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He wraps his fingers around mine, guides my hand back to his chest. His fingers graze the ring and he freezes. Then he traces the diamond in a slow circle.
"We need to get out of here," he finally says, then pushes himself, and me, up to sitting position.
"Fine, fine," I huff, "if you don’t want to tell me about the scar, I’ll understand." I toss my hair over my shoulder, "You only have to say so. No need to brush off my question, you know."
He glances down at me, then sets me to the side before tucking himself inside his sweatpants. He rises to his feet, then holds out his hand, "Come," he murmurs, "let’s get out of the rain."
Fifteen minutes later, I scoop up some of the hot water, then pour it over myself as I lean back into his broad chest. He’d carried me up and back into the house, pausing only to rinse the mud off both of us in the outdoor shower attached to the house, before he'd carried me into his bedroom. He'd filled up the bathtub in the ensuite, throwing in salts that had fizzed and bubbled before the space had filled with the scent of roses and lavender. When I had commented that it was a terribly feminine scent, he’d admitted that he’d bought the salts for me. Huh, okay. I hadn’t expected to hear that.
I’d decided to keep the rest of my questions to myself for a little longer. Not that I don’t want to find out more. It’s just, after being freshly fucked, I want to revel in the pleasant buzz that grips my limbs, and the silence that seems to have taken the place of the thoughts that normally buzz around in my head. Apparently, the Capo shagged all thoughts out of my head. I snort, then swallow down the rest of the laugh that bubbles up. Either I am getting lightheaded, or a little hysterical, or both…
He reaches for the shampoo, pours some of it out, then begins to work it into my hair. The complex scent of moonflowers fills the space. "I love this scent." I murmur, and I sense him smile above me.
"I know."
"It really is annoying how you always seem to have all of the answers."
"I don’t, actually," he retorts. "For a long time, I had no idea what I was going to do with my life."
I turn my head and he increases the pressure on my hair so I have to glance forward again.
"Thought you were born into the Mafia, so you didn’t have a choice but to join the family business?"
"You always have a choice, in everything you do, Beauty." He urges me to tilt my head back as he digs his fingertips into my scalp in slow circles.
A warmth envelops me and the muscles of my neck relax. "Hmm," I sigh, "you sure are good with your fingers, Mr. Capo."
A chuckle rumbles up his chest and the vibrations sink into my blood. The warmth of his body, combined with the heat from the hot water, envelops me fully. I close my eyes and give in to his attention as he begins to wash the suds out of my hair with the hand shower. Then he positions my head against his shoulder, and I sink into him further. He holds the hand shower over my breasts, then moves it down my belly. He dips the hand shower under water and holds it right over the entrance to my pussy.
"Ooh," I murmur, "that’s…ah…nice."
"Nice, hmm?" His breath teases my temple a second before he runs his tongue around the shell of my ear. He bites down on my earlobe at the same time that he pushes the shower head right up against the entrance of my channel.
The pressure of the water is muted, yet it stimulates my clit. I wriggle around and he brings his big hand down onto my hip and holds me in place.
"Relax, Beauty," he murmurs, "I know what you need."
Do you? Do you know how much I love having your hands on me? How much I want you to debase me? How much I need you to degrade me? How I want you to humiliate me, to make me submit, to reach out to the darkness inside of me and bring it to the light so I can see myself through your eyes? Feel my desires as they ripple up your skin, sense how I break you apart, as you shatter me and put me back together in a design that mocks the girl I used to be.
Do you, my Capo, understand what it means that I met you this way? Even though the timing of our encounter is all wrong, even though the nature of our tryst is suspect... Even though you claim that I am your wife…though we both know this marriage is a sham. One that is a means of helping you get what you desire, that allows you to fulfill all of your ambitions… And me...what about me? What about what I want, what I need, what I want to do to you as you pleasure me?
I grip his wrist, applying enough pressure that he pauses. I turn my head, glance at him from the corner of my eye. I urge his hand back and he frowns. I turn around so I am kneeling between his legs, facing him, in the bathtub.
Then I bring his hand back between my legs and position the shower head back at the entrance of my channel. He arches his eyebrow at me and I raise a shoulder, "I can see you this way."
He moves the shower head closer to my clit and a shiver runs up my back. I reach down to grasp his erect cock, as he reaches behind him and increases the pressure of the water. The stream gushes up and against my already sensitive clit and I gasp. I tense my fingers around his cock, and damn it, my fingers don’t meet around his girth. I mean, I’d felt him inside of me...as he’d stretched me, and filled me, as he’d pushed his way down my throat...but I hadn’t realized just how big he is, in relation to my hand. I swipe my fingers down to the base of his shaft, and he grits his teeth.
A nerve throbs at his temple, as he grips my hip with his other hand, bracketing me in. I part my legs, allowing him to bring the spray even closer. The spray massages my pussy and I can’t stop the moan that bleeds from my lips. I hold his gaze as I swipe my fingers up the length of his cock. I drag my thumb across his swollen head and he bares his teeth. I squeeze down his length again and his chest rises and falls. "You’re killing me," he growls as he reaches behind to turn off the water before letting the shower head sink to the bottom of the tub. He wraps his fingers about the nape of my neck, and the tips almost meet around the front of my throat. I swallow and I can feel him feel the action.
The skin around his eyes tightens. "Take me in your mouth," he orders.
I glance down, then back at his face. I take a breath, then lower my head to the water. The depth is just enough to cover my mouth, as I close my lips around his cock. A groan rumbles up his massive chest, as he increases the pressure on my throat. "Take me down your throat, I want to feel you swallow." He lowers his voice to a hush, and OMG, that dominance in his voice chafes across my nerve-endings. All of my pores seem to pop. My core clenches and moisture pools between my legs as I open my mouth wider, then drop my chin as I take him down my throat. And promptly gag. He holds me in place as my eyes water.
"Take it all in, Beauty," he growls, his voice hard, his gaze burning into me, a challenge in them, maybe? And fuck it, but I want to show him that I am not some stupid, virginal woman who can’t keep up with him. So, I draw in another breath through my nose, hold it, then relax my throat as he pushes me down and I take him in as deep as I can. The water flows over my nose and I don’t dare breathe as I lick my tongue up his swollen length.
He presses his thumb into the front of my throat and groans, "Fuck me, but you have no idea how hot that is, Beauty. To feel my cock as it slides down your throat." His breath catches, "It’s so damn erotic." His tone deepens, "You’re a fucking queen... My goddess."
Umm, okay, is that the blow job speaking, or does he really mean it?
