19. Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Nineteen
Emilia
H is hand runs back up my arm, then down my side, a carbon copy of his earlier moves.
The trek is torturously slow. His fingers slide along under my breast where he squeezes my ribs, before letting his hand run the rest of the way down my side to stop at my hip and squeeze like he’s mapping the landmarks of my body.
I grumble my frustration, and he chuckles darkly. “So greedy.”
My grip on the rail tightens, lesson learned, as his hand slides across the top of my pants to the opening, and slips underneath my panties, his fingertips brushing along my slit. My vision blurs and I start to pant as he slinks a finger inside me. “So fucking wet for me, Emilia.”
His finger pulls out of my hole, dragging the wetness slowly up to my clit, where he presses against the nub before running his finger back down and into my heat.
I feel my pussy clench around his finger.
He pulls his hand out from my panties, and I watch as he brings his glistening finger up to his face, his arm crossing over my chest, so he has to reach his head forward over my shoulder.
His eyes close as he slips the digit into his mouth, cheeks hollowing as he sucks, and slowly pulls his finger out.
“I dreamed of tasting you. And I will. But this will have to do for tonight.” He licks his finger again like he wants every last drop.
He opens his now darkened eyes to look at me and sucks the finger back into his mouth again.
He watches every micro expression on my face.
The intensity makes it hard to catch my breath.
I feel the moisture between my thighs increase at his actions, and my head turns towards him fully, transfixed by his actions.
He lets his right arm drop away, my gaze follows it. I’m so distracted that I don’t see his left hand in my periphery, so I’m startled when it firmly but gently grips my neck just underneath my jaw, the slight pressure making my head turn to face forward.
“Eyes front, Emilia.” His voice is rough in my ear as he rubs his cheek against mine, the light abrasion of his shadow of a growth only adds to my over sensitised skin.
His right hand dips back into my panties.
“Look out over all of those who wish they could have you and know that only I will get to taste you and touch you,” his voice commands as he slips two fingers inside me.
“The feel of you, of your pussy pulsing against me, has consumed my thoughts.” His left hand squeezes my throat ever so slightly, not to cut off my air, but to show that he could.
My core grips his fingers so tightly he can barely move them.
He grinds his erection against my ass at the same time as his palm presses harder against my clit.
I can’t help myself as I rotate my hips in encouragement.
“It has been a long time since I have had to take matters into my own hands, Emilia. But even my imagination has nothing on the feel of your pulse pounding beneath my hand.” He squeezes my throat a little tighter.
My heart pounds in my ears, and the sound of the club fades away, until all I can hear is our ragged breaths, and his filthy words.
“I can feel your dripping cunt tightening on my fingers, wishing they were my cock.” His palm presses harder against my clit as his fingers pump in and out of me.
I roll my hips, alternating between tilting them so his fingers can enter me more, then pressing backward so I can grind his length harder against me.
Hot licks of desire burn through my whole body as I bite my lip and shamelessly ride his hand.
It’s been far too long since someone else made me feel this good. The sensation is almost too much.
“One day soon, you are going to beg me to fuck you, and you’ll take every inch of my cock.
This thing between us can’t be denied.” His fingers pump furiously in and out of me.
I feel like I am going to hyperventilate.
His hand on my throat restricts my breath just enough so I can feel the power he holds, but not enough to stop me from drawing in much needed oxygen, heightening how everything feels.
“It was the echo in my mind of your voice screaming my name, that had me coming so hard into my own hand I saw stars, my Emilia,” he growls, then latches onto the skin between my shoulder and neck the sharp sting from the bite ripping my orgasm from me.
The music drowns out the sounds of my loud cries.
Vincenzo’s fingers are buried deep inside me as his hips jerk against me, the motion pushing us both forward.
Not able to hold both of our weight, my arms collapse causing my chest to drop forward over the balcony railing and his hand to fall away from my throat.
Vincenzo’s gentle hands grip my shoulders as he pulls me back up to rest against his chest. The sounds of the club filter back in slowly, the music thumps and the crowd cheer. My senses are overloaded as I fight to catch my breath, and I can feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest behind me.
Vincenzo’s arm wraps across my chest from behind, his breath stirring my hair as he rests his forehead against the back of my neck, taking a moment to gather himself.
My vision slowly clears, the club coming back into focus.
I sense eyes on us, so I turn my head slowly letting it lull back against Vincenzo’s behind me, the movement takes a lot of effort.
I go still when I catch the cold fury that distorts Kayla’s features into something truly horrifying.
I guess someone witnessed our display. Kayla tries to shove past the bouncer.
He moves into her path to prevent her from coming up the stairs.
She darts the other way, but he blocks her again.
I jolt as she slaps him across the face, watching as she lifts both of her arms like she is going to shove him in the chest. He catches both of her hands, using them to roughly pull her forward, and as he leans down to say something to her.
Her eyes bore into me, pure hatred shining in their depths. She is going to be a problem.
Before I can say anything to him about it, Vincenzo gently turns me to face him, then places feather soft kisses on my lips, my cheeks, and my eye lids, distracting me. He pulls the zip back up on my pants and rights his own clothes.
“Would you like a glass of water? I can have some brought up while we catch our breath,” he offers with a smile between kisses.
The expression on his face is serene and soft.
The lines of tension I noticed earlier are completely gone.
His hair flops over his brow a little, and my fingers itch to push it back and run my fingers through the silken looking lengths.
“Uh, no. Thank you.” I don’t pull away, but I don’t return his kisses. I smile softly, but something feels off. A pit forming in my stomach.
“Is everything okay, Emilia?” he asks, obviously sensing my distracted thoughts.
“What? Oh, yes. Absolutely.” I step back out of his embrace. “I think you just wiped me out a little.” I force my smile a little wider.
“Are you sure? You can tell me if I did something you didn’t like.” His brow furrows with worry and he takes a step to follow me.
“No, no. It's nothing like that,” I say in a rush. “That,” I gesture back over to the rail, “was amazing. I’m just still not sleeping well with everything going on. I was tired before I got here. Promise.” I look into his eyes and will him to believe me.
“Okay,” he says, hesitantly. But he doesn’t push. “Let me call the driver to bring the car around and take you home, then.”
“Thank you.”
Vincenzo escorts me down the stairs a few minutes later, Kayla and her groupies are thankfully nowhere in sight.
We walk out of the club with his hand lightly touching the small of my back.
Once I am settled in the back seat of the town car, he leans in to kiss me, his eyes searching mine for a moment longer than is comfortable, before he steps back, his hand gripping the top of the car door. “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
“Mmmhmm,” I nod, not trusting my voice.
“We can set up our next date then, presuming you want to see me again,” he asks, the doubt in his voice apparent.
“Yes. Absolutely. Sounds great.” I smile as brightly as I can muster. It must be good enough because he closes the door and steps back to the curb. The car pulls away almost immediately. I don’t look back.
I look down at my hands folded in my lap and bite my bottom lip until I taste the tang of blood, to keep the tears from falling. My throat burns from bile that is threatening to come up. Instead of getting answers, I practically publicly fucked the man who might have had my father killed.
Shame and self-loathing wash over me. One look, a heated kiss, and I didn’t even hesitate to put my needs first. My father had not even crossed my mind. And I have never hated myself more.