I prop my leg on his knee to give him better access as he pumps his fingers inside me. I pant loudly, seeking an orgasm I know is coming soon, and just before it does, Alessio slaps my pussy, cutting off my pleasure immediately.
Heaving breaths, I cry out, “Nooo.”
Alessio pins me against the tile and catches the last part of my scream with his mouth. We start making out, and my hands roam all over his body. He’s wet, and I can’t find a good grip to pull him even closer to me, even though he’s pressed against me already.
I’m feral with need, frustrated and helpless. I grab his forearms and dig my fingernails into them. Hard.
Alessio growls into my mouth and picks up my leg.
Yes!
Suddenly, he steps away and leaves the shower.
No!
I lean against the tile, catching my breath while he yanks two towels off the rack. With one, he dries himself, and he shakes out the other while his blue eyes are on me. We almost did it in the shower. Gah. Why can’t I have some dick and then dry off?
I twist my bottom lip into a pout and slump my shoulders, looking like a miserable wet puppy as I step out of the shower.
Alessio chuckles. “You can beg and see where that gets you.”
Hopeful, I instantly beg. “Please?”
Alessio draws me in front of him to face the mirror. He’s so much taller than I am that I can see his entire face. I don’t know what he sees, but I see a couple. I see a man and a woman who could have been. I see a couple that could’ve made each other very happy. But fate or destiny or whatever it wants to call itself is cruel and merciless when it comes to matters of the heart.
Maybe some cosmic bad luck says I don’t deserve nice things, and so it’s showing me what I could have had but never can, because if Alessio ever found out I spied on him, he’d end me.
If not literally, then he’d definitely cut me out of his life.
This thing with Alessio?
I don’t have to lift a finger.
For fuck’s sake, I don’t even have to bathe. He’ll wash me.
Alessio grabs my detangler and inverts it into his palm before finger-combing it through my hair. He then puts in the leave-in conditioner, then hands me my toothbrush with toothpaste.
I brush my teeth while he twists my nipples, and when I bend to rinse my mouth, he strokes my entrance from behind. It takes everything I have to continue with my oral care and not push back against his fingers.
Once I’m done, he praises me. “Good girl. Do you want me to dry your hair or braid it?”
“Braid!” I’m shocked at the pitch of my voice.
Alessio lifts an eyebrow.
I blush. “Braid, please.”
He nods and parts my hair with the comb. “Why braid and not dry?”
“Drying it takes longer.”
“We have all the time in the world.”
I swallow and hope he doesn’t see through me.
We don’t have all the time in the world. We really don’t.
Once I hand over the stupid plastic thingy, rat out his friend, who is Leo’s uncle Miro, and report on what I overheard Alessio talking about yesterday, I’m off the hook with the sadists. I delivered more than my fair share of the deal, and for their sake and mine, they need to let me off the hook.
