His eyes go molten. “Eating and fucking you. Let’s put those two together.”
Before I can ask what he means, he’s lifting me again, carrying me to yet another counter. But instead of pushing inside me, he bends me over it and drops to his knees behind me.
The first stroke of his tongue makes my knees buckle.
“Vin! Oh!”
He eats me like I’m his last meal, long, slow licks that make my toes curl. He grips my hips, holding me in place while I shake and moan.
His phone rings.
“Don’t answer it,” I gasp.
He ignores me, pulling back just enough to fish his phone from his pocket. “What.”
Even I can hear Matti’s voice through the speaker. Sharp. Urgent.
Vincenzo goes completely still.
When he speaks again, his voice is different, colder. It’s the voice of the man who sat at my kitchen table after the party that first night, sharp and violent.
“When?” A pause. “Where?” Another pause. “I’m on my way.”
He hangs up and stands slowly. The warmth is gone from his face.
“Vin?” My voice comes out smaller than I intend. “What happened?”
“They found Aurelio.” He’s already tucking himself back into his pants, his movements efficient. Mechanical. “It’s time to end this.”
Relief floods through me. “That’s good, right? That means—”
“Get dressed.” He’s not looking at me anymore. He’s looking past me at something I can’t see.
I pull my dress down. “This is what you wanted, right?”
He doesn’t answer. And that’s when I understand. Aurelio is his father. A monster, yes, a man who deserves everything that’s coming to him, but still his father.
“Vin.” I reach for him, my hand finding his arm. “Are you okay?”
For a moment, I think he won’t answer. Then he turns to me, and the look on his face makes me stop breathing.
“Bend over.”
“What—”
His hands are already on me, spinning me around, bending me over the counter. He pushes my dress up roughly and drives into my pussy in one hard thrust that makes me cry out.
“Vin—”
He wraps his arms around me, pulling me up to standing, holding me tight as he fucks me. “Just—FUCK. Just let me—”
He’s not degrading me this time. He’s holding onto me, anchoring himself.
I reach back, threading my fingers through his hair. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”
He buries his face in my neck and pounds into me harder. “My good girl. My sweet girl. I’m gonna fill you up. I’m gonna—fuck!”
“Yes,” I whisper. “Yes, please.”
