Chapter 19 #5
“Torturing you?” I kiss her pussy—a chaste kiss, which takes all the willpower I’ve ever had times a thousand—and then glance up at her.
“No, that’s not what this is. I know many ways to torture, to make anyone tell me exactly what I want to hear.
A bullet to a kneecap, a sliced-off ear, a pulled fingernail.
That’s torture.” I flick my tongue lightly over her clit.
“This is not torture. This, cara mia, is revenge.”
Then I go back to what I love, tonguing and sucking her while I sink my fingers deep into her heat, wishing it were my dick instead. I do this until she’s shuddering and stiff under me, on the verge of coming. And then before she can, I withdraw to kiss her breasts or lick her belly button.
Again and again.
I edge her until she’s so wet that there’s a puddle on the surface of the table under her and she’s writhing and flushed, her pupils dilated wide. Until she’s giving me what I’ve so patiently waited for.
She begs.
“Please, Enzo,” she gasps out, angling her hips toward my mouth as I hover over her swollen clit without touching. “Please let me come.”
“I don’t know if I should.” I pretend to mull over her request. “Do you promise to be a real good little wife tomorrow and repaint our bedroom?”
She growls and tries to finish herself, but it’s no use. I catch her fingers just like I have every other time, keeping her from stroking her clit to completion.
“No touching this pussy,” I warn her. “It belongs to me.”
I give her one delicate flick of my tongue.
“I promise, damn you.” Her hips jump off the table. “I promise to repaint the bedroom. I’ll do anything you want.”
“Anything? I’m going to remember that, cara mia.” Grinning, I lower my head and give her what she wants, biting her clit while I plunge my fingers back into her heat and curl them, finding exactly what I’m looking for.
I’m relentless, and it doesn’t take long.
In seconds, she’s coming hard, tightening on my fingers and shouting my name so loud I’d be surprised they didn’t hear it on the street below.
While she’s still spasming on me, I withdraw my fingers and unzip my pants.
In the next breath, I’m inside her to the hilt.
Cazzo.
I can’t even think. She feels incredible wrapped around me, tremors still going through her. It’s as if we were made for each other. I felt it last night, then again this morning. It’s not just the adrenaline high I had coming off the Cantarelli thing. It’s bigger than I am. Bigger than both of us.
She sighs my name on an exhalation, and I move, bracing myself on the table.
I fuck her hard because edging her made me desperate.
The table shakes and quivers, and some more food falls to the floor and I do not give one single shit.
I don’t care if the whole table collapses under us, just as long as I can go down with it and finish what we started.
With each thrust, I play with her clit, loving the way it feels when she tenses up.
“I’m going to fill you up with my come,” I tell her. “And when it starts to run out of you, I’m going to fuck you again and give you more.”
“Oh God, Enzo,” she moans, squeezing me hard.
She likes it when I talk dirty to her, my wife.
“You’ll like that, won’t you?” I ask, fucking her deeper. “So much come inside you.”
She comes on me again, so hard she almost pushes me out. I don’t allow it, my hips colliding with hers as I thrust so hard, the table moves across the floor. I chase it, chase her, a white-hot bolt of pleasure snapping up and down my spine as I lose control and fill her up just like I promised.
I slide free of her and straighten, tucking myself back into my trousers. Getting off that hard was a rush, and my body is still recovering as I help her to sit up. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than Katya totally naked, sitting on my dining room table, freshly fucked.
I can’t resist wrapping her hair around my fist and tilting her head to kiss her thoroughly. She kisses me back, opening for me to devour her. She’s like a drug. One hit, and I need more and more and more. I’ll never be able to have enough.
But the night is young and I still have shit to do, and now that I’ve drained myself inside her, my body pangs with a different kind of hunger. So I end the kiss reluctantly.
“I’m going to rummage around in the fridge for something to eat,” I tell her. “You want anything?”
She catches her bottom lip between her teeth. “I really wanted to eat that sushi.”
I laugh and kiss her again, and then I reach for a piece that didn’t get knocked onto the floor, holding it to her lips. “Eat it, then.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t put that on your cock.” She grins and then takes it between her teeth.
I watch her chew delicately and swallow. It’s a rare, lighthearted moment between us. And I can’t deny it—there’s something about being with her that feels right in a way I never could have expected.
“That’s not a bad idea, cara.” I pick up another slice of shrimp tempura roll and offer it to her. “Maybe next time you decide to get me a dinner I don’t like, we’ll give it a try. For now, you’ve worn me out.”
Her teeth nip my fingers as she takes the bite from me, and I know it’s intentional.
“We’ll see about that,” she tells me when she finishes chewing and swallows.
I shudder to think what kind of mayhem she’ll leave behind tomorrow. But I’m also looking forward to it. Damn. Katya Andriani is one dangerous woman.