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“Thanks for doing that,” he says as we clean up the dishes together. “Seriously, it was good.”
“I was nervous,” I admit.
“Is that why you’re all dressed up?”
“Yes and no. I feel kind of silly admitting it but I wanted to know what it felt like.”
“I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you wear a dress before.”
“No, idiot.” I punch his arm. It’s like a fly headbutting a lion. “I mean, how it would feel to put on something pretty and cook for you. I know it’s a cliché and whatever, but, I don’t know, I just—” I stop myself, turning bright red, suddenly aware of how stupid this whole thing is.
I wanted to surprise him. Gian’s been stressed and working hard to make me happy, but I feel like I haven’t done enough to support his needs. I’ve been so worried about my own problems that his issues have fallen through the cracks. I wanted tonight to be the start of me giving him more of my emotional support, and what better way than to feed him? The guy may be a rich mobster, but he’s still Italian.
“This was perfect,” he says, turning to me. His damp, soapy hand brushes my cheek, and I don’t even mind. “I mean it. You look incredible too.”
“I noticed you looking at my chest.”
“No kidding. I haven’t been subtle.”
“I figured you’d like the cut of this top.”
“Love it, actually.” He kisses my neck down to my collarbone and lingers at the tops of my breasts. I let out a happy sigh as excitement builds in my core. “This must be the dessert you promised.”
“I’m surprised you have room for more.”
“I always do when it comes to you.” He kisses me deep, tongue against mine, lingering. It’s hungry, but it’s also something more. That kiss is a promise of more kisses to come. It’s a promise of himwantingmore kisses, so many more I won’t know what to do with them all. But it doesn’t overwhelm me, and I’m not afraid to imagine more nights like this in our future.
He lifts me up onto the counter. I laugh as he opens my legs and I lock my ankles around his hips as he pushes the straps of my dress off my shoulders until he reveals each breast and my hard, pink nipples. His mouth finds them and sucks hard, locking down, his tongue lapping at me. I groan, head tossed back as he hungrily sucks and licks and bites gently. I grind my core against him, head going dizzy with bliss.
“I thought you’d be able to control yourself until we got upstairs,” I say, breathless.
“You were wrong.” He bites my lower lip as his other hand shoves the hem of my dress up. It doesn’t have far to go before my panties are on full display. He ignores them, pushes them aside, and rolls a finger up and down my slit.
I whimper as he buries my mouth with another kiss. His fingers find my clit and tease me, pressing down and moving in luxurious circles, sending my brain into overdrive. Right as I’m about to beg him for more, he sinks two fingers in deep, the heel of his palm rubbing against my clit.
“There you go, baby,” he says as I roll my hips, my mouth hanging open. He sucks my nipples again as he fucks me with his fingers. “That feels good, doesn’t it? I think you deserve a little reward.”
“Oh, yeah? You think this is a reward?” I pant hard, trying to concentrate on forming words. But it’s getting pretty hard—pleasure blooms between my legs as his big fingers continue to stroke in and out, hitting a spot I only thought I could find.
“I think it’s the best reward imaginable. A nice, fat orgasm.”
“Fuck,” I groan as his fingers glide deep and I grind harder against his palm. “You’re so full of yourself.”
“No, baby, you’re full of my fingers. Keep on moving those hips. I’m going to suck on this hard nipple until you come, okay?”
“Shit,” I gasp as he latches on. “Okay, Gian, keep going.” He sucks hard, fucking me with his fingers, and I reach climax with my mouth open, his name on my lips, my hips furiously rolling against his hand. I come hard and when it passes, I collapse forward into his arms.
He kisses me and presses his fingers into my mouth. I’m too surprised to argue as he makes me lick myself off him. Despite having just had a shockingly good orgasm, the fact that he’s making me do this drives another spike of desire into my core.
“Good girl,” he says, kissing me gently. “You went to all this trouble and I’m still somehow starving.”
“That’s because you have an enormous appetite.”
“When it comes to you, baby, I’m pretty sure it’s endless.”
I laugh even if it’s cheesy. I don’t care. He kisses me again and I let him lead me up into the bedroom. We strip as we go, and by the time we reach our sheets, there’s nothing between us but skin. His lips find mine and my hands find his cock, and I stroke him as he groans and tell me how beautiful I am. His body’s so big and lean and muscular, and he tastes like salt and grass and ocean air. I moan when his fingers tease me again, but this time, I don’t want his hands. I guide him between my legs, and his big tip presses against my entrance.
“You know what I love about you?” he asks, still not inside of me, and that’s unacceptable.
