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“I didn’t stutter, Salvatore. N-O,” I say, glaring at him.
The briefest flicker of fury passes over his face before he rushes forward and grabs both my arms. He spins me around and presses me stomach first into the bathroom sink. His lips rest near my ear.
“I wasn’t fucking asking,” he growls. “You won’t date other men.”
“You’re delusional if you think you get to decide that.”
His fingers twine in my curls and he tugs hard enough to tilt my face up and make my scalp prickle. Our gazes connect in the bathroom mirror. He smooths a hand along my neck and shoulders.
“I don’t want you to go on dates with other men,” he reiterates slowly.
“We’re not together—”
“I don’t give a fuck. I’ve told you. That doesn’t make you any less mine.”
I gasp as his hand charts a path along my body. He gropes my breast, slides down the flat surface of my stomach, and then he fondles me through my panties. It’s bold and unapologetic, like he really is touching what’s his.
In Salvatore’s eyes, I will always belong to him.
The conflicting thought floats to the forefront of my mind as he fondles me and I instinctively shudder at his touch.
“Let go of me,” I breathe, twisting in his grip. I’m flushed and practically panting. “I’m in the middle of dinner!”
“I’ll take you out to dinner any time. You don’t need other men for that.”
I squeeze my eyes shut as his hand snakes into my panties. “It’s… it’s not your decision.”
“They don’t appreciate you the way I do. They don’t want you the way I do.” His tone is rough and gritty but at the same time, warm and arousing. Every few words he pauses to kiss the spot behind my ear. “They can’t fuck you like I do.”
Logic screams at me to shove him off, but the desire pulsing inside me reveals my secret truth…
No one else but you…
I bite my lip and hold in the moan bubbling to the surface. His hands roam some more. They slide over my breasts, cupping them, tweaking my nipples through the thin fabric of my dress. I didn’t wear a bra tonight; my nipples harden under his touch.
“What would he think of you right now? Your date?” he asks in amused curiosity. “If he knew the woman he asked on a date is about to get fucked in the restroom of the restaurant? All while he waits obediently outside?”
Salvatore yanks up the slinky fabric of my dress until it’s bunched around my waist. He strips me of my panties and smacks a hand to my bare ass. Rarely can he resist doing so. A growl vibrates from my throat and I push back against him, but it proves to be a huge mistake—my ass grinds against his front.
His fat dick that he’s whipped out and is stroking.
We both groan at the contact, like addicts given a taste of the drug we’re so desperate for.
Each other.
Salvatore grips my hips and slams into me on his first thrust.
We immediately set a fast, angry pace. We fuck like we’re trying to destroy each other. It’s violent and erratic, with our bodies colliding as we desperately seek out our chemical rush.
My body becomes one singular pulse of pleasure. The thousands of nerve-endings in my pussy blink to life and fire off electric sparks through the rest of me.
“Look in the mirror, Phi,” Salvatore grunts, pulling my curls back with one hand. His other is around my hips, holding me in place as he fucks into me. “Look at how flushed you look. Do you hear how wet you are? Who’s it for, Phi?”
“Ohhh…”
“Me.” He bites into my neck. “That’s who. Only me.”
My eyes on his and his on mine, we watch ourselves in the mirror.
