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So much for her much-vaulted independence.
She cupped her breasts in her palms, her nipples peeking between her fingers, and squeezed lightly. She gasped, her thighs trembling as arousal pulsed hot and hard in her pussy.
“Is this what you like?” she whispered.
“Your obedience is what I like. Take your hands away from your breasts and remove your slacks.”
This time Sam obeyed without hesitation. She shoved her pants and panties down to her knees then sat back in the recliner to kick them and her shoes off. She was completely naked, except for her socks.
Unbidden, memories overwhelmed her. Of countless hours at the gym, trying to transform the wide hips she’d developed at puberty into the fashionably straight silhouette her ex-husband wanted. Of his disapproving glance and her efforts to find clothing to minimize her figure flaws that never satisfied him.
She realized she was holding her breath and released it in a huff.
“Donna bella,” Giacomo whispered. “Molto bella.Più bella.”
Bella. That meant pretty, didn’t it? He thought she was pretty?
Sam breathed deeply, relaxing beneath his heated gaze.
“Now, mia bella, recline the chair.”
He waited while she struggled with the ancient mechanism, bracing her hands against the recliner’s arms, kicking off from the floor and leaning back with all her weight. It popped loudly and fell backward, the footrest rising with an audible sproing.
“Lean back,” he ordered. “Put your knees over the armrests and let me see your pussy hot and wet, pulsing with eagerness.”
Sam eagerly complied, whimpering as the cooler air of the room wafted across her steaming flesh.
“Spread your lips. Feel how wet you are. How hot.”
Her fingers slid over her throbbing flesh, slick with her juices. Even that light pressure was enough to make her arch her hips and moan.
“You may not move,” he warned her.
A disappointed whine broke from her lips but she obediently stilled her hips. An inadvertent tremble rippled through her thigh and ass muscles but that didn’t count since it was outside her conscious control. “I will not move.”
“Good.”
His praise stroked her like warm velvet and she wanted to wriggle with the pleasure. Instead she remained motionless, the heat of her swollen pussy radiating against her fingers.
“Very good. Slide the fingers of one hand into your slit and push one finger all the way inside you.”
Her right hand dipped between her folds, the fingers splaying in the wet heat as her middle finger thrust deep into her vagina. She was so hungry for him she barely touched her flesh.
“Are you tight?” he asked.
“No,” she whispered. “I’m wide open.”
“Use two fingers.”
She slipped her middle finger out, brushing across the sensitive entrance, then thrust her middle and ring fingers back inside. They slid down her wet walls but teased her rather than filled her. She moaned in frustration.
“Are you tight?” he asked again.
“Not too tight to move.”
“Use three fingers.”
Sam’s eyes flew open and she stared up at him. His dark gaze was fixed on her spread pussy, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled the scent of her arousal. She could see the strength of his own arousal straining against his leather pants.
