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Salvatore is Salvatore though. Man of control and anyone following his lead has to do as he says, including me. I submit to him automatically and I like him being in control of me. I like his wild dark fantasies and that a man like him can have such fantasies of me.
He jackhammers to his release and I savor the feel of him fucking me, then the spray of hot cum flooding my walls. It’s an experience I can’t quite forget. It’s warm and primal, sexy, just like him.
His pumps slow to a languid pace and he stills.
He stills and runs his hands along my back and down my thighs.
“You feel so good Mimi. Fuck…” he growls and takes his time pulling out.
“You… feel good too,” I pant.
I can’t move. I stay there for a few seconds until I feel him cleaning me and I look back to see him wiping at the cum that’s run down my legs.
I smile back at him and he spins me around to face him.
“Jesus H. I want more,” he husks, pulling me in for a kiss. He does that insanely hot thing I love by tugging on my bottom lip and we start kissing again.
I want more too. More of him.
The flicker of light however, pulls us apart and then it cuts out leaving only the subtle lights from the electric sockets on the walls.
He pulls back and looks around, cautious.
“I’m gonna check that out then we’ll go home,” he states.
“Let me get dressed quickly.”
“You know I wouldn’t mind taking you on that desk again in the dark,” he muses, grabbing a handful of my ass.
I laugh and playfully back away from him. “It’s my turn to have you and I want you in the hot tub,” I tell him.
I can’t really see him all that well but I see his smile.
“Okay Babygirl. You can have me in the hot tub.”
We get dressed quickly and step out of the office.
Instantly, I see that the light is only out in my office and the lighting is fine out here.
The men are sitting over by the corner.
And, so is Dad.
Dad who looks me over with disdain.
Christ… did he hear us?
Judging from the cautious looks on the men’s faces I just know they heard and the look on my father’s face tells me he most likely did too.
Shit… but actually, I don’t care.
Salvatore had his arm around me and he didn’t let me go when he saw Dad.
We stop by the counter and Dad comes over to us, assuming his business presence. It’s the same presence I’ve been used to my whole life when he’s with any of the Giordano men.
“Mr. Cipriani,” Salvatore states, greeting Dad in that cool casual manner even though he holds his own business presence.
“Salvatore Giordano. Haven’t seen you in a long time,” dad answers and there’s nothing pleasant about his tone.
