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The Italian Obsession

Page 240

by T.L. Swan

Sergio shakes his head. “I-I didn’t… I wasn’t… I mean.”

Enrico reaches up and grabs him around the throat, and he squeezes hard. The men and I all take a collective gasp as our eyes widen.

“If I see you look at Olivia like that again,” he sneers in a whisper. “I’m going to hang you by your feet.” He tightens his grip around his neck. “I’m going to cut your fucking throat and watch you bleed out. Do you understand?”

Chapter 29

OLIVIA

“Enrico.” I gasp. “Calm down.”

He doesn’t calm. He keeps his grip around Sergio’s neck and tightens it even more.

“Let’s go inside,” I urge.

Enrico glares at Sergio. I’m not sure if he’s about to completely lose it and actually strangle him for real.

“Enrico,” I repeat. “Let’s go… now.” I rub his back as a silent reminder that I’m here. He pushes Sergio back, releasing him from his viselike grip.

“Get out of my sight. Go downtown and look after the club. You’re not to come to my home or be near Olivia again.”

Sergio drops his head, his face filled with shame.

“Do you understand me?” Enrico barks.

“Yes, sir.”

Enrico glares at him, and I know he isn’t finished with this conversation, but right now, I need to defuse this situation. I grab his hand and pull him away.

“Come on.”

Enrico walks inside and I close the door behind us. His jaw is clenched and he’s raging mad. I look around at the Lake Como house. It’s familiar, grand, and beautiful. It feels like a long time since we’ve been here.

He takes his suit jacket off and then jerks his tie hard as he removes it. He throws them both to the side. I watch him, knowing this isn’t about Sergio. There is something else going on, I can feel it.

“Don’t worry about Sergio. Don’t let him get to you,” I say softly.

He storms past me to the bar, and with a shaky hand, he pours himself a drink. He tips his head back and drains his glass only to refill it straight away.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

He drags his hand down his face. “Baby, talk to me,” I urge him.

He takes me into his arms and holds me tight—so tight, I may snap. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t have to. He needs my comfort. I can feel that need pouring out of him.

“Just work things. It’s nothing for you to worry about,” he eventually murmurs.

I slowly slide my hand down over his broad chest as I kiss him slowly. His eyes close at the contact. “You’re home now, Rici,” I whisper against his lips. “It’s okay, baby. Forget work.” I slide my hand down lower and cup his penis through his pants. I feel it slowly begin to grow. “Let’s get you relaxed, shall we?”

His face softens as he returns my kiss.

I undo his suit pants and slide my hand down to cup his balls. They’re heavy, hard, and engorged. “Look how full you are,” I whisper up at him as I give him a long stroke. “No wonder you’re stressed.”

His lips take mine and I can feel his stress begin to evaporate.

I stroke him slowly as we kiss. His breath is quivering, and I know he’s already close to the edge.

His hands move to my shoulders and he pushes me down to my knees. I smile as he slides his pants down a little. His large cock hangs heavily between his legs.