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“Are you still aching for me, Evelyn?” he asked, voice rough with his own suppressed lust.
“Yes.” I nearly moaned at the sound of my name in his deep, accented voice. That sound alone would’ve made me wet, but my thighs were already slick from arousal. It would’ve embarrassed me, but Massimo’s nostrils flared like a predator who’d just scented his prey.
“Fuck, I can’t wait to taste you again.”
He positioned himself between my thighs, his broad shoulders spreading me wide. His face was so close to my heated sex; I could feel each of his warm breaths on my desire-slicked skin. My clit pulsed madly, but he didn’t touch me where I needed it most. He studied my most intimate area as though it was a priceless work of art, a treasure to be coveted.
“What a pretty pussy,” he purred, the praise vibrating over my swollen folds. “And it’s all mine.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, as though I could hide from the intensity of his lustful gaze. I jerked against the ropes, instinctively trying to cover myself. Instead of inciting panic, the sense of complete helplessness to resist him only stoked my lust. There was no room for modesty with Massimo. He wouldn’t allow anything to separate us, not even social decorum. His deviance freed me in a way I’d never known, and I became a being of pure carnal desire.
“Look at me while I make you come,” he ordered.
My eyes snapped open, immediately finding his molten gaze. He kept me locked in his flame blue stare as he licked my sex in a long, lewd lave of his tongue. He groaned as though I was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted, and he began feasting on me like he was starving for me. Like he was a man possessed by the singular need to learn every caress and flick that made me moan.
“Massimo. Massimo, Massimo…” I began panting his name in a litany, like a prayer. This beautiful man was more than my protector: he was my new god.
“That’s it,” he urged, stroking me to a frenzy. “Scream my name, dolcezza.”
He sucked on my clit, and I had no choice but to obey. His name was ripped from somewhere deep in my chest, a primal, visceral release. Ecstasy exploded through my body, igniting at my core and rushing out in a shockwave to my fingers and toes. I writhed, completely lost in bliss. His fingers dug into my thighs, pinning me in place as he continued to feast on me.
My clit was so sensitive, the pleasure morphing into a keen pain that was almost unbearable. I whined and tried to wriggle away from his mouth.
Fresh pain bloomed on my inner thigh. Massimo had captured me in another wicked bite. This time, it was a punishment for trying to evade him.
I cried out, but the pain was over. He kissed the mark and returned his attention to my pussy.
“I’m not finished,” he growled, then settled back between my legs.
I wasn’t sure how long the sweet torment continued, and I lost track of my orgasms. When my throat was hoarse from screaming his name, and all I could do was whimper and give him every last drop of my pleasure, he finally relented.
He loomed over me, the world a bliss-filled haze around him. All I could focus on were his stunning eyes and the masculine perfection of his beautiful face. I heard the sound of his belt unbuckling, and my gaze lowered to his impressive erection. He fisted his thick cock, hissing his own pleasure as he touched himself.
I jerked weakly against my restraints, wanting to touch him the way he’d touched me.
His palm pressed down on my belly, just above my sex. “Stay still, farfallina. I’m going to mark you.”
His hot cum lashed my breasts, and a different kind of pleasure glowed in the center of my chest. My satisfaction was more than just physical; I’d made this powerful beast of a man come undone. He’d taken control of my body, my pleasure. He’d staked his claim over me, and now, he was marking me as his.
“Mine,” he snarled, lips peeled back from his white teeth in a purely primal expression.
The corners of my eyes stung. No one had ever looked at me like that. No one had ever wanted me so desperately. Like I was everything to him, and he would do anything to possess me. It should alarm me, but I was too drunk on bliss to be scared. I’d been alone for so long, and Massimo wasn’t letting me hide from him. He kept me exactly where he wanted me: in his arms, under his protection.
His mouth crashed down on mine, and he branded my lips with a soul-searing kiss.
Chapter 21
Evelyn
“Istill don’t want to go to Colombia,” I told Massimo honestly on our way to the airport the next morning, as though I could somehow convince him to turn the SUV around and take me…
Where? Where did I want to go?
Not back to Stefano Duarte’s home, the heart of a dangerous cartel.
Not back to the shabby, cramped apartment I’d shared with George in Mexico City.
Back to Albuquerque? Where I didn’t have any friends, my family didn’t care about me, and the future I’d envisioned with George was in ruins?
