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She tells him how glad she is that he called, how much she missed him. His response is harsh and biting: "Shut up."
I'm taken aback by his coldness, wondering what kind of woman would willingly subject herself to such treatment. But she only giggles, seemingly unfazed. He slaps her ass. "Shut up and take it like the whore you are." Slowly, he pushes his cock into her asshole, her moans making it clear that she loves every inch of it.
I stand there, transfixed. I've never seen anal sex before, never even considered it. But seeing Giovanni at the center of it all, dominating this woman with such raw intensity, it's undeniably hot.
No, not hot. I'm here to find something to use against him, I remind myself. But my fingers itch to touch myself, to bring relief to the ache that has settled deep within me.
A slow feeling of electricity courses through my body, warming my veins and leaving me breathless with anticipation. My skin prickles with desire, and I am aware of every sensation around me, as if each one is magnified. Every movement of Giovanni and the woman is like a sharp stab of pleasure, leaving me wanting more.
He pulls out, turning her around to face him. She kneels, mouth open and panting, her eyes locked onto his. "Filthy fucking bitch," he says as he rips off the condom, stroking himself fast and hard. Moments later, he's coming all over her face and tits.
The sight sends a jolt of arousal through me. I feel my skin flush, my heart rate pick up, and the warmth of pleasure radiating from my chest outward. My toes curl as I take in the sight of Giovanni's pleasure and the woman's appreciation of it. My breath is ragged and my senses are heightened, every nerve alive with anticipation.
I struggle to imagine ever wanting that for myself. But as she licks her lips and smiles up at him, clearly reveling in the moment, I wonder if maybe I'm missing out on something incredible.
I expect Giovanni to lay down next to her, wrapping his arms around her or maybe even helping her reach her own climax. But as I'm about to close the door, something catches my eye, and I turn back to watch.
Instead of offering any tenderness, he climbs off the bed and casually tosses her a hand towel. She grabs it and begins wiping herself off as he walks over to his dresser. He pulls out his wallet, and my eyes widen when I see him take out a few bills. Handing them to her, she takes them with a smile, her expression a mix of gratitude and hope.
“Until next time?” she asks tentatively as she pockets the money.
"Maybe," he replies noncommittally before walking into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.
My mouth hangs open in disbelief as I carefully close the door and make my way back towards my own bedroom. The pain in my ankle is completely forgotten; all I can think about is Giovanni fucking a girl for money. No, not just a girl – a hooker. Pristine and professional Giovanni Maldonado paying for sex. The headline practically writes itself. This is definitely blackmail material.
As I climb back into bed, I can't shake the images from my mind, and an unexpected wave of arousal washes over me. I fought the urge to touch myself while watching, but now, alone in the darkness, I can't fight it anymore.
My heart thuds in my chest, the memory of his body imprinted on the backs of my eyelids. I close my eyes, and there he is—Giovanni, the man I'm supposed to hate, yet can't seem to forget.
The way his muscles tensed and released with each thrust, controlling her body and working her with a confidence that sent sparks of electricity through the room. He worked her with a steady rhythm that would increase and then slow, pushing himself deeper with each stroke, his strength evident in the way he held her hips as he moved. His hands tightly gripped her waist as she moved in a gentle, rocking motion that seemed to echo through the room.
I shouldn't be thinking about him this way. I don't want to think about him this way. But in the dark fantasies of my mind, no one has to know. My hand moves lower, still guided by a need I can't deny, and before I know it I'm lost in a world of pleasure, feeling my own heat as each pass of my hand brings new sensations.
My breathing becomes heavier as I imagine what it would be like if Giovanni were here with me instead of with that stupid whore. His big cock thrusting, pushing me further and further until I'm screaming in ecstasy. My fingers move faster as my fantasies continue, imagining his heart pounding against mine, our skin slick with sweat.
"God, why am I doing this?" I whisper to myself, even as I continue. She obviously enjoyed it, and I bet her pussy is real loose, so I can only imagine how much he would stretch and fill me. I sigh, knowing I shouldn’t be thinking such nasty thoughts about a woman I really know nothing about. I hate the idea that it’s because I’m jealous of her. My fingers slide in easily, feeling the wetness of my arousal as they spread me open. My inner walls are slick with desire, squeezing around my fingers as I slip deeper.
"Lucia Manuel, you're an idiot for letting your mind wander like this," I chastise myself, but I don't stop. Instead, my fingers stroke my nipples, gentle at first and then more firmly, as if I was gathering pleasure with every movement. I trail my hands down my body, my fingertips skimming lightly over delicate curves and taut muscles, savoring the sensation of my own skin. I'm completely absorbed in the moment, letting it take me away from all the cares of life and into a realm of pure pleasure.
I let the fantasy play out behind my closed eyes. He reaches down and grabs my hair, his mouth finding mine as he moves inside me harder and faster, taking me to a place I've never been before. His muscles tense with the effort as he continues to slam into me until finally, I let out a loud cry of pleasure that echoes through the room, coming to the idea of him dousing me in his cum just like he did to her. I imagine tasting it and cleaning off his cock with my tongue, all while he lavishes praises on me that he refused to give her. My orgasm relaxes me, and as I drift off to sleep, I remind myself that I really do hate him.
"Tomorrow will be different," I promise myself, trying to regain some semblance of control. "Tomorrow, I'll confront him, and he'll pay for what he's done."
But, as sleep claims me, the lingering touch of phantom fingers and the taste of desire remain.
ChapterSix
The shrill sound of my alarm pierces the air like a dagger, jolting me out of a restless sleep. After last night's debauchery, I should be feeling somewhat improved, but instead, I'm just as irritable as ever. And I know it has everything to do with a princess named Lulu.
I throw off the sheets and make my way downstairs to the gym. Normally, my morning workout is a soothing routine, something that helps me stay in shape and focused. But today, I need it to relieve frustrations. As I lift weights and feel my muscles burn, I try to push her out of my mind - Lulu, with her curly black hair and defiant brown eyes that seem to see right through me.
But no matter how hard I try, I can't escape the thoughts of her stupid attempts at running away. I should be focusing on business, on what I need to do to protect our family and safely close our criminal dealings. Instead, I'm worrying about this stubborn little princess who's somehow managed to infiltrate my every thought.
As my mood degrades, so does my motivation to continue working out. With a sigh of frustration, I put down the weights and leave the gym, not feeling any better than when I entered.
Back in my room, I step into the shower, the hot water cascading over my body as steam fills the space. The temptation to relieve myself is strong, but I resist. It shouldn't be necessary after last night, and yet, my cock is erect again. I take a deep breath, trying to get a hold of myself before toweling off and moving to my wardrobe.
Methodically dressing myself, I search for some relief in the familiar routine, but it's futile. Irritation gnaws at me, and I decide to walk down to her room to check on her before heading to work.
