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“Spread your thighs, Emilia. Nice and wide. Let me see that tight pussy.”
I widened my stance as he trailed his fingers up the inside of my thigh, just catching the edge of one of the raised welts. I hissed out a breath before he slipped my underwear to the side and dragged a finger through my pussy.
“You’re drenched, princess,” he groaned in my ear. “You like the belt on your pretty skin. Marking you.”
He pressed two fingers inside me, and I bucked, gasping for air as the belt tightened farther around my throat. “I want to fuck you and choke you just like this until you beg me to stop. Beg for my forgiveness.”
I would beg for nothing. His thighs pressed against the back of mine, making the welts chafe with every thrust of his hand.
He fucked me, deprived me of oxygen, controlled my body until I was delirious.
“Whose pussy is this, Emilia?”
I clamped my mouth shut, and he stopped. I wanted to kill him.
He pulled out and slapped my clit, the shock cutting through the pleasure. “Tell me, princess.” He rammed those fingers into me again, so hard that I smashed against the edge of the desk, the belt cutting off my air.
“Yours,” I gasped. “It’s yours.”
He kissed my throat, pumping into me hard and fast. “So perfect, piccola.”
A twist of his wrist and my pussy clamped down around him, pleasure tearing up my spine. My head swam and lungs burned as my vision spotted. He loosened the belt, and I collapsed over the desk, sucking in gasping breaths. I was vaguely aware of the sound of his zipper, the press of him behind me…
“Good girl.”
I didn’t know what it was about those two words at that exact moment, but they jarred me from the haze of bliss. Did he call her a good girl? I couldn’t help but imagine Laylah’s body right here not so long ago. Did she beg him to fuck her?
I felt the nudge of his dick at my entrance, and nausea rose up my throat. “Stop.”
He paused. I counted three rapid beats of my heart and one staggered breath before he pulled back.
“What?”
I pushed up and clawed at the belt still around my throat, suddenly panicking, wanting to be anywhere but here. “I said stop. I need…” I didn’t know what I needed, but he released the belt, and I scrambled away from the desk, pulling my dress back down. “I need…”
“Emilia.” He moved in front of me, clasping my face in both hands.
I closed my eyes, unable to look at him, knowing what he’d done with her, knowing he was going to fuck me right after. I felt soiled and used. The fact that I had told him to go with her didn’t seem to matter to my wounded feelings. “I want to go home,” I whispered.
There was a beat of silence, a rustle of material, and then he was draping his jacket over my shoulders. I pulled it around me as if it could cover all my bare skin, but I hated that he seemed to know what I needed right then.
Gio picked up his keys and led me down the stairs until we were outside the club. He held the door open for me to get into the car, and I winced when I sat down, my abused thighs and ass stinging.
Gio reached over me and fastened my seat belt before placing a bottle of water in my hand. “Drink that. All of it.” He rummaged through the glove box before finding a box of Tylenol. He placed two pills on my thigh. “Take those.” I did.
The ride home was silent, and though there was tension, I found the silence peaceful. Thoughts tried to break through my endorphin-addled mind, but I was calm for once. Sad but calm. And maybe that was the best I could hope for these days.
We pulled through the gates of the Hamptons house and wound up the drive. The car stopped outside the front door, and for a second, neither of us made any effort to move.
“I didn’t touch her,” he said into the silence.
I wasn’t sure I believed him, didn’t know if it even mattered. I opened the door and slipped the jacket from my shoulders, mourning the scent of him the moment I dropped it on the seat.
“I’ll see you at the altar, piccola.”
I shut the door and walked inside.
16
GIO
The urge to follow Emilia upstairs was like an itch beneath my skin that I couldn’t reach. I wanted to bury my dick in her, mark her, bathe her in my fucking come if I had to. But as always, everything was more complicated than that.
Instead, I took a shower, allowing the hot water to ease the tension in my muscles as I fisted my dick. I pictured her striped ass and thighs, could almost hear her telling me her pussy was mine. I braced my hand against the wall and imagined she was here with me, on her knees, sucking my dick so sweetly. That was all it took for my balls to tighten before heat ripped down my spine. I painted the tile in my come before washing it away.
