Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
He kisses me deeply, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth before giving it a nip. His voice is pure seduction when he orders, “Turn around.”
He pulls out and gives me space to move.
I turn in his arms.
He takes my wrists and places my hands on the edge of the counter. Supporting my stomach with one arm wrapped around me, he pushes in from behind. I moan as he stretches me, arching my back and rubbing against him when he hits that sweet spot deep inside.
He fucks me with a leisurely pace, driving me higher too slowly.
When he leaves me empty, I strain my neck to look over my shoulder. He spits in his palm and lubricates the broad crest of his cock.
My pulse picks up. Anticipation tightens my muscles.
He grabs the root of his cock and positions the head at my dark entrance. Holding me close, he applies steady pressure until the tight ring of muscles gives and my body yields to the invasion. The burn stings. The pain flares when he moves, but I push back, taking more.
It feels so much fuller than before. He goes a lot slower this time, penetrating me inch by inch until he’s fully buried inside. My arms start shaking when he pumps. He plants a kiss between my shoulder blades and slips his free hand back between my legs. I moan when he rubs my clit in circular movements. Tension builds in my lower body until I can’t tell the pleasure from the pain.
When he plunges a finger into my pussy, I come with a cry that tears from my chest. My inner muscles clench around him, sucking him deeper.
“Goddamn,” he groans, uttering a string of unintelligible curses as his body goes taut behind me.
Warmth bathes me inside, adding to the sensation of being overly full.
He keeps still for just a moment before giving me reprieve. The pressure lifts as he pulls out. His seed runs down the crack of my ass and my thighs, marking me as his in the most primitive of ways.
“Stay,” he says, kissing my shoulder.
I bend my elbows and lean my cheek on my arm. He strips naked, getting rid of his jeans, and grabs a roll of paper towels from the counter to wipe his cum from my thighs before scooping me into his arms and carrying me to bed where he cleans me more thoroughly with a warm, wet washcloth. Then he lies down next to me and pulls me into his arms. The gentle kiss he presses on my shoulder warns me that I may not like what he’s about to say.
Stroking my hip, he confesses, “I confronted Rachele.” A beat of silence follows. “She’s pregnant.”
“I’m happy for her,” I say honestly even as my heart aches for Saverio.
He falls quiet, and I don’t stick my finger in that wound by asking him hurtful questions such as how he feels about that.
We fall asleep like that, holding on to one another, each of us easing our pain as best as we can.
CHAPTER
TWENTY
Saverio
Christmas arrives with a snowstorm that’s unusual. Normally, it doesn’t snow until January.
Luigi invited us for the traditional lunch that he hosts at the country club. His invitation list includes his close and distant relatives, a selected group of clients and associates, and some of the men in his employ as well as their families. I declined, saying that Anya is tired, which is the truth.
Wanting to do something more relaxing and enjoyable for her, I asked Livy to join us for a small celebration, and having anticipated the weather, I fetched her last night to sleep over in one of our guest bedrooms. Anya still didn’t want her friend anywhere near my property, but as I pointed out, Anya will be living here indefinitely, and she can’t keep Livy away from our home forever.
The two women are in the kitchen, sipping tea over a breakfast of eggs, bacon, and pancakes when I come downstairs after my shower. A suit would’ve been too formal for the occasion and jeans too casual, so I opted for slacks, a button-down shirt, and a cashmere sweater.
“Sav,” Livy says, her dark blue eyes warming with her smile. She wears a red dress with tassels on the hem that resembles a lampshade, which she paired with red shoes that fastens with straps around her thin ankles. Her gray hair is twisted into a stylish French roll, and big, red, shiny earrings dangle from her ears. “There you are. Would you like coffee?”
I shift my gaze to Anya. In a white dress that hugs her round belly and with her glossy, red curls spiraling down her back, she steals my breath.
“I’m good, thanks,” I say, unable to look away from the honey-brown sparkle of Anya’s eyes. “I’ll grab a cup of tea.”