The wet eyes of Adelina Bontempi, the stunning young woman and wife of his business partner, blazed up at Pierce Agostini. Seeing her in public, you’d think she was a fashion model, probably a little aloof, well-behaved and most likely quite prim and proper.
Well, the first part would be right. Adelina Kean had been a model and she still made appearances as a brand ambassador and at charity functions. She didn’t seem too aloof, though, on her knees in the back of Pierce’s Bentley.
While he had her by the hair, she showed no sign of being unwilling to do what he wanted, and it was hardly what a well-behaved girl would do, much less someone else’s prim and proper wife.
She knew that Pierce wanted a copy of a document on her husband’s computer. She told him that she knew how to get it. Oh, but wasn’t there something that he could do for her?
Didn’t matter how beautiful she was, how many fashion magazine covers those full, wet lips had pouted on or how many double-page spreads her long legs had sprawled over, all of that cooing and simpering grated on his ear.
He could respect a woman who would just tell him straight, ‘I want your hard cock to fill my mouth and stretch the length of my throat, to rev up the soft heat between my tits. Then I want you to spread my thighs and split me wide, prise me open and pound me over the edge of endurance.’
Why couldn’t they ever just say what they meant? ‘Rip through the clinging wet velvet of my hungry walls and ram into the backs of my thighs with the ridges of your rock-hard abs until I bite and scream and gush.’
That was what she meant and they both knew it. In the cozy hush in the back of his sapphire Bentley, she hadn’t waited five minutes to slip her tongue between his lips, to nuzzle down the ridges of his chest and all the way down his perfect white cotton shirt. Then to flash her dark eyes and shimmy out of her expensive satin dress.
After that, she panted as she slid her silky lingerie and her soft, peachy flesh all over his suit, over his shirt, inside his jacket. Snuck her fingernails in the gaps between his shirt buttons and shoved her eager hands into his pants.
She didn’t care about people on the street who could maybe see in through the tinted windows. She didn’t even care about Callaghan and Calhoun, sat up front both staring rigidly straight ahead.
She stretched and squeezed and cooed against the rising heat in his suit pants and then she peered up into his eye as she hauled his zipper down. Her hot breath made him so hard it hurt.
Her cool fingers trembled while they gripped him, as she leaped up to get her tongue down his throat. He smelled her perfume and her own scent as she blew and flicked her tongue in his ear.
Her soft, warm mouth made a slow journey down the side of his neck, over his chest and his stomach until her lips were sliding over the head of his aching pole.
He knew if he didn’t do something, she’d be there all night, so he flung her face-first into the upholstery. He could tell that she’d like that.
She howled like a drunken schoolgirl as he reamed and rammed her, doggy style, and slammed her sprawling into the deep softness of thick black leather. All she did was mewl and whimper when he stopped. By the time they got to the club, she’d got her breath back and started to beg for more.
Watching her shamelessly buck and roll along the hard length of his hot cock as she brimmed and burst took him up to the edge. He yanked her hair, and the cheeks of her bare ass rippled as he slapped them.
When she whimpered his name, his anger propelled him on to pump and fill her in hot, pulsing bolts. When he finished, she slumped, exhausted, and crawled to rest her head in his lap. She made it awkward for him to pull his clothes together and he resented her very presence.
Still, he needed her husband’s plan. He drew a slow breath, thinking that he might have to fuck her again to get it. He’d avoid that if he could. However much he wanted a woman when he first saw them, as far as he was concerned once he had them they were all used up. He hadn’t found one yet that he could stand to be around afterwards.
Like this one, the more he tried to get rid of them, the more they wanted him again. Each time he nudged her out of the way, she crawled back into his lap like a stray cat that slinks in out of a freezing cold night.
She was beautiful, like they all were. Sexy as hell, but they all were that, too. And looking at her reminded him, as they all did, of why his rule was such a good one, ‘One time and one time only. No exceptions.’
He thought she was going to follow him out of the car naked, but somehow she got herself covered and tottered behind him into the club. The nightclub was part two of the plan.