Either way, I’ll take it.
Finally, after my seventh climax, he steps back. I look at him questioningly. My gaze darts to the bulge in his jeans. It’s not as obvious as when he’s wearing sweatpants, but I can still see how badly his cock wants to break free.
“What about you?” I ask.
“Today’s about you,” he replies.
“But I want you to fuck me.” I know I’m pouting, but can’t help it.
“Later,” he replies dismissively.
“Your cock thinks otherwise,” I sniff.
“My cock doesn’t rule me,” he says gruffly, though it’s obvious he’s struggling to hold back.
I glance sadly at the lid of the Steinway. “I thought we were going to test if it would hold our combined weights?”
“Your pussy must be raw by now,” he tells me.
I nod. It is at that, though I hadn’t really noticed until now, I guess because I’m finally coming down from the pleasure high he gave me.
“Rest for a while,” he continues. “We have all day to fuck.”
I look at him and realize this is just another power play. He wants to show me he’s the one in control, and that he’ll give me his cock when he damn well feels like.
I’m tempted to reach for his pants and stroke him outside his jeans if only to show him how easily I can push him over the edge. But then he’s likely to punish me in some way, so I decide to hold off. After all,I’msated. For the most part.
Besides, I know that by waiting now, the desire between us will only build and build, our want growing by the minute, so that when we do finally have sex it’ll be that much more incredible and satisfying. He wants us to be ravenous? He wants us to claw our clothes off and fuck desperately, starved for release? Fine.
Actually, I can’t help but smile. Oh, he’s going to pound me senseless.
I can’t wait.
I’ll let him think he’s in control for a while longer. And I’ll take him over the edge when I’m ready.
“What are you smiling about?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Nothing. Just… I never knew you were so good with your hands.” The words make me blush, and I can’t meet his eye.
“I can’t play the piano,” he agrees. “But I can play the pussy.”
“A good skill to have,” I tell him.
His phone buzzes in his back pocket and he grabs it. When he sees the number, he starts walking away. “I have to take this.”
He leaves the room, going upstairs. I have three options. I can follow him and listen in. I can go to the open patio door and try to escape. Or I can lie here on the piano and bask in the after-orgasm glow. Seven in a row. Wow.
I gaze at the patio door. Why don’t I feel like escaping anymore? He kidnapped me, forced me to be his captive, but now I’m not so sure I want to leave. He’s almost back to the Massimo I used to know. More mature, and a little rough around the edges, but still a good guy.
I shouldn’t think about that very hard. Today’s our last day. Tomorrow he’s going to let me go, one way or another, so I need to keep my emotions in check. Unless I’m completely misreading him, I don’t think he’s going to kill my father anymore. So that means I’ll eventually have to marry The Cleaver. That is, assuming Massimo actually returns me to my family tomorrow and not some other bidder.
I have to remind myself that he’s still a mobster at heart, and his first loyalty is to his own family. While I definitely enjoy hot sex with him, this isn’t a real relationship. It’s purely physical. And neither of us can let it become anything more.
Yes, I need to keep my feelings in check. Just focus on this day. Enjoy the time we have together and not get attached.
That’s all I can really do.
Man, it’s going to be tough.
