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“You mean you don’t have a different woman, or even women in here every night, come on, Mr. Emiliano, do you think I was born yesterday?”
To my horror, he runs his hand down my body as if he owns it, and I hate that I love every minute of it.
“It’s the truth, I fuck women in one of my suites, never my home.”
I wince at his words, hating the picture he paints and I snap back, “Well, I fuck my men anywhere I can, my home, their home, the subway.”
He laughs out loud. “The subway, now I know you’re lying.”
Leaning down, he takes one of my breasts into his mouth and bites down hard and I scream. “Ow, what the fuck was that?”
“Punishment for talking about other men.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re mine and you don’t fuck with anyone except me.”
“Now I know you’re delirious. How much did you have to drink last night because number 1, I’m not yours to fuck and number 2, we haven’t fucked and…”
“Number 3, you will shut the fuck up unless you want me to demonstrate my ownership of you right now.”
I stop talking.
He rolls off and I take my chance and scoot from the bed and he says tersely, “We need to shower and eat. It’s later than normal and I have meetings to attend.”
“Go ahead then, don’t let me stop you and call me a cab, I have a business to open.”
“Nice try little flower, but you’re coming too.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shifts from the bed and I cover my eyes when I see his cock pointing in my direction.
“I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
