me as his pleasure built. "Come for me, Emilio. Let me feel it."
He obeyed. Came across my hand and the sheets with a shout that was probably heard by the entire household. I followed him over, burying myself deep as I emptied into him.
We collapsed together in a tangle of limbs and sweat. I pulled out carefully and dealt with the condom before gathering him against my chest.
He fit there perfectly. Head tucked under my chin, body relaxed in a way that suggested complete trust.
"Stay tonight," I said quietly. "Wake up with me again."
"I should go home. I have work tomorrow."
"You can work from here. I'll have Thomas drive you to the office when you need to go." I kissed the top of his head. "Stay, Emilio. Let yourself have this."
He was quiet for a long moment. Then: "Okay. I'll stay."
Satisfaction spread through my chest. Warm and possessive and exactly what I'd been aiming for.
He was mine now. Completely. He just didn't fully realize it yet.
But he would. Soon enough, he'd understand that leaving wasn't an option anymore. That I'd worked my way so thoroughly into his life that extracting me would be impossible.
For now, I held him while he drifted toward sleep. Ran my fingers through his hair. Thought about trial strategy and witness depositions and all the ways I was going to ensure we won this case.
Because I didn't lose. Ever.
And Emilio Rossi was too valuable to lose. In court and in my bed.
I'd make sure he stayed exactly where he was—compromised and complicit and completely mine.
Whatever it took.