Chapter 26
CHAPTER 26
S arah
I wake up to the smell of coffee. Opening my eyes, I see a steaming cup on the bedside table. Vincent saunters in from the hallway, dropping a phone into the pocket of his grey sweatpants. He hasn’t put on a shirt, and I have to admit, I’m very much okay with that.
“Hey,” I say, shifting into a sitting position to sip my coffee.
“Hey, yourself,” he says, leaning against the door frame. His dark hair is tousled from sleep, and a layer of stubble dusts his face. It doesn’t look like he’s been awake much longer than I have. He strolls over to the bed and kisses the top of my head. “Don’t stay in bed too long, kitten. You have plans today.”
“Huh?” I ask, taking another drink of my coffee.
Vincent winks at me before casually walking to the bathroom, with my eyes glued to his ass the whole damn way. I hear the shower start up.
My vagina also hears the shower start up, a little throb reminding me of all the delicious things we did last night. I slip in next to him. Vincent stands under the spray, his eyes closed, and the hot water massaging his back. If he noticed me come in, he didn’t give any indication. Carefully, I move forward and sink down to my knees in front of him.
Even when he isn’t hard, his cock is impressive. I run the tip of my tongue up his length.
“Oh fuck, kitten,” he moans.
I run my tongue back down his cock and swirl it around the head. I can actually feel it swelling up under my tongue. Looking up into his eyes, I slowly take him into my mouth, my lips stretched tight around his girth. He groans. I alternate between licking and sucking down his shaft and balls and trying to take him as deep into my mouth as I can. Vincent starts petting my hair, and I can see the muscles in his legs and abdomen tense whenever I get just the right rhythm going. I get a little bit too enthusiastic and gag myself on the length of him. I pull back, saliva running down my face from my poor depth perception.
“Good girl,” he says, his voice deep and husky.
He presses his cock against my lips, and I open my mouth for him, trying to get back into the same rhythm as before. I start to gag, but hear an almost pained groan from Vincent. He weaves his fingers into my hair and holds my head, slowly advancing his cock. I start to panic and pull my head against his strong grip, but can’t budge.
“Breathe through your nose, kitten,” he reminds me.
When I’ve taken several breaths through my nose and the panic has worn off, he slowly presses deeper into my mouth. My jaw aches and my lips are stretched wide around him. I feel the thick head of his cock sliding to the back of my throat. I force my body to relax and slowly feel the resistance weakening. With a final push, he slides the rest of his cock into my mouth, and my nose is pressed up against his body. Vincent moans with pleasure. I look up at him, his lust-filled eyes boring into my soul.
“You look beautiful with my cock down your throat,” he says.
I feel my clit throbbing and start to circle it with my fingertips.
Vincent smiles. “Are you touching your wet little pussy with my cock in your mouth?”
I nod.
“Good,” he tells me, as he slowly backs out before thrusting back inside. With his hands gripping my hair, holding my head in position, there is nothing stopping him from fucking my mouth, something I didn’t fully understand was a possibility until right now. Regardless, I’ve sunk two fingers into my very wet center and am rubbing my thumb on my clit when I feel the tension building in my core, a wire coiling tighter and tighter until it snaps, and I’m tumbling headfirst off of a cliff and moaning around his cock.
Vincent has been watching me intently, watching me make myself come. “Oh fuck, baby,” he says, before thrusting deep down my throat again. I feel his cock swell, and the small spasms of his cum shooting down into my stomach. He pulls his cock from my mouth, and I use my tongue to catch the last drop of cum from the tip.
Vincent pulls me to my feet and presses his lips to mine, his tongue slipping into my mouth. He kisses me like he’s going to be executed and only I can grant his pardon.
When he finally comes up for air, we’re both panting. He mumbles something in Italian that sounds dangerously close to “ Jesus Christ” and a few other words I can’t pick out.
I then spend the next twenty minutes of my life getting the most thorough, detailed, hair and body washing of my life. Everything from combing the conditioner through my hair to massaging down the muscles of my back, arms, and legs. He’s surprisingly good with his hands.
Or maybe that’s not surprising, on second thought. I bite my lip to keep from giggling at my own observation.
He washes himself in a tenth of the time, kills the shower, and wraps me with a giant fluffy towel that smells like clean air and fabric softener. Then he produces a smaller towel so I can wrap up my hair.
I return to my now very cold coffee, with zero regrets about my decision to let it get cold, and Vincent disappears into the closet to dress. He emerges in yet another designer dark suit, this one navy blue and clearly custom made to hug every glorious part of his body. He’s finishing the knot in his tie, and the movement of the colorful silk gives me flashbacks to last night. When I see his eyebrow quirk up at me, I know he is aware of exactly what I was thinking. I proceed to turn what I assume is a lovely shade of fire engine red.
He leans down and kisses my lips, his cedar and leather scent drifting down around me. “Marie will text you when she’s on the way up with the therapist.” He checks his watch. “Shouldn’t be long now.”
“The who?”
“Massage therapist.”
I stare blankly at him.
“And then Marco is bringing Robert over when the designer gets here, so you have someone to shop with.”
“Marco—Robert?—”
“Apparently they get along now.”
“Oh,” I say. “Umm, question, what’s going on?”
Vincent walks to the other side of the bed and removes a gun that I didn’t know was in the nightstand and drops it into his holster. At my boggled expression, he nods towards my nightstand. “There’s a gun in that one, too.”
I pull the drawer open. I’ll be damned. “Ah, why are there guns in the nightstands?” I ask.
Vincent shrugs. “Because I am what I am.” As if we’re not having yet another completely bizarre conversation, he answers, “Concerning tonight, we’re going out. Black tie. Tell Marie if you’d like help doing hair and makeup or if you want to do it yourself and she will arrange it.” With a final kiss on my cheek, he waltzes out the door.
I don’t have long to be dumbfounded, as my phone buzzes.
This is Marie, we are headed upstairs now, are you decent?
Does a robe count?
Yep! We will be right in .
Marie knocks softly at the door before opening it to a smiling middle-aged woman wearing pink scrubs and carrying a folding table. She introduces herself as Janet, lists off her certifications, and announces that she is here for my massage. Marie helps her set up in the corner of the room and reminds us to call if we need anything.
Janet proceeds to give me the best massage of my life, starting at my scalp and working down to my toes and then back up again.
Somehow, Marie magically knows when Janet is done because she appears with my green smoothie, a recipe I told her about exactly once and somehow she managed to recreate it perfectly.
“Are you actually a fairy or something?” I ask her.
She smiles. “Not by a long shot. I’m just good at making things happen.”
“More like fucking magical,” I tell her. She gives me a smile that could light up half of Manhattan.
“Why, thank you,” she gives me a little bow. “I have to say, it’s been nice having you around. Getting to arrange surprises and girl stuff has been so much more fun.”
“You don’t normally do this?”
She shrugs. “I mean, I do whatever. The De Lucas have a lot of business projects, and I coordinate that. Reservations, errands, stuff like that. But in-house spa days and ballet lessons?” She giggles. “That’s a new one for me.”
I sip again on my smoothie, having run out of it at least three sips ago, but having trouble phrasing what I’m wanting to ask. “Does he—I mean is it normal, with the other women he is with…”
Marie smiles and takes the empty smoothie glass from me before I can take another useless, nervous sip. “Sarah,” she says softly, “so long as I have been here, I’ve never seen him do anything like this before.”
Her phone chirps.
“Oh, looks like Marco is on the way with Robert. Which reminds me, do you want me to have someone do your hair and makeup?” She winks at me.
“Umm, should I?”
She shrugs. “I would,” she waves her hands around the room. “Live a little!”
I laugh. “Okay, I guess yes then.”
“Perfect!” Marie pops up, and I half expect to see her disappear in a puff of smoke.