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I grab a cocktail napkin from the table, and quickly clean the mess from my abs, and rebutton my shirt and rezip my pants.
Shoving the napkin into my pocket, I press the Request Participation button on the table.
I want her, and I’m done holding back.
A soft whirling sound enters the room, and the glass separating me from safety begins to lower slowly. Anticipation rages through me, my body craving the release only she can give me.
Bianca is still on her knees, her thighs parted enough for me to see a flash of those panties I’m desperate to remove.
Her expression is hot and wicked, and her red lips curve into a mischievous smile that tells me she is done holding back too.
Our eyes lock.
“Get over here,” I demand.
I might have just come, but I’m still hard, and I’m not going to have any problem coming again if it means I’m with her.
She eases off the stage and walks toward me, and I can’t tear my eyes off her. Excitement zaps through every nerve ending as she slides those delectable thighs either side of my hips and sits on my lap. My cock throbs, instantly ready for her.
“I knew it was you,” she says, placing her palms on my chest.
And without wasting another second, she kisses me, and I know I’m done for.
Her kiss is sensual but urgent, and with every stroke of her tongue, her need intensifies, mirroring my own desperate need.
She reaches for my zipper, but I stop her. “Not here.”
She rips her lips from mine and sits back, her brows pulling in. “Seriously, you’re turning me down again?”
I lift my hand and run my knuckles down her smooth cheek. “Not a chance, little monster. But we’re not doing it here.” I trail my fingers down her neck and across her cleavage, and she shivers beneath my touch. “Let me take you home. Let me make love to you in my bed.”
I pull her face to mine and kiss her hard so she knows I’m all in. There’s no more hesitation. But I’ve got to do right by her.
I’m not taking her virginity in a peep room of a sex club.
And the way she kisses me back tells me she appreciates it.
The drive back to my apartment is torturous, and Bianca doesn’t help things by rubbing my thigh tantalizingly close to my straining cock. I can barely keep my eyes on the road, and I break every speed limit to get home before my little monster makes me come a second time.
I skid to a stop once inside the parking garage, and we almost run to the elevator.
When the elevator doors close, I grab her and kiss her hard. I push her up against the mirrored walls, desperate to rip her clothes from her body and barely holding myself back from doing so.
The elevator ride, which is usually fast, feels painfully slow as I kiss Bianca until we’re so high with lust we can barely stand up.
When the doors open, we tumble into the apartment, shedding clothes as we head toward the bedroom.
It’s then that it hits me.
I’m going to have to take this slow.
I need to pull this back a bit.
Take my time.
Get her ready.
Make this something for her to look back on and not regret.
Because I’m under no illusions that this is forever; as much as my heart may protest at the thought at giving her up, I know I will have to one day. Because once Bianca knows the truth, she will hate me and won’t want anything to do with me.
But I can give her this now.
And damn if I won’t make it special.
37
BIANCA
I’m nervous but excited and so damn ready.
We stand at the end of the bed, and he kisses me gently. There is no pressure here. No need for nerves. I am safe, I can feel it in every kiss, in every stroke of his tender fingertips against my skin.
We remove our remaining clothes as the moon rises higher in the night sky, and it feels natural and right.
Massimo’s body is strong and muscular. A thrill zips through me when I see his cock. It looks heavy and thick, the shaft roped with veins, the head wide and shiny.
He kisses his way along my jaw and whispers, “Touch me.”
I do as he says and reach for him, brushing my fingers across the deep grooves of his abdominals, which flex and dip beneath my touch.
“Lower, baby,” he rasps in my ear.
My fingers trail lower to where his cock rests against his lower abs. Thick and heavy, it feels warm and rutted with veins.
He groans in my ear. “That’s it, you’re doing good.”
He wraps my fingers around the shaft and guides my hand to start stroking. “Mmm, feel that, feel how hard you make me.”
Another groan. Another whisper of fingers along my skin. I whimper, positively dripping with the need for him.
