CHAPTER 7 #2
“Hopefully,” he murmurs while his hand slides over my lower abdomen, “we’ll give them a reason to stick around for the holidays next year.”
I let out a low groan of frustration. “You really are moving at the speed of light here, Angelo.”
I’ve tried to argue with him a few times over the last few days about this whole trying to knock me up thing. The man isn’t budging.
Not only is he worse than a mule, but now that he’s locked in on the idea of planting his seed in my womb, he’s become obsessed. I’m sure such a trait is a good thing in a man who needs to be focused on the family business, but it’s overwhelming for me.
“You’ll catch up,” he says it with such confidence that I almost believe it myself.
After clearing my throat, I move off his lap and head toward the kitchen. “I’m going to check on everything. Dinner should be ready soon.”
Am I escaping? Yeah, I fucking am and I’m not even a little bit ashamed of it.
The low rumble of Angelo’s chuckle coming from behind me tells me he’s seen through my flimsy attempt to exit gracefully. My cheeks heat and I have to wonder, not for the first time, if they’ll ever stop doing that around this man.
I’m not normally the type of woman to blush. It’s throwing off my whole alignment and just everything.
When I look at the timer, I let out a soft huff. Not nearly enough time has passed. I feel like a sitting duck in the kitchen.
It only takes a moment for my gut to be proven correct as Angelo sweeps into the room and I’m up and on the kitchen island counter before I even know what is happening.
He starts to pull and tug at my clothing, sliding my shirt up and off with precise movements which he’s practiced a lot over the last few days.
The man seems to live to undress me. And I’m here for it.
My soft lounge pants and panties slide over my hips, my man moving and lifting me right where he wants and needs me to get the job done. I gasp when he sets me back down and I glance down at my now totally, and quickly, naked body.
Angelo glances at the timer over his shoulder before looking into my eyes and smirking. “Looks like I need to beat the clock.”
He sinks down to his knees, his fingers digging into my thighs and prying my legs apart. I’m not exactly putting up any resistance, but my man is determined. I can see his focus in the way he’s staring at me.
Expecting him to tease me, I jolt when he dives between my thighs with zero finesse and all feral hunger. His tongue glides up one pussy lip and then down the other. My clit tingles with the need to know exactly what it feels like to get that kind of attention.
But he doesn’t give it.
He teases me.
Always close.
Near.
Dancing closer.
Retreating.
It’s maddening.
His tongue circles my entrance, and I shudder while my eyes lock onto the sight of Angelo on his knees in front of me. It makes me feel powerful.
Like a queen.
“La mia pace,” he groans against my wet flesh, a mix of my arousal and his hunger.
“You taste so fucking good. The best appetizer a man could dine upon and the perfect way to spend Christmas Eve.” He shifts his hold on me and uses his shoulders to tip me back enough that I have to slam my hands down to brace my torso and stop myself from falling back on the counter.
He grins, his eyes flashing with something devious.
“But I’m the only man who is ever going to have the chance to taste you now. ”
His ragged breathing ghosts over my pussy while his thumbs slide up my slit to spread me open. As his mouth hovers over my clit, I try to arch my body to get closer, but he holds me in place. I hate it.
I love it.
My little whimpers drug him, his eyes falling to half mast and glazing over. He looks at me like I’m something worth looking at.
I almost believe him. Almost.
When he sucks my clit into his mouth, I shatter. My scream echoes against the expensive tile which is on almost every surface in the kitchen. The groan he lets out has me shuddering harder and his fingers dig into me. His touch will add to the bruises he loves to leave on my hips.
“So responsive,” his words feel like a wave, full of praise and adoration as he pulls his mouth slightly away from me.
My eyes slide closed for a moment as I pant while my mind spins. No man has ever made me come as quickly as Angelo just did. I swear the man has an eidetic memory when it comes to my body and he’s become proficient at playing it.
I’m not complaining. Not even a little bit.
He clicks his tongue just as he pushes his thumbs inside of my pussy. I squirm on the counter and suck in a sharp breath at the stretching sensation. The look he gives me in his hazel eyes is pure seduction.
“I still have some time. I’m going to see how many times I can make you come before the buzzer. Then we’ll eat, but I want you at the table just like this—naked and ready for me.”
“I’m not eating dinner naked by myself,” my words are breathless and give away just how much I don’t hate the idea of being on display for him.
“I’ll join you,” he agrees, as he starts to fuck me with his thumbs, stretching me even more as he does. “This time.”
Unable to hold myself up any longer, I lay down on the counter completely and give myself over to my man. I trust him. Even if this can’t possibly last forever.