When he stops jerking, he pulls me entirely off his cock. He releases my hair and I settle back on my heels, my mouth full of his come.
He sits up and cups a hand beneath my chin.
“Spit.”
I blink at him. He wants me to spit out his come?
“Come on Pfeiffer,” he says softly. “You did fucking good. Unbelievable for your first time. You don’t have to swallow it. Spit.”
I arch a brow and slowly shake my head. His eyes widen.
Then I take a long, deep breath and swallow it all down. He watches me, stunned, as I lick my lips then wipe the back of my hand across my mouth.
His eyes go black and his nostrils flare.
“Stick out your tongue.”
“You don’t believe me?” I ask, then I open my mouth and let him see how come-free it is now.
Before I know what’s happening, he’s on his hands and knees, my hair is wrapped in a tight fist and he’s yanking my head back. He leans over me, tilts his head and licks his tongueacross the entire length of mine. Then he closes his teeth over my bottom lip and bites it just enough to sting.
While I lift my fingers to my lips, he’s back on his feet, pulling up his slacks.
Then, as awareness claws its way back to me, I realize I’m sitting in a pool of green satin, one foot back in high school feeling powerless and vulnerable, the other in the here and now, feeling like power is in reach and everything is possible.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Fiero
Twenty-three nights to go.
I turnmy back as she stands, her fingers still caressing the lip I just bit. I can’t look at her anymore. She just swallowed me down like a prize and it made the caveman in me want to own every fucking inch of her.
And I can’t.
Because I’m supposed to hate her.
I’m not supposed to remember every small encounter we had as kids, when all it took was a smile from her pretty, freckled face to make my teenage heart swell to twice its size. When a brush of her arm against mine in the lunch hall would elicit a crack of electricity through every bone.
It was more than a crush. She was like me. We’d both lost our moms. We were both kind of outsiders in that way. She walked to school like hundreds of other kids, while I came upfrom Jersey everyday just so my dad could say I went to a particular school on the lower east side.
Berman High wasn’treputablebut it had a reputation. All the mob kids went there. Kids of mobsters that the Di Santo’s eventually pushed south.
It took me weeks to build up the courage to talk to her, and I only did once. That was all it took to turn my whole fucking life upside down.
That’s what I need to hold onto—the memory of what she did. I need to remember this woman is the exact same person I knew back then. It doesn’t matter how sweet she tastes, how much I love the feel of her pussy tightening around my tongue, or how damn good she licks my cock, especially when dressed in the closest gown I could find to the one she wore to her prom—the same prom I had to watch through CCTV footage around the venue because I wasn’t invited.
Doesn’t matter how traitorously beautiful she’s become, how kind she is to my staff, how submissive she is when I get her alone.
She’s a little whore whose actions turned me into Il Diavolo.
“You can go,” I say, monotone, my back still turned.
I listen to the sound of her hands smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress from where she’s been kneeling at my feet, and the tip tap of the heels I had Vivienne buy for my little pet. The door opens and there’s a pause before it closes again. If she’s waiting on a backward glance, she’s going to be waiting a long time.
I pull on the jacket I’d discarded over a chair and pour myself a shot of grappa, then tip it down my throat. Harsh realizations call for harsh liquor. I brought her here to punish her, so that’s exactlywhat I intend to do.
I’m sittingin my office when I feel Remo’s gaze heating the side of my face. “Something on your mind?”
