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I catch his slight flinch, the way he chokes a little on his sip of wine, trying quickly to hide it. My pulse speeds up, remembering the sight of him in the office today, hand wrapped firmly around himself, head tipped back, lips parted on a silent moan of pleasure. I feel my cheeks flush, and Alessio seems to take notice of that, at least.
“Are you alright? You seem a little flustered.” His voice drops an octave, and it makes me think thathe’sgetting a little flustered, too. I can feel the tension thickening, and I wonder if he’s aware of it, too.
“It’s just been a long day.” I’ve barely touched my salad, but that course is already being whisked away in preparation for the staff to bring in the main course. I reach for my wine glass again, my other hand curled into a fist in my lap, short nails digging into my palm. “It was nice to get outside for a little while—go for a swim, lay in the sun.” I watch his face as I speak, curiously, and sure enough—I see the tiniest twitch at the side of his mouth, a tightening of his lips that makes my heart leap in my chest.
Was he—watchingme?The idea sends a thrill through my blood, fizzing like fine champagne. I hadn’t thought of that possibility—that his office window, whichdoesface directly out to the pool, provided him with an excellent view of what I had spent part of my afternoon doing—and ofme, wearing very little.
My mouth goes dry at the thought thatImight have been the cause of his arousal. That he might have seen me and gotten so turned on, so hard, that he couldn’t help but get himself off right there, in his office, where anyone could have seen. WhereIsaw.
I lick my lips, shifting in my chair as I squeeze my thighs together as discreetly as I can, feeling that building pressure again.Is he feeling it, too?My mind races with lewd possibilities, that he’s getting hard right now, thinking about this afternoon, imagining me in that tiny bathing suit that I wore out to the pool. I have another sudden flash of imagination—slipping to my knees under the dinner table, sliding his zipper down and freeing his aching cock, wrapping my hand around it and my lips over the tip, taking him into my mouth as he sits there and eats his meal, all the while being serviced by my lips and tongue.
The ache between my thighs intensifies at the thought, the pressure building, throbbing, and my hand tightens in my lap.What is wrong with you?I had a crush on Alessio before, but I never imagined dropping to my knees for him twice in one day, sweetly and submissively tending to his needs while he goes about his day.Why does it turn me on so much?
I wish I understood. I wish I knew anything at all about any of this—and I wish I had someone to ask. But the only person who can answer my questions won’t—and if my suspicions are true, it’s because he wants the same things I do.
Which begs the question that rattles around in my head as I sit there across the table from him, trying to eat lamb chops and green beans instead of thinking about his cock in my mouth—
Whywon’t he marry me, then?
Alessio
Never has anything tested my resolve as much as living under the same roof as Gianna.
I get up the following day with fresh determination to remain nothing more than her caretaker, to think of her as nothing other than my ward, my stepsister by law, myresponsibilityto protect and guide. I put out of my head the thought that her odd behavior at the dinner table might have been caused by her having caught me in the office yesterday—if shehad, I remind myself, she would have been disgusted and horrified, not flirtatious.
If that awkward conversation at dinner had been her attempts at flirting, that is.
Either way, it doesn’t matter. I remind myself of that through breakfast as Gianna makes small talk about the literature classes that she could take at the college, wandering off afterward and saying that she has plans to go up to the library upstairs and look through the texts she might be asked to read if she goes that route.
Which is fine with me. There’s no chance of having to fight my rebellious libido if she’s safely ensconced upstairs with a dusty book and a cup of tea. I can focus on spreadsheets and ledgers, scheduling meetings with Giacomo’s associates, and deciding how what he built will move into this new phase. All of it tedious, with plenty to occupy my time and mind that has nothing to do with Gianna’s—charms.
Until I emerge from the office to track down a quick lunch and nearly run directly into her.
“Gianna!” I gasp her name as I nearly collide with her, grabbing her waist out of sheer reflex to keep her from falling before I even really see her—and feel as if I’ve been jolted with electricity at the moment when my hands touch bare skin.
I look down at her, eyes refocusing, and it takes a moment for my suddenly dizzy mind to comprehend what it is that I’m seeing.
She’s wearing a bikini again. A different one this time—royal blue—but just as perfect a contrast against her smooth skin, the thin ties appearing to barely hold the scraps of silky fabric together, covering only the most necessary bits. I can’t fathom how she got away with buying such skimpy swimwear—but then again, when living at a mansion where no one else will see her, I suppose it doesn’t really matter…orshouldn’t.
ButIcan see her, and despite the fact that I shouldn’t be aroused in the slightest, every bit of blood has already left my brain.
My cock is throbbing. I can feel it straining against my fly, harder than I think I’ve ever been in my life, already leaking pre-cum. We’re a foot away from the staircase, and I have a sudden, vivid vision of spinning Gianna around, putting her down on her hands and knees on the stairs, and thrusting my cock into her from behind as I yank those minuscule bikini bottoms to one side. I can almost feel the tight, wet heat clenching around me,hearher mewl and then cry of pleasure as I sink down to my balls in her wet pussy, and fill her up—
My cock throbs again, a warning, letting me know just how unreasonably aroused I’ve gotten from nothing more than the sight of her in her swimsuit and the feeling of her skin under my hands. I also realize, rooted to the spot as I am, that I’m still holding her there—when I shouldn’t be touching her at all.
I drop my hands as if she burned me, stepping back quickly before realizing that all I’ve likely accomplished is giving her a front-row view of my entirely inappropriate arousal. If she looks down, there’s no way she won’t see my cock, hard and straining in my trousers, a thick and visible ridge.
Thankfully, she doesn’t look down. But her lips curl up in a small, teasing smile that almost,almostmakes me think she’s done this on purpose.
But why? Why would she do that? Why would she come out here barely dressed, trying to seduce a man twice her age—and her stepbrother at that. Why, when soon she’ll have her pick of any of the mafia sons her own age that she wants?
It makes no sense.
“I’m sorry!” Her gasping apology only barely registers with me as she looks up at me, blue eyes wide. “I was just heading out to the pool—”
Gianna breaks off, her eyes fixed on mine—thankfully, because my erection isn’t flagging in the slightest. “Where were you going?” she asks innocently enough. Still, there’s the smallest tinge of teasing curiosity in her voice that confuses me. “Upstairs?”
She couldn’t have seen me yesterday. She can’t be wondering if I’m about to go upstairs and jerk off in the middle of the day. Shecan’tbe teasing me about that.She’s too innocent, too sheltered for such a thing. I can’t think that she would be anything other than disgusted if she’d seen me, if she realized how aroused I am right now. If I let myself believe that—
