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“Keep rubbing yourself,” he ordered as he pushed forward, “but don’t come until I say.”
He expected resistance, but to his surprise she opened up as if inviting him in. Gripping her cheeks, he carefully thrust inside her an inch at a time, finally completely embedding himself.
“Feel my ownership. Your body belongs to me.”
“Yes, Master. I’m yours,” she whimpered. “I’m all yours.”
Surrendering to the intoxicating feel of her tight walls, and spurred on by her gasps and groans, he began to stroke, but as she tried to move with him, he paused.
“Keep still. I’ll fuck you as slow or as fast as I choose.”
“I’m sorry, Master, but I’m so close,” she said piteously. “Please, please, please…”
“Stop rubbing, count to six, then start again.”
He hadn’t expected her to bleat out the numbers, but as she did, he thrust with each number, until she sent her fingers back to her hungry pussy, then he pumped with greater gusto, quickly reaching his apex.
“Now,” he grunted breathlessly feeling his climax about to break. “Come for me! Come for me now.”
Her passionate cries filled the room, but he barely heard them through his loud, guttural groans. Tingling sparks fired through his limbs as the powerful release swept him away…
The last spasm waned, leaving his heart thundering in his chest. Slipping out, he fell on the bed beside her, but as he caught his breath, he vaguely remembered hearing his phone.
“Marco,” she panted, still on her stomach and flinging an arm over his body.
She’d only said his name, but he’d heard so much more.
He’d won her heart.
Rolling on his side, he stared at her.
A warm chill pricked his skin.
Did his heart belong to her?
A loud banging snatched his attention.
Still panting, he jumped from the bed, hastily pulled on his slacks and raced to the bedroom door.
“What?” he demanded, jerking it open.
“It’s the Zeppelin brothers,” Joe said urgently. “They’re here.”
Chapter 22
Quickly stepping into the hall and closing the door behind him, Marco stared at his capo with disbelief.
“Joe, that’s impossible,” he said, shaking his head. “You must be mistaken.”
“Benny saw headlights pull up to the gates, then one of the guards called in and said a man named Oleg Zeppelin and his brother Ivan were asking to see you,” Joe replied earnestly. “I tried to call you a couple of times.”
Marco’s eyes narrowed.
“We don’t know for certain it’s the brothers,” he muttered thoughtfully. “Tell Benny to try and see into the car. I’ll join you in the security room in a minute.”
“Okay, boss.”
As Joe pulled out his phone and hurried down the hall, Marco strode back in the bedroom.
