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“I quite enjoy this little game we’ve been playing.” His finger pushes, and presses, and circles, causing my already wet entrance to become even more soaked.
When he applies a little extra pressure, I grind my teeth, giving in even as I try to hold on to the last of my resistance before it ebbs away. Did I scream a little? Maybe, but the outof body experience I’m having due to his deftly skilled fingers is making it hard for me to think. Slowly circling my clit this time, applying pressure in all the right places, I’m like a puppet on his string. My breathing quickens, my heart races in my chest.
“But as with every such game, there can only be one winner in the end.” He presses onto my clit just a little harder, his movements faster, and beneath his controlled and methodical touch, the last of my resistance is quickly seeping out.
“You think you’re going to win?” I bite my lip again and press my forehead to the wall. More. I need more, but I’d rather die than confess it to him. A demon. Yes, he’s a demon, sent to torment and play me like an instrument with his infernal fingers. With every press of his fingers, I lose another piece of my mind.
“Well, that’s the thing, Milene,” he whispers into my ear and slowly moves his finger to my entrance. “I’ve already won. All that’s left is for you to accept it.”
“You haven’t won anything, Salvatore.”
“Are you sure about that, cara?” he asks and slides two fingers inside me.
I suck in a breath and moan as my eyes roll up in my head. He pushes his fingers even deeper while his other hand moves to rub my clit rapidly. His fingers curl to massage my inner wall, finding my G-spot. This time a very loud moan fills the air as pleasure overwhelms my system.
As Salvatore pinches my clit a little harder and rubs faster with both hands, I reach an orgasm like I’ve never experienced before. Wave after wave of spasms rack my body, drowning out all rational thoughts. It feels as if my mind fully disintegrates in that moment.
His lips brush the side of my neck. Light kisses pepper the column of my throat all the way up to my earlobe. Softly, he whispers, “That was with my fingers, Milene. Tonight, when you’re trying to sleep, imagine how it would feel to have my cock inside you instead.”
He slides his fingers out gently, his hand vanishes, and between breaths, he’s gone as well, leaving me panting in the middle of the hallway, with my forehead and hands pressed against the wall.
* * *
“Damn him,” I mumble and take the phone from my nightstand, checking the time. Four a.m. Groaning, I put the phone back and bury my face in the pillow, trying to cast the memory of being pressed against the wall out of my head. No amount of mental gymnastics is successful.
I get out of bed and go to the kitchen. Maybe I should get wasted and pass out on the sofa. It wouldn’t take much since I don’t often drink. Three glasses of wine would do the trick.
I take out an open bottle of white wine from the fridge and walk to the cupboard next to the sink to get a glass. As I’m reaching for it, I hear Salvatore coming inside the kitchen and my hand stills on its journey toward my holy grail. A few moments later I feel a light touch against my back.
“Can’t sleep?” comes the whispered words behind my ear, followed by a light kiss that makes the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention in a flash.
“No.”
“Me neither.” Another light kiss against my neck. “Grab two glasses. And bring the wine.”
“Bring it where?” I utter.
“Into my bedroom,” he says and moves his lips to my shoulder, biting slightly. “I’ll behave.”
“Oh? Like you’re behaving now?”
“So stubborn.” He kisses the skin on the side of my neck. “We can talk. If that’s what you want.”
“Yes.” I grip the stems of two glasses between my fingers and lift the chilled bottle from its resting place. When I turn, I find him looking at me, a curious glint in his eyes. “Just talk, Tore.”
“Just talk, Milene.”
I nod and move past him into the hallway, which has taken on a new aspect since earlier events. I’m aware of his eyes on me as he follows a few steps behind. The door to his bedroom is closed, so I lean down to press the handle with my elbow and feel my T-shirt rise. I turn to find Salvatore standing right behind me, holding his finger under the hem of my shirt, ogling my ass.
“Tore! We had a deal.”
“But I haven’t laid a finger on you, Milene,” he says without lifting his eyes from my backside. “Red looks good on you, cara. I especially like the frills.”
“I’m glad you approve of my choice in underwear. Now stop it.”
I open the door and move inside his bedroom, knowing full well I haven’t come here to talk. At some point during the night, between tossing and turning while I was trying to sleep, I finally admitted to myself—I can’t resist anymore. Myintegrity be damned. I can’t keep going on like this because, if I do, I’m going to lose my mind.
I pass Milene, who’s setting the glasses down on the dresser next to the door, sit on the edge of the bed, and lean my crutches against the wall before sprawling out on the satin sheets. Milene pours the wine, then sways her hips as she moves toward the nightstand next to me and sets down my glass. Walking around the room, she sips the Sauvignon Blanc while checking out the space. I hope she likes it, because she’ll be spending every night here with me from now on.
