Chapter Four
Marco pulled her to the edge of the bed, then slid out of it himself. He wanted to play with her breasts, but it’d be easier if he didn’t crush her with his weight. So, he positioned himself in front of her, and she took the hint, cupping her tits and pressing them together in an irresistible offer.
His blood rushed hot and thick to the tip of his cock, where pre-cum bubbled as his underside veins expanded. He wouldn’t last long, but merda, he needed to last for her. Smiling, she loosened her grip on her tits, just so he could thrust his dick in between the fleshy mounds.
Oh, the sensations engulfing him… He could die now, with his cock nicely squeezed between her silky, firm tits, and he’d be absolutely okay with that. He stared at her, unwilling to jerk away his gaze. She was a showstopper. A blush covered her face, her eyes were semi-closed, yet she still managed to look at him as if she wanted to learn how to please him. He swallowed; his throat had never been this dry or thick. He moved his dick on her, heat radiating from her chest.
A groan or two escalated from the depth of his lungs. Soon, she massaged her tits on him, the jism from his tip a natural moisturizer. He clasped her hands, showing her exactly how he liked her to touch him, guiding her. He increased the pressure, the rhythm, enjoying how her blush deepened but she kept looking at him, her eyes darkening to a Christmas-tree green.
“You know what? I want to taste you, too,” she said, and before he replied, she’d palmed his rod and dipped down.
He threw his head back, his temples throbbing with excitement. She licked his length, her tongue lazily gliding on his cock. Meanwhile, she cupped his hard, heavy balls, putting just enough pressure to get him to growl.
“You’re a naughty girl, aren’t you? You like it dirty.”
“I like it dirty with you,” she said, then resumed provoking him, this time running the tip of her tongue along his rod.
Dio. She worked him to the point of no return. He was a breath away from coming, and the thought played in his mind. How delicious would it be to release himself inside her sinful mouth, while she kept her sexy eyes on his, swallowing every last drop of his seed? The image sent a spasm through him. He would fuck her mouth again and give her a good, hot load, but not this time. He touched her wrists, pulling her away from his rod, and said, “Get on your hands and knees.”
“So bossy,” she said, but did as told.
“Batman didn’t get to where he was by being nice now, did he?”
“Point taken.”
She splayed her hands and knees on the mattress.
“Lift your ass up.”
She glanced over her shoulders. “You’re out of control.”
He brushed her belly, and she quivered, her back arching. What a sight. Sighing, he watched her for a moment in complete silence, tension stretching the air between them. He didn’t want to ever forget this moment, even when she was long gone from his life. He hoped, even, that despite the unavoidable outcome at the end of their contract, he’d keep the sweet image of the gorgeous woman surrendering to him, with her delectable breasts bouncing down, her strawberry-shaped ass in the air.
Later, when the contract ended, she’d be indifferent to him, and maybe he’d feel the same way toward her. She might even foolishly try to get more out of him. Right now, he’d enjoy every second in her presence…every minute he’d bought.
“Is my ass so big you’re changing your mind?” she asked in a light tone, yet he sensed nervousness in her voice.
“Your ass, like the rest of you, is overwhelmingly perfect,” he said, nudging her thighs farther apart. “In the near future, I’ll give it all the attention it deserves.” The idea of plunging into her back entrance until he exploded teased him, but he knew he’d have to ease into that with Lily. He wanted to make it enjoyable for her, to have her rough moans filling the room.
Now, he’d focus on the wet, tight pussy he’d touched. He played with her folds just enough to confirm how much she wanted him to screw her. His gut clenched, his body throbbing for release. If he waited longer, he’d come in his hands.
He pulled her woman lips apart and plunged into her. She gasped, and for a moment her back arched, like she was getting used to having him inside her again. He took a sharp intake of breath, reveling in the exquisite sensation of her walls clinging to him without any barriers. Having sex without a condom wasn’t something he did often, but with Lily… He had to give in to the raw need to claim her completely, free from any restraints. “Fuck, baby you’re so tight. So tight and perfect. If I wasn’t a second from coming, I’d suck your pussy all over again,” he said truthfully. He’d loved her musky scent, the way her tender flesh responded to his tongue.
He leaned over her and searched for her clit.
“Oh, yes. Right there. Touch me, Marco.”
Damn, he liked it when she called his name with such urgency. Her plea encouraged him to delay his own pleasure—as much as he could—and tease her, rubbing his thumb on the nub.
“So good,” she said, breathless.
Now that she was distracted, he moved his rod inside her, earning another moan. He retreated, and when he thrust into her, he tapped her button with his finger, furthering the torment.
“This is… I feel so complete. Like you’re inside all of me.”
Her words pumped adrenaline into his bloodstream, dizzying his head for a moment. Complete. His heart skipped a beat. Damn it, that’s how he felt, too. Like nothing else mattered as long as he buried himself inside her. Snap out of it, man. He blinked and continued the naughty dance in and out of her, gradually upping his rhythm. “One day, I’ll fuck both your holes. I’ll ram my cock into your gorgeous ass while working a vibrator into your greedy pussy,” he said, needing the safety net of dirty talking.
“That sounds so good. But won’t it hurt me?”
“I’ll make sure you’re more than ready when it happens. Will you let me, Lily? Will you let me fuck you any way I can?” he said, his body rigid with tension.
She rocked her hips into his cock. “Yes. God, yes. I’m coming from talking about it.”
Strands of a powerful, exhilarating climax moved through him. Furiously. Madly. “I’m stuffing your cunt with my cum, baby,” he said, breathing out. “All for you. Do you want it?”
“Yes. Yes, please. Oh, God,” she said, and quivered, finding her own peak.
Driven to the brink, he let go, and his body shook as he exploded inside her. Joy stirred him, a powerful force that he had never experienced before. He slammed into her one last time, feeling every ounce of strength deserting him as he released himself deep inside her. That organic exchange, so simple and raw, caused him to smile.
Gradually, she lowered her body, and he realized he was too heavy for her, so he eased her onto the mattress and rolled to the side.
He ran his hand down his face. His heart carried on the frenetic beating for longer than he cared to count.
“I can’t move. I’m destroyed,” she said. “Can you wrap me in the sheet like a burrito and hand me to your driver?”
“What makes you think my driver is up this late?”
“Or request an Uber. That might be better. I need to hit a drive-through, anyway. I’m starving.”
Starving. He slid out of bed and slipped on lounging pants. Then he walked around the bed. She remained still, with her ass in full view, her head to the side. Smiling, he wrapped the sheet around her.
“What, what are you doing?” she asked, her eyes reaching her hairline.
“I’m following your command, tesoro,” he said, amusement dripping from his voice. If his employees, or hell, if his brother heard him talking this way, they’d deem him a lunatic. He lifted her from the bed, and she clutched the sheet to cover herself.
“I wasn’t speaking literally. I can wear clothes before I leave.”
He made his way out of his room, and only when he reached the kitchen did he put her on the stool at the marbled island. “There.”
“Where’s my ride?” she asked.
“Do you really think I’d let my driver or anyone else see you like this?” He bet the new guy would drool if he saw her so adorably bare. A possessiveness he wasn’t used to—not when it came to women—poked him. Nonsense. Blaming it on his post-sex haze, he willed the sentiment away.
“Well, I don’t want to overstay my welcome. The contract didn’t specify sleepovers. I’m assuming that after the deed is done, you’ll want me out of your hair. You know, to keep this real and not like the Shakespearean poems.”
She had a point. Sleepovers could blur the lines quickly… Unless, of course, they did little sleeping. “I think there’s a wide range between reality and love sonnets.”
“True.”
He kissed her nose then ran his finger along her cheek. “Besides, it’s my duty to feed you. I helped you burn calories. Now let’s replenish them.”
…
Lily wrapped the sheet tighter around her. She sat on a tall stool in front of the large marbled island. “What do you have in that big, bad fridge?” she asked, pointing at the stainless-steel monstrosity with a built-in TV on the door. Everything in his kitchen was modern, white, and pristine.
He leaned onto the island, his fingers drumming the smooth surface. “What do you want?”
She cleared her throat. Her pussy still throbbed from the sex aftermath, a tingle filling her breasts. Maybe she should have taken an Uber and just left. Why did he waste time being nice to her? They’d had sex, and now they had nothing to talk about. Unless they screwed again. “If I say clam chowder or grits, is it going to magically appear before me?”
His lips broke into a smile that clawed its way into her heart and squeezed it. “I can have it delivered.”
“I bet,” she said, then chewed on her lip.
For a moment, they stared at each other without words to distract them. Ever since she was a kid, she’d always won stare wars because she managed to keep from laughing or blinking for the longest time. Her forgotten talent came in handy as she fought hard not to lean over the island and kiss him.
“I have an idea,” he said, breaking contact first. “Are you allergic to seafood?”
She shook her head.
“Good. I’ll make you one my specialties,” he said, and turned around to fetch two pots from the cupboard.
She watched him get some organic, expensive-looking pasta from the pantry, as well as spices from the rack, and start working the stove. “Do you cook for all your, er, purchased lovers?” she asked, regretting her question the second it flew from her mouth. What else could she call herself?
He tossed her a glance over his shoulder then opened the freezer and produced a bag with precooked shrimp and scallops. Really, it shouldn’t matter what he did with other women, anyway. A lot of guys were douches and pretended to be something they were not. At least with Marco, she knew what to expect from day one.
“I’ve had girlfriends before. You’re my first purchased, temporary lover.”
The confession brought a silly reassurance to her. She crossed her legs in a vain effort to keep her essence from seeping through the sheet and staining his stool. “Don’t you say that to all of them?”
“No. I always put contracts in place, even with girlfriends, to protect my interests. But this is the first time I’ve signed a contract with much tighter clauses.”
“So you don’t pay your girlfriends for sex?” She admired the way his bare back glowed under the kitchen lights. His gorgeous, dark olive complexion enhanced the well-defined muscles and wide shoulders. Black lounging pants outlined his perfect ass.
“No.”
“Then why contracts?” she asked, curious. It wasn’t like he was marrying them and needed a prenup.
He continued to cook, but she didn’t miss how his muscles tensed for a bit. He probably didn’t get asked these things every day. Maybe she should leave this get-to-know-me question for later. Sure, they were hooking up, but did that mean she had to keep it super light all the time? Without giving in to curiosity?
“It’s okay. You don’t have to answer,” she said. She didn’t need to read a Booty Call 101 textbook to sense his uneasiness.
He shrugged and turned to her, peering at her with those gorgeous brown eyes yet still managing not to give away much. “Contracts help me keep things in perspective. I don’t want to disappoint anyone who’s thinking I’ll give them what I’m not interested in giving. I don’t lie, Lily. Besides, the confidentiality agreement ensures people won’t be writing things about me, or posting on social media.”
She drummed her fingers on the marbled counter. Behind all that overconfidence lurked the fear of compromising, which was even worse than commitment. At least in bed, she mused inwardly, Marco was a giver. “Isn’t it boring, though? To know exactly how each of your relationships will evolve? Or in your case, not evolve?”
He opened a drawer and fetched silverware. “Contracts may be the same, but people aren’t,” he said, and continued to fumble with plates and other appliances. Her father always cleaned when issues at the church worried him, or he needed a breather. He hated cleaning, so whenever she or her mother found him wiping the kitchen countertops or dusting the shelves, they knew something bothered him.
“Truth. Why did you invite me to go on a trip and not one of your girlfriends?” she asked, her gaze following his movements even if he didn’t stop to answer.
He grabbed the napkin holder and put it on the island. How many other objects would he move until she finished this conversation? “I did invite a girlfriend first. An ex. But she didn’t take to the idea of pretending we were engaged after only dating for a few months.”
“Oh. Do you miss her?”
“No,” he said without hesitation.
The same way he won’t miss me when I’m gone. “Because you don’t get attached?”
He produced a wine bottle from the fridge and opened it. “Because I knew what to expect.”
She toyed with the fork he’d arranged in front of her. “I guess I see a point. I always hope for the best and sometimes get kicked to the curb. I thought I’d be with my first boyfriend Harry forever. But after three years together, he slept with this girl from work.”
“He was an idiot. But his loss is my gain,” he said, filling two glasses of wine.
“That’s right. A one-month gain,” she said, emphasizing the amount of time they’d have together—if not to him, to herself.
He handed her a glass. “Cheers.”
She enjoyed the straightforward light white wine with a fruity note. While he finished cooking the pasta, sautéing the shrimp and scallops in a sauce that teased her nostrils, she mused. Growing up, her parents always emphasized that sex was an act of love. Her father, more conservative, linked intercourse to marriage, family, commitment. Her mother thankfully, kept up with the times, but she still taught her one didn’t screw another without special feelings involved. Certainly not for money.
They had a point, but why shouldn’t she find out for herself? If anyone could teach her a thing or two about walking on the wild side, Marco Giordano fit the bill. Hell to the yes.
When he put a plate of angel hair pasta with shaved cheese and seafood in front of her, she breathed in the exquisite aroma. “This looks amazing.”
He slid into the seat next to her, bringing his own plate. She never expected him to cook so well. She took bite after bite of the delicious dish, the spices and flavor scintillating in her mouth.
“It tastes amazing.”
He angled close enough that his breath brushed her hair, sending a gazillion thrills through her. “So do you.”
To dispel the tension, she twirled a good amount of angel hair onto her fork and brought it to her mouth. She didn’t need to look at him to feel his gaze on her. She’d wrapped the sheet around her like a sarong, but now, as her chest rose and fell due to heavy breathing, the top suffocated her.
She clumsily tried to veer the conversation toward current events and politics, a subject certain to cool things down. They happened to agree on a lot of stances, and now she wished they didn’t.
Finally, she dabbed her mouth on the napkin after finishing the food. She turned her face to him, glad to see him done as well. “Thanks for doing all this,” she said, wondering if now would be a good time to put on her clothes and jet. She wanted to stay, but also had to be one step ahead of him to keep her feelings in check.
Marco’s finger outlined the knot she’d made in the sheet. “You’re welcome. How about some dessert?” he asked, undoing the knot, and soon, the sheet swooshed away from her, leaving her completely naked on the stool. Bare.
How in the world could she take a month of this without getting attached?