Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
GIOVANNI
I let her win.
I let her win because I want to see that victorious look on her face she always gets when she comes out ahead—and also because I want to watch her as she runs up those stairs.
She’s a sight for sore eyes—and a sore soul.
I slink up the stairs behind her, and she turns to me when she reaches the top landing, eyes glittering with her victory.
“Did all those push-ups wear you out, big guy?” she jests.
“Not in the least,” I say, maintaining my slow, easy pace up the stairs so I can keep enjoying the view of her at the top.
I enjoy the sight even more when she decides to gift me with a striptease, first pulling off the orchard shirt to reveal her bra—black lace, of course. That comes off next, and she swings it around her finger as she turns the corner, heading to my room, hopefully.
Her brother’s room, I remind myself darkly.
Is it bad luck to fuck Miles’s sister in his bedroom? Surely it’s not what he had in mind when he suggested that Nonna and I come here. I have no doubt he’d be pissed off if he finds out what we’ve been up to.
But right now, here, it’s hard to care.
Haven’t I done everything Miles wanted me to? I’m trying to take care of the farm, as well as I can. To take care of his family. And I need Bianca right now. I need her with an intensity that I’ve rarely ever allowed myself to need anyone or anything.
I trail after her, and part of me is relieved to see she’s at her own door, beckoning me with the finger with her bra hanging from it. Her gorgeous, ruby-tipped tits are on full display.
I’m a lucky man to be allowed this sight—to be allowed access to this side of Bianca. Funny and playful and deliciously fucking naughty.
“This time I’m invited inside?” I ask, my voice husky and deep. “What a privilege.”
“I need to make sure you keep up with your workouts,” she says, stepping inside and waiting for me to enter.
I stalk into the room, my eyes fixed on hers, and dip my head to brush my lips and then my teeth over one of those rosy, delicious nipples. She swears and I smile as I close the door behind me.
“Thank you,” I say. “I was just thinking to myself that I need a personal trainer to keep myself in line, and Sir Gala-Head hasn’t been providing the motivation I need.”
“I’m happy to step up,” she says, pulling off her leggings. I eagerly watch the show, and when she’s done, her whole body bare for me, she sashays toward me and tugs the hem of my shirt up, running her fingers over the band of skin she’s revealed.
It feels impossibly good, and I lean my head back and let the feeling skate over me as she pushes her palms upward against my bare flesh, the shirt hiking up.
“Madonn’,” I say in ecstasy.
“Why do you swear in Italian?” she asks, as she leans in and kisses my bare chest, the shirt bunched up along my neckline.
“My nonno taught us. He said it was the only way Nonna wouldn’t mind if we got fresh with them.”
I feel her mouth curve as she smiles against me, and then she’s pushing the shirt further up, and I help her by tugging it off the rest of the way.
“And the sweet nothings?” she says, cocking her head, her hair spilling out of the messy bun.
I brush a lock of it aside and lean in to kiss her—a brush of the lips, a preview of what’s to come. “What do you think?”
Her expression is full of sweet mirth as she says, “I think you and your brothers taught them to yourselves so you could pick up women more easily.”
I shrug my shoulder. “That might be. Is it working for you, tesoro mia?”
She reaches for the band of my sweatpants, then pushes them down, freeing my cock, which is aching for her. I step out of the pants and shove them aside.
“What do you think?” she parrots back to me.
“I’m fluent in Italian, bella. Like I said, my nonna raised us. She spoke mostly in Italian with my nonno and my father. All of us kids decided to learn it so we’d know what they were saying. I’ll speak as much of it to you as you like.”
She wraps her hand around me, making me moan. “Nope, nuh-uh. You’re irresistible enough, thank you very much.”
“You have me at your mercy.”
“I think you’ll find me very merciful today.” A mischievous look crosses her face. “Get down. We’re going to try it.”
“The sit-ups?” I ask, my smile slowly widening until I’m grinning like a pazzo.
No woman has ever made me feel this way before.
No one has ever made me feel like this…
It’s as if all the worries from the day have been stripped away.
I don’t care anymore that thousands of people who never met me are discussing my private business and making up stories about me.
I don’t care that Emily’s book is lying unread beside my bed, or that important emails are sitting unanswered in my inbox.
All I care about is that Bianca wants me.
“The sit-ups.” She pads over to her dresser, still the same old, warped wood as when we were kids, and removes a condom from the top drawer, which is a mindfuck if anything is.
I had no clue the day I so inexpertly kissed her that I’d fuck her one day.
That I’d be so crazy for her. That I’d find myself—
No, that’s not something I can think about now. She’s made it clear what she wants from me, and I’m going to give it to her.
“Is that for me?” I ask as she walks over, swinging her hips, looking every bit like a sex goddess.
She raises her eyebrows and opens the packet, then removes the condom and rolls it onto me—the feeling of her hot fingers fluttering across the head of my cock enough to make it throb with need.
“Does that answer your question?” she asks.
I slide a hand up her throat—not forcefully enough to hurt her, but enough to put that brazen, excited glimmer back in her eyes as I tip her face up to me. Her big, dark eyes hold mine, her lips parted in anticipation.
“Ragazza cativa.” I say close to her lips, nearly making the words part of a kiss.
A smile tips up her lips. “Yes?”
“You’re a very naughty girl, Bianca.”
She leans up and captures my bottom lip in her teeth, nipping it.
Fuuuuuuck.
“Now get down and give me twenty,” she says.
“Yes, signora,” I say as I reach up to cup her breast and squeeze her rosy, budded nipple.
She gives my chest a gentle push, and I grin at her, getting down on my knees. I press a kiss between her legs.
“Not this time,” she says, biting back laughter, and gives me another slight push.
“But I will taste you again. I’m addicted now.”
Her smile grows broader as I lie down on the floor, knees raised, cock incredibly hard. I look ridiculous, no doubt, but she’s not looking at me as if I’m ridiculous. She’s watching me with hunger in her eyes.
She stalks closer.
“Put your arms behind your head,” she says, her voice husky and full of desire.
“Come desideri. As you wish. I told you, I’m yours to play with.”
She straddles me and lowers herself onto me, her delicious wet heat pressed against my dick, which is unfortunately trapped against my abdomen instead of buried deep where it wants to be.
I lift up unintentionally, needing to get closer.
Because when I’m with her, and especially when I’m touching her, or even thinking about touching her, my mind becomes less chaotic.
She exhales a long, slow breath, and then she skims her fingers across the side of my face as she starts moving against me, teasing me, making my whole body ache. “You’re so beautiful, Giovanni. You’re almost too beautiful.”
“So are you, Bianca. You’re so beautiful to me, it pierces my soul.”
She rolls her eyes, but there’s a dreamy far-off look in them, like maybe she doesn’t hate or disdain my words. Good, because they’re true in every sense.
The moment she saved me on the stairway, something stirred to life in me. At first I thought it was only the need to prove myself to someone who doubted me, but I’ve realized it goes deeper. I want to prove myself to her, because I respect the person she is.
“Can I touch you?” I ask. “Please let me touch you.”
She grins, her eyes wicked as she plants her hands on my naked chest and rolls her hips again, sending another wave of hot need through me. “I thought I got to do whatever I wanted. I thought you were my playground.”
“Dio mio. At least it will be a good death. You can tell my nonna I went out happy.”
She rolls her hips again, then dips her head to run her tongue over my chest. “I’ve been wanting to do that,” she says, her eyes glimmering. “Now, I was told there would be sit-ups.”
“If you slide onto my cock, I’ll be your performing monkey, I promise. But let me feel the heat of you engulfing me, cara. I’m hungry for it.”
Heat flares in her gaze, and she lowers her face and kisses me, the loose hairs from her bun brushing my face in an agonizing tickle as she rubs against my cock again.
I’m so hard it’s almost painful. It doesn’t matter that I was inside her earlier.
I need her again, and I’m not foolish enough to think this will be enough either.
It’s been an exercise in madness living next to this woman for weeks, and I’m only now willing to admit it to myself.
What’ll it be like when you leave? a voice in my head asks.
But I ignore it, because now she’s lifting up, her fingers lightly wrapping around my cock as she moves me where she needs me—and a needy moan escapes me as she brushes against me, giving me the slightest taste of what I desire.
I’m desperate to wrap my hands around her, to thrust upward and sink into her, but this is her game, and I promised to play. It feels important to give her exactly what she wants, how she wants it.
Her lips part as she finally lowers down, taking me in, and I press my head back against the floor. Damn, the sensation is absolutely unreal. It’s a miracle that I don’t come on the spot.
“Bianca,” I say as she presses down hard, taking me in deep.
She arches her back as she runs her open palm over my chest, her fingers digging in slightly. “You feel so good.”
For just a second, I close my eyes, strangely at peace, which isn’t something I’ve ever experienced in a moment like this, when my need is hot enough to immolate me. “So do you.”
Knowing it will delight her, I flex my abs and sit up, my arms still pressed behind my head, my mouth opening to meet hers in a kiss that will hopefully blow my previous record out of the water.
She moans into my mouth, and when I lie back again, she lifts up, her eyes glimmering. “I’m going to push down every time you do a sit-up. It’ll be your reward.”
I could tell her again that she’ll be the death of me, that earning her smiles is worth any kind of torment, especially a torment this sweet, but instead I do the wise thing. I show her I’m a good boy by doing what I’m told.
And I’ll be damned. There never was a stronger motivation for doing a workout. Every man alive would have abs of steel if they had Bianca as their trainer, although the thought of another man touching her makes me want to breathe fire.
It doesn’t take either of us long to get close. I can feel Bianca clenching around me, and the sensation makes me wild with need.
“Please,” I groan against her lips the next time I rise to kiss her—and she lowers to grind her hips against me, taking me in deep. “Please let me wrap my arms around you. Let me touch you.”
It feels important for her to say yes. She holds my gaze, her eyes softening, and nods.
“Thank God,” I say, wrapping my arms around her as I lift my hips to get even more of her. I want to worship her, to make her feel, to make her smile. I want so badly to make it good for her.
I use one hand to cup the base of her neck, and with the other I reach around to pull her close as I thrust into her, wild now, and she makes a wanton sound I will remember forever.
I feel her come apart, squeezing me so tight I’m surprised my dick doesn’t snap off, and then releasing, the sensation so intense my own orgasm is seconds after hers. And still I rock into her, taking more. Wanting it all.
When I finally pull out and look at her, stunned, unmoored, she’s staring back at me with the same emotions in her gaze.
She smiles. “Well, that was some day.”
Dio mio, was it ever.