Lowering his head, he buries it in my chest, his tongue lapping at the swell of my breasts before he sucks a nipple into his mouth through my nightgown. I throw back my head, writhing and whimpering on top of him, as he adds another digit in my cunt and alternates his mouth from one nipple to the other. He bites and tugs on the hardened peaks, and I’m seconds from begging him to fuck me when his cell pings with an incoming message, grabbing my attention. It’s only on the screen for a few seconds, but it’s long enough for me to read it. It’s from Fiero, and it effectively douses my arousal in a bucketful of ice-cold water.
“Is it done? Bloody sheets are clearly not an option, so I want photographic proof you banged her before I wire the money.”
“You fucking bastard.” Tugging on Massimo’s hair, I stretch his head back as I lift my hips and reach down between our bodies for his junk. I dig my nails into his dick as I grab it and twist hard. He yells out as his hands automatically fall off my body, and I hop up. Steam is practically billowing from my ears as I pace the carpet in front of the couch. “You bet your best friend you could fuck me for money?” I scream, my anger rising with each heated step I take.
Massimo rubs his dick, grimacing in pain. “It’s not what you think,” he pants.
“I just saw Fiero’s message!” I roar, jabbing my finger in the direction of his cell. “You can’t talk your way out of this!”
“Shit.” He curses again as he presses a button on his phone and sees the message. He visibly cringes reading it. He climbs awkwardly to his feet, still rubbing his rapidly deflating dick. “Mia amata, let me explain.”
“Stop calling me that!”
“I admit I made a stupid bet with Fiero, but I couldn’t give two shits about it.” He walks toward me, and I hold my palm up, warning him to stay back. “I told you I wouldn’t force you, and I meant it. I only asked for one kiss. The rest was all you, and don’t deny you wanted me because I still have the evidence of your need on my fingers.” He shoots me a smug grin, and I lose it.
I pick up the nearest thing to me—a crystal glass bowl—and throw it at his head. He ducks at the last second, narrowly avoiding it. The bowl smashes against the wall, breaking into smithereens upon impact. “Jesus. Calm down.”
“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down!” I yell, unplugging a lamp and throwing that at him next.
Massimo jumps over the couch, and the lamp shatters on the floor. Consumed with rage, I pick other ornaments and things up and fire them at him as he pleads with me to stop, backing up toward the bedroom, trying to get out of my range. I almost throw the Macallan, coming to my senses in time to set it back down. It costs me, and I chase after Massimo’s retreating form as he races into the bedroom and barricades himself in the bathroom.
“Come out here, and face me like a man!” I pound my fists on the door as an idea formulates in my mind. I stalk to the bed and open my weekend bag, rummaging inside for the small medical kit I packed.
“Stop throwing shit at me, and I will,” he says through the door.
I grin as I find what I need, extracting the syringe and pushing the plunger in preparation. Padding toward the closed bathroom door, I place the syringe with the diphenhydramine liquid down on the bedside table behind me.
I have a prescription for the sleeping aid, using it at times when the nightmares keep me awake too many nights in a row to adequately function. “Explain to me how two grown men can act like immature teenagers, and perhaps I can see the funny side to it,” I say in a deliberately calm voice from directly outside the door.
“It was stupid, but it’s how Fiero and I roll. It really didn’t mean anything, and I swear what happened with us out there was nothing to do with it.”
“No, that was allme,” I drawl, sarcasm littering my words as I work hard to muzzle my anger.
“Do you promise not to throw anything at me if I open the door?”
“I promise,” I truthfully reply, retrieving the syringe and keeping it hidden behind my back.
Tentatively, he opens the door and peeks out. I narrow my eyes but hold myself still, leaning against the door frame.
“It wasn’t all you. I wanted it too, but not because of some stupid bet.”
I lean in closer, licking my lips and staring at his mouth. “Do you really mean that?”
“Yes.” He clasps one side of my head, his gaze moving from my eyes to my lips and back again. “You felt my boner. There is no way of faking that. You only have to look at me, and I get hard. I’m hot for you,mia amata. Always.”
I inch closer, pressing my body against his as we stand in the doorway. “Do you want to pick up where we left off?”
His eyes flare with renewed need. “Hell yeah.” He doesn’t even stop to question my motives. I thought he was different than other men, but perhaps he’s not—he’s a sucker ruled by his dick just like the rest of them.
I raise my hidden hand as I stretch up, putting my face all up in his to distract him. “Hell will freeze before I let that happen,” I say, stabbing the syringe in the side of his neck and pushing the plunger all the way down.
Shock splays across his face as his hand flies to his neck, and he yanks the syringe out. It’s empty, and he is too late. I grin as I watch horror race across his face. He looks from the syringe to me with mounting panic.
I want him to pay, and I should let him stew, believing I have given him a death shot, but I’m not that cruel. “Don’t look so concerned. It’s only a sleep shot. I gave you a double dose, so I reckon you have about ten minutes before you conk out.” Grabbing his semi-hard dick, I stroke it through his pants, enjoying how fast it hardens beneath my touch. “Thank you for being a giant asshole and reminding me why I will never fuck you.” I shove him down on the bed as he stares at me with a look of disbelief mixed with anger. “You can die of blue balls for all I care.”
ChapterSixteen
Massimo
