CHAPTER SEVEN
I kicked my legs over the back of the couch, studying the new pedicure I’d gotten that afternoon. After Cristiano dropped me off at my apartment closer to sunrise than sunset, I’d collapsed into bed and slept until noon. Waking at that hour made me groggy beyond belief, but I was more than just that, and I couldn’t be bothered with paying attention to a petty thing like being tired. There were more important things going on.
I was beside myself with glee.
It was insane, really, how fast I was suddenly falling for Cristiano. And though I didn’t want to be a Debbie Downer, I was afraid the other shoe had to be dropping at some point. Could people really fall so hard and heavy without there being some sort of negative consequence?
Or was the thing I’d just stumbled into different somehow? Was I just one of those few lucky people who found themselves in a romance that not only seemed perfect, but kept on being perfect?
Did those even exist? Or was I thinking of books and movies, and not real life at all?
I looked at the coral paint on my nails, wiggling my toes for effect. I’d been in love once. At least I’d thought it was love. It happened two years before, when I had the luck — or the stupidity — of getting involved with a recently divorced guy. Jared and I dated for a few months, during which time I fell hard. When he announced to me that he wasn’t ready for anything serious, I was crestfallen. I kept holding on, though, thinking things had to change someday.
One day, I told myself. He’ll be ready.
One day turned into half a year, and then he moved to Wisconsin because his ex-wife’s job was relocating her and Jared needed to follow to the new town for the sake of their two kids.
No more divorced guys, I told myself after that. At least not unless they’ve been legally free for a few years or more and don’t have an ex-spouse who’s on the verge of moving the kids to a different state. That was my extremely specific ultimatum, put in place in a desperate attempt to protect myself from men who weren’t emotionally available. I couldn’t stop a guy I’d fallen for from moving away — so that made the second part of my promise to myself harder to stick to — but maybe I could be smarter and fall for men who didn’t feel screwed up by a marriage gone awry.
But Cristiano had never been married. Cristiano had lived a life quite the opposite. I knew because on the drive home the night before we talked a bit about past relationships. The impression I’d gotten was that he’d never been in anything he would consider serious and committed, other than the girl he broke up with about a year ago. The way he talked about her, though, it seemed he didn’t have any regrets. They’d dated for a couple years, and it kind of sounded like it had been like mine and Derek’s situation. They were good together, but not perfect. Not soul mates.
I twisted my lips and thought about the women in the pictures on the internet, the beautiful leggy girls draped all over his arms. And though I was becoming increasingly aware of how I felt about Cristiano, it was impossible to tell how he felt about me.
I wasn’t model beautiful like those women. Oddly enough, that gave me some comfort, because perhaps that meant Cristiano wasn’t interested in me purely for aesthetic and lustful reasons.
We had plans that night for dinner at his place, and I couldn’t wait to drive over there and check out his home. Was it a mega apartment overlooking the whole city? Or was it, rather ironically, a quaint apartment not much different from my own?
My phone buzzed from its perch on the coffee table. I grabbed it without looking to see who called and hit answer.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Blaire, honey.”
“Hi, Mom.”
“You sound upset. Is something wrong?”
“What? Oh! No, I just...” Thought it was a hot, bronzed sex god calling.
“Is it because of work? How’s it going with Evie’s cousin? Michael is it? Did he get you anything? You know, I saw an ad in the paper this morning about pet sitting. I thought to myself that might be something fun you could do. Just to fill your time.”
I yanked my legs back over the couch and sat up straight. “That sounds nice,” I lied, not interested in pet sitting in the slightest but also not wanting to hurt her feelings. “But I don’t think I have time for that. Michael has been really helpful. Actually, he’s gotten me something. I’m working for him now.”
“Oh, honey! That’s great.”
“Yeah, it is.”
“What is it?”
“It’s a... a secretary job in his office.” I crossed my fingers to offset the lie.
“That sounds nice, Blair. Wait, but when did you start?”
“Um, well it’s kind of been a while. It’s just part-time, that’s why I didn’t tell you.”
A short silence followed.
“But I don’t understand,” she finally said, sounding hurt and confused. “Why not?”
“Because...” I sucked in a sharp breath. Oh God. I’d gone too far. Why, oh why was I lying to my mother?
Because she worried too much, that’s why, and I didn’t need to be another thing on her list of stuff to worry about. Putting literal miles between us was supposed to help with both her anxiety and my independence.
So I was telling her what she needed to think. I’d gotten good at that during my years in the army, when my occupation had made her even more anxious about my well-being. I was good at twisting things, leaving out bits and pieces of information while not full-out lying. I was shamefully good at it.
I was also telling her what I needed her to think. Making up a story about work was a new thing for me. Actually, to be blunt, it was a big lie, but at least it came with good intentions. At least my mom might be able to calm down, might stop texting me every other day to see how the job hunt was going.
“I thought you might not think it was a good enough job,” I dumbly finished. “Since it’s just a secretarial position. I didn’t want you to think that I was settling or something like that.”
She made a tittering noise. “No, I don’t think that... I mean... it’s good, Blaire. It sounds nice, but I just wonder what it is you really want to do. Do you have any idea?”
I studied the manicure I’d gotten to match the pedi. I wanted to take a break. That’s what I wanted to do. Life had been non-stop since I was fifteen, first with my dad dying and me having to step up to the plate and help my mom through, and then with joining the army right out of high school.
All along the way, I’d been trying to figure out just who I was.
I felt like I was getting closer, especially with all of the recent events in my life, but I still had my doubts.
“I’m figuring it out.”
So at least that statement contained nothing but truth.
“That’s fine, Blaire. You’ve already done so much. It can be good to take some time to do that. Find yourself, as they say, you know?”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “True.”
“When are you coming to see me?”
“Um, this weekend, maybe? I’m volunteering at the orphanage most Saturdays now.”
“That’s good,” she murmured. “That’s good. Well, what are you doing tonight?”
“I’m...” Thinking about keeping another thing from you... for some reason.
But I couldn’t. The best and newest thing happening in my life was Cristiano. I wanted to climb up the city’s tallest skyscraper and shout about it from the rooftops.
“I’m having dinner at this guy’s house.”
“Really?”
“Really. Really.”
“One of Derek’s friends?”
“Oh. Uh, no.” Damn. I hadn’t even told her about us breaking up.
“One of Evie’s friends?”
“No, just someone I know. Someone I met at the orphanage.”
“And what does Derek think of that?”
“We’re not together anymore, so he’s got nothing to think about it.”
“Oh...”
“It just happened.”
I could almost hear her heart breaking over the line.
I sighed. “Mom, I’m not trying to keep things from you. I’m sorry if it seems like that. There’s just been a lot going on lately, and everything is happening at once.”
“New job, new boyfriend... I know you have your own life, Blaire, I just... it’s my own fault, really. I guess I forgot that you’re not seventeen anymore.”
I bit my bottom lip, wishing I could go back in time and call her the day before, and the day before that. I wished I hadn’t been such a bad daughter the last couple weeks.
“Cristiano’s not my boyfriend,” I said softly, keeping to myself the fact that I hoped one day he would be. “We haven’t known each other that long.”
“What’s he like?” she asked, sounding more cheerful.
“He’s...” There were no words.
Mom chuckled. “If you’re speechless, then I know he has to be something special.”
“Yeah,” I slowly said, smiling. “I think so, but we’ll see.”
“I guess I should let you go. I need to get a move on anyway. Lee Ann is picking me up. We’re going to the new yoga class at the senior center.”
“That sounds nice. Hey, Mom, I’m sorry that I’ve been kind of MIA. I’ll come and see you soon. I promise.”
“Okay, honey,” she softly said. “I can’t wait.”
“Bye. I love you.”
“I love you.”
I hung up, my ears buzzing.
***
The blue dot appeared on my GPS’s screen, signaling the found destination.
“Sweet,” I breathed, doing one last check. “Purse... phone...”
I turned my car on and pulled out of the parking garage and onto the street, into the hazy twilight. The flow of traffic got steadier, carrying me towards downtown. I turned up the music and tapped my finger on the steering wheel, feeling giddier with each block.
Surely it was a good sign that Cristiano asked me to his place the very next day after we hooked up. Though Evie and I basically had a whole conversation about the biology of sex, and getting attached to men too soon, and whatnot, I didn’t regret my decision to have sex with him. Hands down, it felt like one of the most right things I’d ever done.
I was trying to not be all romantic about the situation, but damn, it was hard. The play by play of the night before that I’d given Evie over the phone after hanging up with my mom hadn’t helped. By the time I left my place for Cristiano’s, my body burned to be touched by his.
I signaled to join the turning lane to the left and looked into my rearview mirror to make sure the way was clear. Seeing it was, I nudged my way into my spot.
Hold on.
I glanced back up and into the mirror. That black SUV. It had been behind me when I turned just a few minutes before.
And hadn’t there also been a black SUV behind me when I first got on the road? Was it the same SUV?
I shook my head. It was a coincidence, that was all. There were probably a thousand black SUVs in the greater Chicago area. The real question I needed to ask myself was why was I being paranoid enough to think I was being followed.
I’m not being followed. That’s crazy. There’s no reason for anyone to follow me.
But still the muscles in my shoulders remained bunched together, and my stomach coiled like a snake preparing to attack.
I’d been in the army for too long — for the majority of my adult life so far, to be specific. I could walk around dressing and acting like a civilian all I liked, but the truth was that I was more soldier than anything else. I’d been trained to look at my surroundings in a certain way, to always be hyper-aware, and that would never go away.
And it was good.
I glanced into the rearview mirror again. The SUV was still there, but two cars behind me now.
Again. There was no reason for anyone to follow me. No reason that I knew of.
I turned the music down, hoping that lowering the volume in the car would help me think better.
It didn’t. My mind still spun like a cyclone, a fit of ideas and anxieties. None of my hypotheses really made sense, of course.
I still couldn’t think of any legit reason for anyone to follow me.
Fully into the downtown area, the GPS directed me to take a right. For a couple seconds, I thought about not doing it. If I was being followed, then I didn’t want whoever was in that SUV to know where I was going. Maybe they planned on jumping me the second I climbed out of my car. Maybe they were going to beat me up and steal everything I had, right down to my shoes.
Making a split second choice, I drove past Cristiano’s road, continuing to go straight. The GPS’s voice direction protested, telling me to turn on the next street. I ignored it and kept going straight. Two blocks later, the black SUV turned off to the left, disappearing around a high-rise.
I breathed a sigh of relief and then took the next right, making a circle and going back to Cristiano’s building. I was just being paranoid.
His block was lined with cars, but he’d told me to pull up to the front of his building and let the valet handle my car.
An apartment with valet service. Now that was something new. I’d been to apartment buildings that had doormen, of course, but never to one where my car was parked for me.
Two doormen in matching black suits and white gloves stood at attention underneath a red awning. I pulled up to the blocked off spot in front of them, then put the car in park but kept it running. Hesitantly, I opened my door just enough for me to get out but not enough for it to be smashed by passing traffic.
“Um, I’m here to see Cristiano Leventis,” I said in what I hoped was a confident voice but probably wasn’t even close.
One of the doormen was already coming forward though, a firm but pleasant smile on his face. “Yes, Ms. Daniels,” he nodded. “May I park your car for you?”
“Oh, y-yeah,” I stuttered, surprised that he knew my name.
I grabbed my purse then handed the keys over and got out of the way. The second doorman held the building’s front door open, the smile on his face matching that of his twin’s.
“Thanks,” I told him, stepping into the marble foyer. From behind a long desk, a concierge stood.
“Miss Daniels.” He nodded.
I stared at him and blinked. Okay, how did they all know my name? Obviously, they were expecting me, but was I the only guest dropping by the building all night or something?
“Hello,” I muttered back.
He smiled and spread his palm to gesture towards the elevator. There, waiting for my arrival, was another finely suited man. He pressed the button to open the elevator, and the gilded doors slid open.
I didn’t know which to be more impressed with: the fact that it took four people just to man the front door of Cristiano’s building, or the fact that they all knew me by sight.
Feeling more awkward by the second, I walked jerkily into the elevator. The operator did his job — but really, was his job even necessary? — and took us soaring up.
The floor numbers ticked by, the elevator taking us all the way to the top floor. The doors slid open in that beautiful way that made it seem like even they were special — not ordinary elevator doors, but some kind of imported ones from a tiny European country most people had probably never heard of.
“Thank you,” I told the operator, wondering if I was supposed to tip him or not. Making the wrong decision either way seemed incredibly rude. I didn’t want to give the building’s staff the wrong impression of me or have them talk smack about me to Cristiano later.
I fumbled to open my clutch, but the handle stuck. Dang vintage. The clothes were great, but the accessories had a way of unexpectedly giving out sometimes.
“You’re very welcome,” the hotel operator said, stepping back and turning away from me slightly.
Oh, well. Maybe he’ll think I’m a sleazy call girl and not expect me to tip him, I humorously thought.
I stepped over the threshold, the clicks from my high heels echoing loudly in the long hallway. The elevator closed behind me, and I spun around, something occurring to me last second.
“Wait!”
The man was gone though, and all before I’d gotten a chance to ask him which apartment was Cristiano’s. I started to pull my phone out. I hadn’t gotten an apartment number from him with his address, so I would just have to call him.
My fingers wrapped around the phone, I stopped. There were no doors in the hallway.
Wait. That couldn’t be right.
I turned to my left. There was a door.
I looked to my right. Nothing. Just the blank end of the hallway.
So there was only one option. Did Cristiano live on the entire floor?
“Damn,” I cursed under my breath. What the heck could one person do with so much space? Other than install that private gym he’d already mentioned, of course.
I stepped up to the door, wondering what lay beyond the walls passing me. A massage room? A meditation room? A music studio, put in just in case Cristiano one day got the idea to start a rock band?
By the time I got to the door and knocked, I stopped wondering. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach, filling me up with an unexpected queasiness. Despite what had already happened between us, I was still both excited and nervous to see Cristiano.
The door flew open, and there he was, a white button-up tucked into a pair of dark blue dress pants, his thick waves swept messily to one side. His amber eyes shone, and one corner of his mouth turned up.
“Hi,” I breathed.
“Hi.”
His arm swiftly wrapped around me, pulling me close. I tensed at first, surprised at the sudden embrace, but a second later, I was relaxing in his arms. His kiss swallowed me up, making me go limp like a paper doll. All nervousness transmuted into something even more powerful. Desire filled me.
Please, please, please take my clothes off right here and now.
He wouldn’t even need to worry about shutting the door. It wasn’t like anyone was going to come up to his private floor.
But instead, he broke the kiss off and stepped away. “You look beautiful. That dress is lovely.”
“Thank you.” I licked my lips, still sweet from our kissing.
“Come in.”
I did as he asked, taking just a few steps into the foyer. For such a long hallway, the space we stood in was surprisingly small. Perhaps his home wasn’t that big after all, and most of the top floor merely sat as empty space.
“Did you have any trouble finding the place?”
“Oh no, not at all. It was pretty easy.”
The black SUV briefly flashed in my mind. I definitely wasn’t going to mention it to Cristiano. There was no need for us to start things out with him wondering if I might be legitimately crazy.
I opened my mouth, thinking that instead, I’d ask why all the staff recognized me. Right before the words came out, I changed my mind. It was their job to know guests. They knew what time I’d been scheduled to arrive, and maybe Cristiano even showed them a picture of me that he’d gotten off Facebook or something. Suddenly, I felt slightly classless for even being impressed.
“It’s a beautiful night,” I said instead. “Have you been out? The temperature is perfect.”
Cristiano smiled. “No, I haven’t. I’ve been in all afternoon. If it’s so nice, maybe we should go out later.” Placing his hand on the small of my back, he steered me towards an arched doorway. Two short steps took us down into a hallway with doors branching off in both directions. Cristiano chose the one closest to us, taking me into an immaculate and shiny kitchen full of stainless steel. What smelled like peppers filled the air.
“I was just getting dinner started,” he explained, going to the kitchen island and pulling out a stool for me. “Would you like a drink?”
“Sure,” I smiled at him and took the offered seat. The cushion was so high up I almost had to climb to get into it, but once I was there, I sat up rail straight and crossed my legs, doing my best to act like a dignified lady. I’d gone for a divergence from my usual style that night, opting for high heels and a black cocktail dress. It had been a while since I went on a date where I really dressed up, and I’d felt like going all out.
Cristiano pulled open a cabinet to reveal several shelves full of liquor bottles.
“Wow,” I commented. “Looks like you have a full bar.”
He chuckled. “Close. It’s not really for me though. I have meetings at home a lot and sometimes, especially if celebration is in order, a fresh bottle of whiskey is called for... and of course, I entertain here. What would you like?”
I thought about it. “Gin and tonic?”
“Coming right up.” He winked at me and then grabbed a glass tumbler from another cabinet. With fluid and sure movements, he mixed my drink in no time and then set it in front of me. Instead of going to check on dinner, though, he stayed perched at the corner of the island and gazed down at me.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, his voice causing my belly to tingle.
I literally felt my chest swell from the joy ballooning in it. I tried to respond, but my throat had become incredibly dry. Needing to do something, I took a small sip of my drink. The sound the glass made on the counter as I put it back down seemed obnoxiously loud.
Cristiano’s pupils dilated and his hand slowly — perhaps tentatively — lifted. The very tips of his fingers brushed against my hair, smoothing it at the spot above my ear. Elation flooded my chest once more, even stronger this time.
“Me too,” I managed to croak, after realizing I hadn’t said anything yet. “I’m glad to be here too.”
That sultry hint of a smile popped up on his face. At the same time, a smokiness hit my nose.
“It smells like something’s burning.”
Cristiano spun around and leaped for the stove. Snatching up a spatula, he grabbed a large skillet from the back of the stove and started fervently stirring.
“Got it just in time,” he announced. “Don’t worry. We won’t be ordering in pizza.”
I giggled. “Anything is fine with me.”
“You don’t have any allergies do you?”
“Nope.”
“Is there anything you don’t like?”
“Nope.”
“Not even onions?”
I giggled again and clamped my mouth shut. I was so not a giggler. “Are you trying to make me not want to eat what you made?”
He reached above his head and opened a cabinet, his shirt stretching tightly across his back as he did so. “I just don’t want you to be disappointed.”
“I could never be,” I answered, perhaps a little too breathlessly.
His back still turned to me, he got busy adding more ingredients to the pan. I took the free time to let my gaze roam around the kitchen. It was perhaps the biggest one I’d ever been in, with new and sparkling appliances. The counters were clean and mostly empty, nothing on them other than the occasional appliance. Large windows sat to my right, an intricately carved and bare table resting under them.
I glanced surreptitiously over my shoulder at the doorway to my back. Through the curved archway, a long dining table held dinner settings for two.
So I’d been wrong. The whole floor had to belong to Cristiano. The kitchen alone was the size of my own kitchen, living room, and bathroom combined. His walk-in closet probably rivaled my bedroom.
“Did you have a nice day?” Cristiano asked over his shoulder, making my head snap back to attention.
“Yeah! It was great. What about you?”
“Wonderful.”
The deep vibrations of his voice pushed their way under my skin and made me throb. I cleared my throat and tried to think of anything to talk about other than how horny I was for him.
“How long have you lived here?”
“A couple years.”
“Ah. It seems...” Not cozy, certainly not cozy. “Nice,” I settled for.
“It does me well.”
I nodded, left wondering what the specific meaning of that statement was.
“You look good,” I blurted out.
He walked across the spacious floor to open the fridge and pull out some kind of fresh herb. “Thanks,” he smiled. “I think you already said that.”
I realized I was grinning like a fool. “I did, didn’t I? Oops...”
He walked back to his station at the stove, shooting me a saucy glance as he went. “So you’re just trying to be nice.”
“Can you blame me? Look at you.”
Desire filled his eyes. With barely a glance at what he was doing, he turned the heat down on the stove and lunged back across the kitchen. His broad palms pressed into my back, making me arch into him. Just like that, the mood switched, going from pleasantries and simple chit chat to blunt acknowledgment of our burning desires.
The dam broken, I lifted my chin, daring him to go ahead and do whatever was on his mind.
“You vixen,” he growled. “Are you trying to make me insane with desire before dinner has even begun?”
“That depends,” I softly replied, the confidence in me rising. Shy and nervous Blaire, the person who’d walked in on shaky heels, was gone, replaced instead by determined Blaire, a woman who knew what she wanted and was set on getting it. I placed two fingers on his chest and walked them slowly upwards towards his neck. “What exactly happens when you go insane with desire?”
Cristiano bent his head, putting his face an inch away from my throat. His breath tickled my skin, making my own breathing speed up.
“Something like this,” he whispered before placing his lips against my neck and sucking lightly.
I let out an involuntary gasp. The sucking ended.
“And this,” he added, one hand sliding around my hip and down my thigh. His fingers trailed the hem of my dress, teasing but not going any higher.
“And what else?” I asked in a shaky voice.
He smirked. He had me wound around his finger, and not only did he know it, he loved it.
“This.” Lightning quick, his hand shot up my dress and grabbed the panties between my thighs. The lace twisted, tearing slightly into my skin. I cried out, my fingers curling, my nails pressing into the fabric of his shirt. A finger pushed between my folds, driving its way into the wetness there.
“I like it when you cry out,” Cristiano said, his sweet breath drifting into my open mouth.
Quickly, he pulled his hand back and stepped away. “But you’re going to have to wait.”
I stared at him dumbly. “Wh-What?”
His face remained stony. “You’re going to have to wait.”
I licked my lips. Was this a challenge? What was he hoping I would say? Was it a fight he was looking for, or a submissive attitude?
If this was some kind of game, I was more than up to play. First I just had to figure out the roles and rules.
I lifted my chin and snapped my legs shut. “What if I’m not up to it later?”
One corner of his mouth jerked, and he took a slow step back towards me. His hand came to cup my upturned chin, holding it in the position I’d placed it. “You really think that will happen?”
My body trembled. No.
Cristiano traced his fingers along my jaw, then around the edges of my lips. My mouth instinctively opened, and his thumb slipped inside. I pressed my lips down on it and sucked hard. His amber eyes grew softer, and his lips parted, making him look like he was being pulled into a trance.
“You’re naughty,” he hissed. “I just told you later.”
I said nothing, just continued to suck on his thumb. I rolled my tongue around it, savoring the saltiness filling my mouth.
Cristiano growled.
I reached up and grabbed his hand with both of mine, pulling it away from my mouth. “And what if I don’t wait until later? What happens then?”
Cristiano’s free hand pressed down onto my thigh. “It sounds like you want to start trouble.”
I smiled coyly. “And why would I want to do that?”
He gazed heatedly at me, his expression a mixture of lust and something else I couldn’t pinpoint. Excitement? Fury? No, fury was too strong of a word. He didn’t seem angry, exactly. Maybe he was just full of adrenaline.
“Perhaps you want to be punished.”
The way he said it told me everything I needed to know. He wanted me to be punished. Specifically, he wanted to be the one doing the punishing.
But he wasn’t the only one getting a thrill from the idea. The second the last word left his mouth, my heartbeat increased. I didn’t know what punishment meant in his book, but I was eager to find out. My last two boyfriends had been pretty PC in bed, never wanting to even do so much as hold me down. For years, a part of me had yearned to meet a man who would take charge, a man who would make me his in ways I only dreamed of.
“Do it,” I gasped, staring him down.
His eyes dilated, the black depths of them shrinking then growing. “Be careful what you wish for,” he growled. Both of his hands moved back up my thighs, the fingertips crawling along. I opened my legs, eager for his touch to go to between them. With me settled on the stool and him standing, there was just enough height difference left for him to look down at me. I gulped, anticipation mixing with a slight amount of trepidation. Just what was I getting myself into?
Cristiano’s hands went back to my knees and spread them, pushing my legs open. Down went his face, to press between my thighs. Instead of taking my panties off, though, he nipped at my clit through the material. I yelped and jerked, but Cristiano held me tight, his hands still clamped onto my knees.
“That’s for being a bad girl,” he murmured into my pussy before biting me again. Pain was closely followed by pleasure, the two sensations warring with each other. Neither of them winning or losing.
I started to respond, but the sensation of his tongue swirling over my clit made me moan instead. He licked it through the sopping lace, soothing the spot he’d so aggressively just assaulted.
Straightening back up, Cristiano licked his lips and gazed at me. “Stand up.”
I gulped and lowered my heels to the floor. My knees shook, and I had to reach out and grasp hold of the island counter to keep myself up.
“Turn around,” Cristiano said, softer this time.
I went slowly, facing the kitchen window with curtains drawn over it. One large hand pressed against my lower back, rubbing softly there, while the other went up and down my thigh. Under my dress, the smooth touch went. Cristiano pulled my panties down, leaving them in a bunch around my ankles.
His warm mouth pressed into the back of my neck, and I sighed. If this was his idea of punishment, it was nothing like I expected, but I definitely wouldn’t be complaining.
Grasping the bottom of my dress, he pulled it up and over my torso. It snagged a bit on my head, and I shook it loose, letting him take it and throw it on the floor.
His fingers traced down over my lace bra, then down over my stomach. I arched my back, pushing my butt back into him. His hard cock rubbed against me, and I sighed in satisfaction. Soon, that delicious girth would fill me up.
One hand grasped my fingers and tugged slightly. “This way,” he ordered, his voice holding a seriousness I hadn’t heard before.
I went, wearing nothing now other than my lingerie and heels. The trip was short, taking us over to the little table next to the windows. Before I hardly even knew what was happening, Cristiano locked his hands on my hips and lifted me up, depositing me on the table. My back brushed against a bit of the exposed window that sat between the curtains and I shivered, the slight coolness of the pane traveling through me.
So slow he had to be putting on a show, Cristiano unhooked my bra and took it off of me. He did the same with my panties, slipping them down my legs with dramatic ease. Instead of tossing those off somewhere, though, he balled them up.
“Open your mouth.”
I stared at him for a second, baffled... and then I remembered just how much I enjoyed the game and parted my lips. Cristiano stuffed the lace panties in between my teeth, sealing my mouth up nice and good.
“That’s for being so petulant,” he growled.
I whimpered in reply, the noise an animalistic sound that came from my ravenous need to be touched. Cristiano grabbed my chin with one hand and forced me to look into his eyes. I froze and gazed back, staring him down. He was a changed man. Where a few minutes ago he’d been soft and gentle, now he was ferocious and violent.
And yet I trusted him. Above that, I loved what he was doing.
Cristiano wrestled with his belt with one hand, the other hand still busy holding onto my chin.
“Look at me while I fuck you,” he hissed, rolling a condom down his length.
Before I even knew it was coming, he plunged into me. I let out a muffled scream, jerking as he pushed all the way in. His hand on my chin snaked around to the back of my head, where he grabbed my hair and held it in a tight ball.
Again and again, he slammed into me, making the table shake, making my back pound against the window. I broke eye contact to look down at his cock entering me and when I did he grabbed my face, turning it back up.
“Do you want to be punished?”
Yes. That was the answer. God, I wanted to be punished so bad.
I nodded, my head already shaking from his violent thrusts. Cristiano smirked the slightest bit, clearly pleased by my response.
Another deep thrust hit me, and at the same time, Cristiano slapped my breast, making it sting right on the nipple. Another slap and the corresponding mound got the same treatment. I whimpered, wanting him to hit me again.
“Please,” I garbled through the fabric in my mouth.
Cristiano chuckled lightly and took one nipple between his thumbs to twist it. Aching pleasure filled me up as he twisted, the added force making his pummeling me that much better. An orgasm wrecked me, making me shake and cry out.
Cristiano groaned, a sound full of heat and passion. Digging the nails of both hands into my thighs, he sped up his movements, fucking me hard and fast. One of his arms looped under my leg to lift it up and over his shoulder. His dick hit a deeper spot, a sore and aching area. I let out a muffled cry, wanting him to stop but also needing it to never end.
He slapped my clit, mimicking the attention he gave to my breasts. Instead of stinging like my breasts, though, the touch was delicious. Over and over he slapped it, then rubbed it with his thumb. Another orgasm rippled through me, and I bit down into my panties.
Cristiano moaned and pulled out. Sweat dripped down his forehead, and he still held my leg over his shoulder. My thigh ached, but I didn’t try to move it. I didn’t so much as move a muscle. He was still in control, and I was still waiting for his word.
A naughty grin on his face, he removed the panties from my mouth. I gasped and realized for the first time just how dry my tongue was.
Cristiano grabbed the sides of my head and pressed his mouth against mine. Our tongues pushed together, each one eager for the other.