But I know why. My body is betraying me. I’m just confused. Lonely.
I quickly fetch my blouse from the floor and slip it on. I grab an arancini ball, sit down, and begin nibbling on it. I feel his heated gaze on me the whole time.
God, he’s so beautiful. How I’d love to feel those strong arms around me. And I wonder what his cock looks like.
I glance at his crotch. His cock is still pulsing in his pants, like it’s driving him crazy. I wish he wore sweatpants all the time. I wonder—
Then he turns his back on me. I’m disappointed when he begins making his way toward the door. His movements seem mechanical again, as if he’s forcing himself to take every step, and it’s the hardest thing he’s ever done.
I kind of appreciate his self control around me. He could have taken me by force a long time ago, but he never did. Maybe there’s some of the old Massimo left inside him after all.
My eyes drop to his ass. Man, he really must do a lot of squats at the gym, because he’s got the perfect butt, even when wearing sweatpants. He’s so hot. If he hadn’t become such a jerk, maybe things could have actually worked out differently between us.
I keep going on like that, torn between wanting to fuck him and wanting to let him go.
Finally, when he reaches the doorway, I set aside the barely eaten arancini ball and stand up. I can’t help the words that come from my lips.
They’re innocent words, but the rawness in my voice gives me away.
“Massimo,” I tell him breathily.
He turns around. “What?” He seems dazed, confused.
“I’m sorry,” I rasp. “For telling you to go… fuck… yourself.” God, why does everything sound so sexual and full of double-entendres when I’m horny?
He simply stares at me, his eyes flaring with desire, as if my words, and my tone, have set him off again. Seeing that all-consuming hunger, that sheer desire, makes my heart race all over again, and I find myself wanting him more than ever before.
I forget about everything—the room, the masks of kidnapper and captive we’re wearing. It’s just me and him as we used to be, our raw bodies, our raw lust, encapsulated and set apart from the rest of the world. Nothing else exists.
He shuts the door and takes a step toward me.
11
Massimo
Ican’t control the steps I’m taking toward her. It’s like my body is operating on autopilot, consumed by a desire I didn’t know I had—or didn’t know a woman could stir in me. All those feelings I used to have for her eight years ago come rushing back, amplified tenfold. My logical mind has been replaced by the raw instinct of my primal hindbrain.
I can’t stop thinking about what I saw moments ago. Those perfectly formed breasts nestled neatly in her bra, just waiting for me to ease them out and suckle them like there’s no tomorrow. I can still see that beautiful pink areola from the day before in my head. I can still remember it’s taste.
She was so gorgeous just now in those panties. Her hips had jutted out, stretching the top hem above her tummy, inviting me to slide my hand into the gap. I almost did, almost fingered her virgin pussy. It was so close to me, ready to be dominated. I somehow managed to control myself, somehow managed to retreat to the door by telling myself she was just acting, that she wanted to seduce me to save her father and the rest of her family. I told myself she doesn’t really want me. Despite all the obvious signs I recognized that she did. So many excuses I gave myself. So damn fucking many.
But when she spoke and I heard the breathlessness in her voice, heard the desperation, I snapped. I realized I was playing mind games with myself. She wants this just as badly as me, who am I kidding?
So I turned around, and now I’m closing the gap once more. She’s standing in front of the hardback chair, and stares at me with obvious want. Her cheeks are flushed, and her face is glowing. When I meet her eyes she’s unable to hold my gaze and looks down shyly, only to look up again, those beautiful eyelids fluttering.
My logical mind battles its way to the surface and makes one last attempt to stop me. This is a bad idea, it tells me. I should turn around. If I fuck her, get attached to her, I could seriously mess things up with my brothers. They risked their lives to pull off this kidnapping, and they’re continuing to risk their lives every day we hold her. If there’s no payday, I don’t think they’ll forgive me, despite what Rosa says. I know my brothers. They’re hardened gangsters like me. There’s no going back from a kidnapping like this. I have to go through with her eventual trade—I can’t just change my mind, especially not after she’s seen my face.
But my logical mind falls by the wayside when I see Angela’s gaze drop to my crotch, and I feel my cock pounding in time with my heartbeat, trying to break free of the prison of my sweatpants. She’s giving me an eye blowjob, and I swear I’m getting close to climaxing from that alone.
I pause when we’re separated by only a pace. I glance at the arancini balls and realize she only nibbled on the one she’d taken. For some reason, that makes me angry, momentarily overriding the near overwhelming desire inside me.
“You didn’t eat your balls,” I tell her, and scoop up a pair. My cock is still raging. “If you won’t, then I will.” I shove them into my mouth. It’s my logical mind’s last ditch effort to distract me, and save me from doing something I’ll probably regret. I stare at her while I chew, and she bites her lower lip shyly. I’m surprised by the next words that come out of her mouth.
“Maybe I want to eat your balls instead,” she coos.
I nearly choke on the arancini. After I recover I swallow and, growling, kiss her. Hard. Unlike our kiss the day before, she embraces this one wholeheartedly from the get-go, and mashes her lips frantically against my own as if she’s afraid I’m going to stop again.
“How about my cock?” I ask her from the sides of my mouth. “You want to eat that too?”
