He grabbed the tops of my thighs, then tugged my ass to the edge of the bed. “Sweetheart, I’m not picky.” He slid his hand underneath my back, and he lifted me to his hips, the height of the bed too short for his six and a half feet. He guided me onto his length instead of pushing himself inside me, and I sealed him nice and tight.
He moaned like the only thing around his dick in the last ten days was his hand. “Fuck, I missed this pussy.” He sheathed himself, then yanked up my dress to reveal my tits. His enormous hand gripped my side, his thumb over my belly button with his fingers over my hip. He thrust his hips and pulled me into him, nailing me at the edge of the bed, giving me his whole length like he wasn’t in the mood to be considerate.
Every time he thrust too far, it hurt, but it was the best pain I’d ever felt. “Constantine ...”
“Missed this dick?” he asked, pushing into me and making me wince with every thrust.
“Yes.”
“Show me how much you missed it.” He pulled me a little closer, ramming me harder than he ever had.
I should have cried out in pain, but I started to come instead. “Constantine ... god ... yes.”
Chapter 24
Aurelia
We left the guest bedroom and headed down the hallway until we reached the double doors to his bedchambers. The doors were fifteen feet high and appeared to be made of solid gold. The outside was engraved with an image of the Roman Forum as it was believed to have appeared at the time of the ancient Romans. The Arch of Titus next to Palatine Hill, the temples dedicated to the gods, Roman arches used in every building. A piece of the Colosseum was also visible in the background.
The door itself must have been worth a million euro.
He opened the door, and the movement was so slow that I could tell it was as heavy as it looked. I studied the series of hinges attached to the wall. Thirty of them to keep the door up.
When we stepped inside, I saw he had an entryway with a table holding a vase of flowers in the center. The table was brilliant blue and yellow, reminding me of the tables I’d seen all around Taormina, constructed from the stone of Mount Etna. The table was on top of a bright rug, and the wall behind the table had pictures and paintings from floor to ceiling, arranged in a way that made it appear to be a single piece of art.
I wasn’t ashamed to admit I was intimidated.
I followed behind him and Medusa, moving past a large sitting room with several couches on an expensive rug, with an enormous TV on onewall. There were two statues in the room, one that appeared to be Venus, goddess of love and beauty, and then Minerva, goddess of wisdom. I’d noticed statues throughout his residence, pots and paintings, works of art that didnotlook like replicas.
I trailed behind him, seeing a full dining table that could seat ten people in one room, and then we made it to his actual bedroom, which had a bed that was definitely bigger than a king. Custom made so he had plenty of room for him and his dog ... and his guests. Another smaller sitting area was off to the side of the room near a fireplace with a TV on the wall. The bed frame had Roman soldiers engraved directly into the wood, and the matching dressers had the same design.
When I peeked into the bathroom, I saw a room with a large shower, a bathtub that was more like a small pool, a private sauna, and two separate vanity counters on opposite sides of the space.
I occasionally rubbed shoulders with wealthy people through work. Saw them arrive at events in Bentleys and Ferraris. Saw their expensive watches, recognized the high-end brands they wore. But I knew I’d never encountered a single person as rich as Constantine. Rich wasn’t even the right word.
I walked to the window and looked outside, seeing the extent of his property. He had expansive gardens that reached to the wall, and I could see more sections of the building we were in, but he had other, separate buildings too. One that looked identical to the Pantheon, just on a smaller scale, and then another that looked like the Temple of Saturn from the Roman Forum.
The property itself, in the heart of Rome like this, had to be worth ... a billion euros.
And it belonged to one man.
“Let’s take a shower and have lunch.”
I turned away from the windows and looked at him. How was this billionaire so ... so normal? So down to earth? How could someone so rich care enough about other people to put his life on the line? “Uh, sure.”
“Got other plans?” When he moved past the bed, Medusa jumped on it like it was where she slept every night. Constantine absentmindedly petted her, then gave her a kiss on the head—like he did it so often he didn’t think about it.
I’d never had a dog, but seeing the way he treated her made my heart gush. “No.”
“Then why are you being weird?” he asked bluntly as he walked up to me.
“I’m being weird?”
He cocked his head slightly. “A little.”
“Well, if I’m being honest—”
“Always be honest with me. Never mince your words.”
