Deciding I won't cut him, my knife falls to the floor of the limo. He carefully sets his aside. Our eyes are still riveted on each other, and I squirm in his lap. Our rapid breaths mingle; our faces draw nearer. Forseveral seconds, I study his firm lips, so curious to feel them pressed to mine.
Just as I ponder acting, he mutters, “Don’t,” warily.
“Don’t what?”
I start to move again, so he grasps my wrists in one of his strong hands, but I’m not fighting him. I’m seeking something. One experimental roll of my hips and I find it. Feeling the heat of his groin and his thick, firm cock this close, an answering ache awakens inside me. I whimper, convinced I will die if I can’t get even closer to that heat.
“Stop it, Matilde.”
“Stop what?” I ask, boldly rolling my hips again, grinning with satisfaction when he grunts.
“You know what,” he accuses. I bite back a giggle when his hand finds my ass again because he’s not spanking me. The power dynamic has shifted somehow. He’s holding me. Closer. Squeezing and caressing my butt as his eyes bore into mine. “You are sowillfulandfrustrating,” he complains, even as he keeps his hand there and his eyes drop to my lips. I lick them, watching his pupils dilate in response.
“And you are a cold ass.”
“A cold ass who managed to warm yours,” he murmurs, still caressing me.
Then I realize what he means. “You warmed my… oh, I see!” Startled laughter escapes me, causing me to rock forward. My breasts brush against his chest, and his other arm loops around my waist, his lips twitching for an instant before he shakes his head.
“Matilde…”
“Nico…”
Face to face, straddling my employer in the back of a limo with someone else mere feet away, I did not see my night going in this direction. I am not complaining. This is like something dirty and forbidden I’ve imagined in my bed at night, ever since the day I first wandered into his bedroom uninvited.‘There is a wildness in you,’echoes in my mind. It’s a wildness I want to explore when it comes to him.
One of his fingers slides inside my panties, getting steadily closer to places I want him and no other to touch. I can't breathe. I can't break away from his intense stare. I wait for him to show me a paradise I've only imagined. A light teasing brush of my inner thigh, another just a bit closer. I squirm impatiently, wanting more, always more with him.
"You didn't seem to enjoy what you were doing last night," he hums. "Would you enjoy this?"
"I will not know until I try."
I can feel the heat of his finger, so close to touching metherebut…
"You will with your husband."
His words are ice cold water dashed on my desires. After my stepmother's constant harping about a girl's honor and duty and a husband's expectations, I'm overcome with shame for wanting what I want.
Swallowing hard, I free one of my hands and reach up, wanting nothing more than to touch his face, to trace his scar with my fingertips.
He jerks back immediately, shoving me off his lap and into the seat across from him. The warmth in his eyes vanishes so quickly I wonder if I imagined it.
“Do you realize how dangerous that was? Do you have any common sense at all? Didn’t your abduction teach you anything?” he scolds. Back to the club and me sneaking out, I see.
“Why does that matter to you? I could disappear forever, and you would be relieved.”
He stares at me like I’m raving mad. “Why would I be relieved if something happened to you? When have I ever suggested I wanted you to be hurt?”
“The day we met!” I remind him fiercely, glancing down at his knife. “You said if any harm came to your children, I would come to know your knife innately.”
He rolls his eyes.“In-ti-mate-ly.”
“Don’t correct me when-”
“I didn’t know you then. Now, I know you would never harm them. And your safety is important to me. If something happened to you…”
There's something a little bit lost in his tone. He’s been going on about my safety so often. I thought it was more about protecting his children while also controlling me. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe what I shared with him really did make an impact.
“But you do not like me,” I say, challenging him to deny it and ashamed by how much Iwanthim to deny it.
