Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
You’d think the knowledge would be scary, but my body acts the opposite. It doesn’t receive the orders sent by my brain, nor does it care how fast he entraps me in his world. It wants to be claimed by him. Owned. It wants him in any way it can get him.
Giovanni knows this. He’s as cocky as he is confident, exposing this afternoon’s foray will be an hours-long event.
With my ass dangling off the edge of the table, and my legs wrapped loosely around Giovanni’s waist, he teasingly pushes the tip of his cock inside me.
I suck at him, begging him to stay, when he commences retreating before he’s even given me three inches.
“Tell me again, dolcezza.” He rewards me with another teasing push. “What happens when you run from me?”
I’m already on the verge of begging, so I don’t hold back the words sitting on the tip of my tongue. “You fuck me.”
“No.” His one word is a growl, and it scorches my skin. “I have to catch you before I can fuck you.” He stuffs his cock in further this time, doubling the sweat coating my skin. “Is that why you ran? Because you want me to chase you?”
I shake my head, too overwhelmed by how good he feels—even with only taking part of him—to portray calm.
Giovanni thrusts in halfway, then withdraws to the tip. “Then why?”
“I…” I stop, unsure I can have this conversation while vulnerable. Jealousy is an ugly disease, and I let it control my emotions once already today. It won’t happen again.
“You?” Giovanni pushes, never one to back down. When he spots the determination building in my eyes, he lowers his hand to my clit and circles it at the same dangerously slow speed he enters me. “Why, dolcezza? Why did you run?”
“Because you…” I raise my hips when those two words reward me with another two inches, trying to take more.
Giovanni slaps down my hips before he pulls out entirely.
“No!” I shout, devastated. I want him. Need him. I feel empty without him, both in my pussy and my chest.
I can’t tell him that, though. I hardly know him, so how can I expect him to believe I’m already developing feelings for him without making it seem like I only want him for his money?
“Tell me why, dolcezza!”
“Because you… because you…” I stumble while trying to think of a lie. Nothing but the truth formulates. “Because you didn’t come home last night! That’s why I ran. You told them to put me in your room, but then you stayed out all night!”
He slams home with one thrust, and the table legs groan in protest of our combined weights. I lean into his tight, muscular body as it drives into me on repeat. He fucks like a wild animal, his hips pistoning as fast as bursts of air puff from his nose.
He pounds into me. Over and over. Taking everything and giving me just as much.
My vision blurs as an orgasm more powerful than any I’ve felt before gathers inside me.
Giovanni seems pleased by my response. Euphoric.
Anyone would swear I handed him the keys to the castle.
And then it dawns. I told him he didn’t come home.
Home. The place where someone lives permanently, particularly with a family member or spouse.
Like a coward, I attempt to backtrack on my confession. “I… I… I…” Giovanni’s brutal pounding won’t let me. He screws me senseless, readjusting my position every time the sweat on my neck dampens a smidge.
He never stops. He pushes me over the edge with a beautifully brutal intensity that proves what my head doesn’t want to acknowledge.
He owns me.
21
GIOVANNI
Right now, Valentina doesn’t resemble the nickname I chose for her. How could she when my cock is driving into her, making her pussy lips red and swollen, and our intermingled sweat is rolling down her chest and gathering in her belly button? She is a Sicilian goddess. Her dark hair starkly contrasts against the faded varnish of her aunt’s wooden table, and although her breasts are still concealed by her shirt, they jerk up her chest with every rock of my hips.
Cum gathers at the base of my dick, but I can’t stop myself from touching her. I roll her clit with my thumb while my free hand rights the injustice of her fantastic tits being locked away.
I tug at her blouse without remorse, unconcerned when I pop several buttons. The way Valentina has been living—week to week, paycheck to paycheck—is over now.
She’ll want for nothing now that she’s mine. I’ll give her the world.
I just need to get over my worry that eventually she’ll run and I’ll never find her.
When Matteo called to advise that Valentina wasn’t in her room when he went to collect her for breakfast, panic clawed at my chest. His voice was strained with urgency, as if he wasn’t yet convinced the bratva no longer trafficked women.