Her eyes widen at the intrusion, and her pussy flutters as I push deeper inside. A soft whimper rises from her throat and I bite theshell of her ear as a second finger joins the first. “That’s why you fucked me that night when you should’ve run.”
I start to move. She shudders again, and this time, pleasure sends her body pressing into mine.
“That’s the real reason why you haven’t told a single fucking person.” I breathe against her temple, my fingers never slowing inside her. “And that’s why you aren’t telling me to stop.”
Her mouth falls open as if to dispute me, but the only sound that tumbles out is a quiet rasping gasp. Her brows furrow, but she doesn’t close her eyes as she glares at me while I finger-fuck her against the wall.
“That’s…” she chokes out.
“Don’t you even think about lying,piccola.” My fingers pump faster between her legs. “Not when you’re fucking soaking my hand right now.”
“I…” She rides my hand shamelessly, pussy fluttering around my fingers and her clit pressed against my palm. “You…”
"Go on,piccola,” I say. “Scream.”
I feel her orgasm build for a moment, and then it overwhelms her. She throws her head back, and her mouth opens for the beautiful ragged cry that I’ve been dying to hear again for ninety-one days.
But that’s when a sudden knock comes to the door.
I clamp my hand over her mouth to muffle the scream.
“Only me,piccola.” I curl my fingers and feel her clench desperately around them. Her moan breaks against my palm. "You scream for me and no one else."
Her body rocks and trembles against my hand. Her eyes roll into the back of her head. Her fists dissolve into desperate, clinging fingers against my chest, and her hips roll faster and faster as she rides out the last waves of pleasure.
When the aftershocks finally ease, I slide my hand off her mouth and ease my fingers out of her pussy. She sags against the wall, chest heaving, looking at me like she hates me and wants me to do it again in equal measure.
I bring my hand to my mouth and lick my fingers clean, savoring just how fucking sweet she tastes. She shoves me away and slides down the wall on watery knees. Her cheeks are flushed, and her chest shakes with each unsteady breath.
When she finds her voice, quivering and soft, she asks, “You got your answer, Don Nico. Now will you let me go?”
“Let you go?” I kneel down and tip her chin up at me. “When one word from you can destroy me? Never.”
She blinks as she processes what I just told her. "Then what exactly are you planning to do with me?"
“Simple,piccola.” A reckless idea takes shape in my head. "I’m going to marry you.”
4
LYDIA
As I sit thereon the floor with his words still circling my skull like water around a drain, I decide that maybe Nico D’Ambrosio is God’s way of punishing me for a crime that I haven’t quite yet committed.
He takes without asking, and when he decides something, the world is expected to arrange itself around the decision.
Just my luck that he decides that what he’s going to take is me.
Little bursts of aftershocks and pleasure shiver through me every time I move. My clothes feel like rasping sandpaper against my skin, still sensitive and humming from the orgasm that he pulled from me.
So, the only thing I can do is sit there and wait for my heartbeat to return to a semblance of normal, and wait for the strength to flow back into my legs.
I hate that when he gave me the chance to tell him to stop, I refused it.
I hate how much my body enjoyed what he did.
But most importantly, I hate how badly I wanted him to do more.
Alotmore.
