47
SERAFIN A
V ulnerability is clearly something Luca isn’t comfortable with. It’s obvious that he sees it as a weakness, but I think it’s a strength. I hate that he felt like he had to hide his attraction to Levi from me as if I wouldn’t approve. His admission has only brought us closer together. The look in his eyes tonight was everything, and I can’t stop thinking about it as I make my way to the pool house.
Maybe I should feel some sense of betrayal like Luca suggested, but the truth is, I don’t. I want them both, and we’ve spent so much time together lately that something must have clicked between the two of them. If anything, after our conversation, I feel that much luckier to have guys like Luca and Levi in my life, who are willing to be open with me about what they’re feeling. And maybe they need each other just as much as I need them.
Whatever feelings they have for one another have obviously been kept under wraps and swept under the rug. But Levi and Luca need to talk, because tiptoeing around their feelings can only end badly. So I gave them a little push, and I hope it helps them solidify their relationship. Luca is obviously struggling with it the most. While Levi bounces around playing ignorant, Luca seems more attached to his masculinity. Little does he know that masculinity plays no part in this unusual relationship of ours. I just need him to see that, and hopefully, Levi will be the one to show him.
I reach the door to the pool house, hearing the shower running when I arrive. Clutching a pizza box in my hands, I nudge the door open and peek inside. The lights are on, a dull glow filling the small space Giovanni has inhabited.
“Gio?” I call out, but the slapping of water against tile drowns out my voice.
Carefully, I pad toward the bathroom, dropping the pizza box on the little table by the window. Nobody wants soggy pizza.
Steam billows from the crack in the bathroom door. I push it open slowly, my breath faltering as I gradually take in Giovanni’s sturdy form through the glass partition. His shoulders are large and broad, practically swallowing his neck. His back is thick with muscle, hard ridges and smooth planes that I want to run my hands over. I can only imagine what the front of him looks like. I’ve already had the opportunity to drink in his abs and thick chest, but that’s not what’s on my mind now.
Levi and Luca have riled me up, and seeing Giovanni like this only stirs those urges, whirling them into a pit of desire and uncontrollable lust.
My gaze travels further south, but just as I bite back the urge to groan, Giovanni spins around.
“You get a good look, Principessa ?”
I raise a brow, my lips slowly turning up into a smile as I glance down at the package he’s been concealing. “Someone’s happy to see me,” I comment.
In a split second, Giovanni lunges forward, catching me by the arm and tugging me into the doorless shower. The water soaks through my oversized shirt, the material clinging to me. But what steals my attention is Giovanni.
He’s close, so breathtakingly close, that I’m frozen. His hot breath skates over my face, the fresh scent of mint blending with the citrus soap trailing down his bicep. For a second, I lose all cognitive thoughts. I’m drunk on Giovanni’s proximity, hooked on it until all I can think about is our bodies moving together.
Giovanni’s plump, wet lips lift at one corner. He raises a brow and looks down, his dark hair flopping in front of his face. In this moment, he just looks like a regular guy. Innocent and bashful, mysterious and profound.
“I’m always happy to see you, Principessa .”
Before I have the chance to reply, his lips are on mine. I thread my hands through the wet strands of his hair, letting him guide my mouth with his own as the torrent of warm water from the shower drenches us. I feel every well-earned muscle ripple as he pins me against the tiles. This guy isn’t just an adonis, he’s a goddamn higher-being.
He nips at my lips before diving his tongue past them, where he takes complete control. The two times we’ve kissed before have nothing on this one. He worships me, kissing me thoroughly, and I do my best to give it back to him with equal intensity. He plays my mouth like a kissing prodigy, knowing exactly what I like, where I like it and how to have me gasping for breath. I don’t have to second guess the spark between us because my pussy is throbbing from this contact alone.
All too soon, Giovanni pulls away, leaving both of us breathing heavily. “I thought you were going to speak to the guys?” he pants softly, leaning down to nip my ear.
I stifle a moan, but the urge to grind my hips against his cock takes over. “I did,” I whisper back, gripping his shoulders and arching my back, aching to get just a sliver of friction to relieve me.
Giovanni grabs the backs of my thighs, wrapping my legs around his waist but still pinning me to the wall with his large body.
From this angle, I can feel all the hard ridges of his abs and pecs, and the press of his cock to my covered entrance has me tingling with anticipation.
“And?” he growls in my ear, making my pussy clench around nothing .
I lean forward, brushing my lips against his. “They have other things to talk about besides us.”
Giovanni quirks a brow, intrigue written all over his face. I don’t answer his silent question- it’s not for me to say what is happening between the guys in the den. When they’re ready, they’ll tell us. For now, I want to focus on this moment and explore this connection.
“I brought pizza,” I chirp, smiling at him sweetly.
“Hmm…” Giovanni grumbles, rubbing himself against me. “I’m not hungry for pizza.”
I know exactly what he’s hungry for, and after getting riled up by Levi and Luca, I’m more than ready for Giovanni.
I cup the back of his neck, using his strength to get level with him. “I know what you’re hungry for,” I tease, letting my weight drag over his shaft.
He groans back, his restraint clearly wavering as he grips me tighter. I know there are so many steps we’ve missed getting to this point. But if the last few months are anything to go off, I’d say that more than makes up for jumping a few steps.
I slide down Giovanni’s body, letting him guide me to my feet. My fingertips run down his arms, feeling his bulging biceps tense underneath my touch. I trace the ridges of his abs, the dressing still covering his bullet wound. A pinch of guilt twists at something inside of me, a hint of sadness coming to the forefront.
Giovanni grabs my hand, lifting it to his lips to kiss each finger. “I don’t regret a thing, Principessa .”
I nod, acknowledging just how deep his loyalty runs. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the idea of someone willing to take a bullet for me. Even though it’s expected, there are reservations sitting in the back of my mind that nobody should have to do that, least of all for me.
I look up at Giovanni through my wet eyelashes, droplets of water running down my face. I take in every dark and enigmatic feature of his that I’ve yet to explore. I’ve only begun to scratch the surface on what makes my bodyguard the way he is. His loss, elusive and vague as his explanation was, clearly haunts him. He holds those broken parts like shards of glass he longs to repair. And I want every shattered, sharp edge of him. I want to be the one to help him mend them, help him move forward. I don’t know how to do that, but after Giovanni took a bullet for me, the least I can do is try.
Dropping to my knees, I run my hands down his thighs. Giovanni cups my chin, lifting it so my eyes meet his. “A queen should never get on her knees,” he rasps, thumbing my bottom lip.
“I thought I was principessa ?” I retort playfully.
“For me, yes. To La Cosa Nostra, you’re their leader.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want to think about that right now,” I say, running my palms over his tight stomach. “I want this.”
I lean forward, kissing Giovanni’s right thigh. “I want you.” I kiss his left thigh. “I want to fall apart with you.”
He nods down at me, a silent confirmation that we both want this.
And with that, I grip his thick shaft, running my tongue down his length. The soft skin slides against my tongue, my lips and mouth devouring his cock until he’s groaning for more.
His hand slaps the tiles behind me, his right leg shaking slightly. I commend the guy for holding back so much; it can’t be easy. But I’m not here to hold back. I want all of Giovanni, not just the bodyguard who’s hell bent on protecting me, but the guy that walked into my office a few days ago and kissed me like his life depended on it.
I take his cock in my mouth, my tongue running the underside of it as I pump him with my hand.
“Fuck, Principessa ,” he groans above me.
I look up at him beneath hooded eyelids, my vision blurring from the desire coursing through me. The way he looks down at me, eyes full of his restrained desire, spurs me on. I take him deeper, pumping harder than before.
His fists clench against the wall, his eyes closing like it’s taking everything in him not to give into the pleasure.
I release him with a pop, earning another satisfactory moan from Giovanni. With my hands gripping his thighs, I look up at him. He shakes his head at me, forcing me to scowl harder. “Lose yourself.”
His green gaze hardens and his jaw feathers. It’s like he’s at war with himself, trying to decide what he wants more. I can categorically say that if he doesn’t want his dick sucked, then we won’t work.
“Is that what you want?” he asks, voice low. “You want me to fuck this pretty little mouth?”
His words twist a delightful knot in my stomach. Those dirty words take effect and all I want is for him to take control, take what he wants.
“Yes,” I rasp.
He tilts his head, running his thumb along my bottom lip again. “Open up.”
With those two words, I comply.
He tears my hands away from him, gripping my wrists in one hand while he cups the back of my head. Guiding my mouth towards the purple head of his dick, I open wide. He’s slow at first, almost tentative with the way he slides it into my mouth. But once my tongue twists around the head, he snaps his hips forward, his cock sinking further into my mouth. With each heavy drive of his hips, he lets out grunt after delicious grunt, making me moan in response.
My knees rub against the hard floor, but it doesn’t detract from the ache between my thighs. I take Giovanni in my mouth, letting him control this. In and out, he pumps harder, deeper. His grip on my wrists tighten, a bruising force that I know will ache tomorrow, but I don’t care. I’m so lost in this moment, where the fine line between us has been erased, that I can only think of one thing; Giovanni.
I relax my throat, his cock spearing it so hard that my eyes start to sting. His thrusts deepen, like he’s determined to reach the pit of my stomach. He probably could, and I’d let him. He holds me in place, his dick now blocking my airway until my vision starts to cloud. My lungs burn, fighting for oxygen, but I don’t want it to end. The sadistic part of me enjoys relinquishing control like this.
Suddenly, Giovanni pulls away, strings of saliva connecting me to the angry head of his cock.
I heave a loud inhale, the fresh oxygen blazing through my chest as I cough and sputter. He still has me pinned upright, his cock merely inches from my face, and all I can do is smile .
“Spit or swallow?” he asks, his tone gravelly.
I shrug, too afraid to think about talking, especially with the way he just tried to destroy my vocal chords. But Giovanni is looking at me for a real answer.
“What would you prefer?” My voice strains through the words.
Giovanni leans down, licking the seam of my lips. “I think I want you to swallow every last fucking drop.”
Before I can reply, he’s standing and shoving his cock back into my mouth, his thrusts already picking up a determined pace. It’s beautiful and seamless the way he moves; still gripping my wrists, still chasing his climax.
I look up at him. I want to see the way he falls apart. I want to watch him come undone while I do as I’m told. I want Giovanni to see that I’m on my knees for him because I want to be.
His thrusts start to slow, but he’s still determined with the way he punches his hips. It’s hard and deep, but slow enough for me to breathe through until he spears into me once more, holding my head so tightly that it isn’t until I feel the warmth spilling down my throat that I realize I’ve stopped breathing.
His green gaze is hard, commanding and yet filled with desire as his chest moves with each heavy breath. “Swallow, Principessa .”
And if that isn’t an order I want to submit to, I don’t know what is.
My throat constricts as I swallow his release, the thick cum sliding down seamlessly. When I’m done, he pulls away from me, dropping to his knees. There’s sadness in his eyes, a level of guilt there that I can’t quite comprehend.
Is it me?
Did we go too far too soon?
“Gio—“
He slams his mouth onto mine, his hands already moving to peel my wet t-shirt away from my body.
“It’s your turn to lose yourself,” he growls against my lips.
If only he knew, I already have.
He picks me up from the tiled floor effortlessly, wrapping my legs around his waist and carrying me into his bedroom. My stomach twists with excitement as he drops me onto the soft mattress, my shorts soaking the covers beneath me.
I look up at Giovanni, crawling on top of me with a hunger in his eyes that I’ve never seen before. It sparks every inch of my body, littering me with goosebumps.
His mouth closes over mine, soft yet demanding. It’s deep, hungry and has me moaning for more. But all too soon, Giovanni pulls away, leaving me breathless and desperate. He moves down my body, kissing every inch of my skin. He tugs my nipples between his teeth, eliciting half a groan, half a moan.
My pussy clenches as he continues the onslaught, not stopping until he’s on the ground on his knees, pulling my shorts down my legs. “I’ve had to listen to those guys devour this pussy, now it’s my turn.”
Shock chokes the air in my lungs as Giovanni suctions his mouth to my pussy without warning. There’s no teasing, no build up of pleasure; I don’t need it. Just having Giovanni coming down my throat has already set me off. I’m drenched , but in the best possible way—and it’s not just from the shower.
Giovanni nips at the fleshy part of my thighs. It’s deliciously harsh, abrupt yet satisfying. And when he returns his attention to my clit, pumping a thick digit inside of me, I scream out. My hips roll as he moves his tongue over my clit, lapping me up like a starved man. “Gio!”
The knot of pleasure is already building between my legs. It’s only a matter of seconds before I come undone and Giovanni wastes no time in milking it from me. He pumps harder, deeper and faster. He adds a second finger, then a third, stretching me gloriously until my body explodes with pleasure.
Like a tidal wave, my climax crashes down, sending me over the edge.
Giovanni pins my thighs to the bed, dragging his tongue from my clit to my ass, over and over. It’s too much. It’s too sensitive. My fists wrap in the sheets, my wet hair sticking to my face as I thrash.
“Please,” I beg. “I can’t! ”
But apparently I can.
I’m so dazed, still riding the wave of my orgasm that it takes me a second to register what Giovanni is doing.
His thick body hovers above mine, a delicious smile creeping upon those swollen lips. “I need to be inside you,” he grunts, and with one single thrust, he spears into me.
I cry out again, the pleasure rippling through my body, joining the aftermath of my recent orgasm. My fingernails dig into his biceps, clutching on for dear life as Giovanni rolls his hips. Each thrust sends me closer to the edge again and again.
I clench my eyes shut, the overwhelming sensitivity making my body shudder. Giovanni plays my body like an instrument, building the tempo further and further, the crescendo of our release on the precipice until all he has to do is drive once more into me, hard and determined.
“Fuck!” he groans out.
Heat fills me from within, forcing me to whimper his name as my release wracks my body in tiny explosions. My toes curl as my arms tighten around Giovanni, but he doesn’t let go. He rides us both out of our climax, until my body is numb and my throat is sore.
Our chests heave together, creating their own music to accompany our breaths like a melody. And when I finally open my eyes, I find the most stunning green ones gazing back at me. It takes my breath away all over again, and I’m instantly taken back to the first day we met. I’m lost in the moment, so captivated by my bodyguard that I don’t realize he’s saying anything until he kisses my lips.
“You make me feel things, Principessa .” His voice is gravelly, worn from our exertions.
I raise my hand to stroke his temple, catching a bead of sweat on my thumb. He looks so relaxed, at peace with whatever has been warring inside of him for so long. Maybe it’s the loss of his daughter, or maybe it’s something deeper.
We might not be close to opening up about our deepest, darkest secrets, but there’s a possibility we could be more. That’s the thought I cling onto the hardest, hoping we can be more, because I’m not ready to let this go just yet.
We’ve only just begun to scratch the surface of how we feel for one another. There’s so much we need to talk about, so much to explore, that time is the one thing we need. But that’s the one thing this life of mine can never promise.
Time.