by Bethany-Kris
Liliana tasted like tart, hot candy under Joe’s tongue. He couldn’t bury his face deep enough between her thighs to sedate the fucking hunger he felt for this woman. Every tremble of her legs, and every squeeze of her cunt around his fingers as he fucked her with his hand and his mouth drove him insane.
Every gasp …
Every plead …
Every-fucking-thing.
They had ended up in a coat room. Or something like that. He really hadn’t paid too much attention because he had been far too distracted by the sight of Liliana on her knees as she sucked him off the very second he closed and locked the door.
That was a justifiable reason to be distracted.
Nobody ever looked as hot like that as she did.
And then he couldn’t fucking take it anymore, knowing he was going to blow his load if he didn’t stop her right then and there, so he got Liliana on her back instead. On a table—or a coat table, whatever in the hell they used this thing for.
It was sturdy enough.
Liliana was just panting her way through her third orgasm as her fingers threaded in Joe’s hair began to tug and pull. It stung like nothing else, but he fucking loved it, too. Her back was arched high off the table, and her dress was pushed up around her hips. He wasn’t sure where in the hell her panties had landed when he ripped them off.
That’s all delicate lace like that was good for anyway—to be seen, and then completely ruined.
Like pretty wrapping paper before the prize.
“Again,” Joe murmured, lapping at the inside of Liliana’s thigh. “You’re going to come for me again, Liliana. And then again.”
“I can’t—”
Wrong.
She could.
He would just show her.
“You won’t even need my mouth on you this time,” he said, ignoring his painfully hard erection rubbing against the side of the table. He was practically fucking dry humping it anyway just to give him some goddamn relief. If it got any thicker, his dick was going to punch through his boxer-briefs considering he hadn’t bothered to do anything more than tuck it back in after he’d pulled her mouth off his dick. “Just my fingers, my girl.”
Liliana shuddered. “Lies. I can’t come again.”
“You can.”
She shook her head.
Joe just smiled.
Game on.
“God, I love a challenge,” he murmured.
He soaked in the way her sex clenched hard around two of his fingers when he eased them back inside her wet, tight walls. She hissed low, and those fingers of her came back to find his hair when she lifted her back off the table again.
So pretty.
So responsive.
Her body had to be fucking sensitive. A little too sensitive, maybe.
He started a massaging rhythm against the upper, fleshy part of her cunt that he knew was going to make her come, and come fucking hard. And with each stroke of his digits against her G-spot, Liliana started to shake a little more.
“Oh, my God,” she breathed.
Spun.
So breathless.
High, even.
He lived for her sounds.
“Are you going to give it to me?” he asked.
Her green eyes flew wide, and he saw the way her pupils blew open when her gaze landed on him. Her pretty pink lips—all that lipstick was long gone, now, stained on his cock—fell open in to an O-shape and her chin trembled.
“I think so,” he said.
The sound that came out of Liliana when she came a fourth time was unlike anything he’d ever heard. Raw, and harsh. Yet, still so fucking sexy and beautiful. Like she couldn’t believe what she was feeling, but he bet it was worth it, too.
Christ.
She was worth it.
“Fuck,” she mumbled.
Sobbed was more like it.
Joe chuckled as he kept massaging her G-spot even through her orgasm. He felt her arousal soak his fingers, and slick down his hand. Jesus, she was so wet, it was crazy. He didn’t stop his intent to make her come again like this. Even as she sobbed her way through yet another G-spot stimulated orgasm.
The most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
Joe stood straight, flipped Liliana over, and pulled her to the edge of the table so that her feet could touch the floor. It took two quick smacks of his hands against the back of her thighs for her to open her legs for him. She had made a wet spot on the back of her dress, and probably left one on the table, too.
Damn.
As hot as that was …
Well, they’d figure out how to hide it later.
She shuddered and shook when he rubbed his hands over her ass, and then moaned hard and deep when he fished his cock out, and stroked it through her folds. Every touch of his dick against her cunt made her whine, and jerk.
“Sensitive,” she whispered.
Yeah, he bet.
“This is all mine, isn’t it?” he asked.
He heard her swallow thickly. “All of me, Joe.”
“You trust me, don’t you?” he asked, letting his dick slide into her pussy and soak his length. Then, he dragged his cock higher until it came to rest at her ass. Liliana didn’t even tense, but let out a sweet laugh. “You’re so fucking wet right now—let me fuck you like this. Trust me.”
“Are you going to make me beg for it?”
“I won’t even have to.”
“So cocky.”
“Confident, actually.”
Because it would be better like this. Better when she was strung out on sex, and feeling thoroughly fucked. Better when all she would want to do is beg to be filled and stretched out to her max like nobody else could do for her.
Just better.
“Please,” Liliana whispered.
Jesus.
Yes.
That was all he needed to hear.
He used his cock first to tease her, and test the ring of her tight ass with just the head. When he felt her trying to back onto his cock, he pulled away, and got his fingers wet instead. He’d never heard her moan like she did when she had two of his fingers—and then three—filling her ass, and stretching her open.
It was only when her wild eyes looked back to find his, and he could see the beads of sweat starting to form on her backside, that he put his cock back where he wanted it to be the most.
Slow going.
One fucking inch at a time.
Halfway, she tensed, and sucked in a sharp breath. He felt those inner rings of muscles bear down hard on his length, enough to take his own air away.
“Shit, relax,” he uttered.
Liliana wet her lips. “Just fuck me, Joe.”
“Demand and beg when I’m ready, babe.”
She cursed.
He laughed.
And then he was sliding all the way in because her little distraction had been enough to let her body relax. Once his cock was seated balls-deep into her ass, he pushed his hands hard against her lower back, and kept her pinned to the table.
He couldn’t have her moving.
Fuck, not right then.
He’d bust a nut, and ruin everything.
“Joe?”
He eased up a bit on his hold. “Fucking killing me here, Liliana.”
“Not nearly as much as you’re killing me.”
Yeah, he bet.
“Won’t you fuck me now?” she asked.
God, yes.
And he did.
Harder than fucking ever.
Joe paced the length of the alleyway for what felt like the hundredth time.
At least.
His father kept his calm tone on the other end of the phone, and while Joe usually appreciated Damian’s laidback demeanor, today wasn’t quite the same. It wasn’t helping with his nerves at all.
“Joe,” his father snapped.
It brought him back to reality in a blink.
“What?”
“How long have you been pacing now?”
Joe’
s gaze narrowed as he looked around the alleyway. “How do you know I’m pacing?”
“I can hear your feet making a permanent path in the concrete, Joe.”
Oh.
Well …
“I’m trying to calm down,” Joe muttered.
“You don’t need to calm down.”
“You don’t know. You’re not here!”
“Joe, come on, now.”
“I am coming on, Dad. I’m freaking out.”
“He likes you,” Damian murmured, “and you know he does. You have no reason to be acting like this.”
“Says you.”
“All right, you know what? You call me when you’ve talked to Lucian.”
“Why?”
“So, then I can tell you that I told you so, son.”
His father hung up the call.
Without a goodbye, too.
Asshole.
Joe shoved his phone back into his pocket, and then wiped his sweaty palms along his pant legs. Jesus Christ, this should not be such a nerve-wracking thing. He wasn’t even the type of man who got nervous about this kind of shit.
Then again, he’d never done this before.
So, what did he know?
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
All right, that was enough of that. Joe sucked in a breath, and refused to sit out here and panic anymore than he already had. At most, this meeting could end one of three ways.
One—very well, and he got what he wanted.
Two—badly, and he was refused.
Three—Lucian could just kill him.
Maybe the last one was a little dramatic, but they had their things. Joe went to the worst-case scenario first, and worked back from there.
That was his thing.
Stepping up to the back exit door of the restaurant, Joe knocked on it and stepped back to wait. Not two seconds later, the door was opened up, and a Marcello enforcer poked his head out.
“Hey, Rossi.”
Apparently, his face was familiar, now.
People even knew his name.
Or … his last name.
“Is—”
“Yeah, boss is waiting for you,” the man said.
Joe blinked.
What?
He hadn’t told Lucian he was coming because this had all been a little last minute. He’d been in New York for a week, but had to get back to Chicago for some work that needed to be done. He’d stayed long enough for Liliana to finish her shows for the week, but now she was done, too.
Done entirely, she said.
Ballet was no longer a need or want for her.
She was flying out to Chicago with him tomorrow. She missed his family, and God knew they missed her if the many texts and calls to him were any indication. They would like his little surprise when she showed up to dinner with him tomorrow evening.
“You coming, or you gonna stay out here looking foolish?” the enforcer asked.
Joe shot the man a look. “Nice.”
“Yeah, well, I try.”
Joe followed behind the enforcer, and let the man direct him through a busy, bustling restaurant. Lucian was seated in his usual area—the private dining section. The man had a host of papers and files spread out on the table, and didn’t even glance up when Joe approached.
“Have a seat,” Lucian said.
“Do you ever take vacations, or break from … this?” Joe asked.
Lucian shook his head. “Rarely.”
“Your wife must love that.”
A smile curved Lucian’s lips.
“My wife is my break and vacation, Joe.”
Ah.
Okay, then.
“How long were you planning to pace and talk on the phone in the alleyway before you gained enough courage to come in here and speak with me?” Lucian asked.
Joe blinked. “How did you know—”
“I know everything, or the cameras tell me.”
Again … ah.
“Ask,” Lucian said quietly, still going through his files.
“You don’t know if I came here to ask anything.”
“Yes, I do. You probably feel like you waited too long to ask as it is, Joe. Frankly, I would not have waited as long as you did, but I appreciate that you were able to hold yourself back. So, please, put yourself out of this misery, and just ask me what you came here to ask.”
Joe bit his inner cheek.
He glanced down at his clenched hands.
He had never been more sure of anything in his life than this.
“I want to ask for your blessing, Lucian.”
Finally, Lucian glanced up from his work to stare at Joe. He didn’t know what he expected to see staring back at him, but the calm assuredness in Lucian’s gaze was not it. That took him by surprise more than anything else.
“To marry her,” Lucian clarified.
Joe nodded. “Yeah.”
“When do you plan to ask?”
“I don’t know … just that I will.”
Lucian leaned back in his chair, and stared out the window at the passing people on the sidewalk. “She’ll say yes, Joe. I hope you’re not worried about that.”
He wasn’t.
Much.
“And what about you?” Joe asked. “Do I get a blessing from you?”
Lucian smirked. “Joe, I would have given you my blessing months ago—the first night you met her, actually, and noticed that she was a dancer just by the way she walked. What kind of man notices that sort of thing about a woman, anyway? I suspected … the kind of man who would notice everything else about her, too.”
“You heard that?”
Because they had all seemed rather distracted at the table.
Lucian chuckled. “I told you—”
“You see and notice everything.”
“Exactly. I’d like a call before you ask so that I know, and can let her mother know.”
Joe nodded. “Will do.”
“And give her something more than asking her in bed,” Lucian grumbled. “That’s not the story I want to be told.”
Glancing away, Joe smirked. “I will keep that in mind.”
“You better.”
EPILOGUE
Three months later …
“YES, CELLA,” Liliana huffed into the phone, “I will meet up with you before I head to Chicago next week.”
“Promise?”
“You know I’m not even moving there yet.”
“Feels like it,” her sister said sadly.
Liliana slowed her rushed movements to finish getting dressed—she was already late to class, and didn’t want to miss the whole damn thing. Still, she also didn’t want to hear her sister sounding like Liliana had just kicked her fucking puppy.
“Chicago isn’t that far away, Cella.”
“Far enough.”
“Yeah, I guess, huh?”
“Lucky I like Joe,” Cella grumbled.
Liliana smiled. “He’s hard not to like.”
She had another couple of months left before summer break was there, and then she would be heading to Chicago to live full-time with Joe. Next year, she would start her second to last year of school before she could move onto counseling domestic violence victims within hospitals and shelters.
She wanted to do this more than anything. She knew her sister—and her littlest sister, too—was going to miss her, though.
That kind of made it hard.
“I’ll be over,” Liliana said. “Promise, Cella.”
“Okay. And you know, even though I’m sad that you’re moving, I’m also really happy that you’re happy, Liliana.”
“Yeah, I know. Love you, huh?”
“Love you, too.”
The knock on Liliana’s door made her say goodbye quickly to her sister. She knew what it was going to be before she even moved to open the door.
Every Friday—it never failed—Joe sent her flowers.
Roses.
Lilies.
Carnations.
A different flower for every Friday with a little note from him. Unless, of course, he was in the city to visit with her, then he was there, and she didn’t need flowers. She still liked his reminders that he was always thinking about her, though.
She didn’t even try to hide the smile when she pulled open the door to greet the delivery man, but she froze in place when she saw Joe on the other side.
Tiger lilies in hand.
Leather jacket and dark-wash jeans.
Down on one knee.
Joe smiled.
Liliana grinned.
“Thought you might like to get them delivered personally this week,” he said.
Liliana’s gaze caught the beautiful solitaire diamond sitting in a white-gold setting, resting on the top petal of the tallest flower.
Where it couldn’t be missed.
“This is nice,” she said.
A quake colored up her words.
Just a little.
“Liliana.”
Her gaze darted back to his.
Joe looked like everything to her.
Life.
Love.
Forever.
That’s what he looked like kneeling there.
“I’m not very good with words—not the type, Tesoro.”
“You don’t have to be, Joe.”
“But I hope you know that you’re my one, Liliana. You had me captivated from the first second, and you’ll have me stuck that way until the last one, too. I don’t want it any other way.”
And he was hers, too.
“Marry me, my girl.”
Did he expect any other answer?
“Yes.”
THANKS!
Thank you so much to all the ladies who helped me during the process of writing this book. London, for the cover design, and of course, being the first to read Joe and Liliana’s tale. Eli, for your editing and support. Tracy, Mia, Tori, and Felicia for finding all (hopefully, haha) my typos. Your work and love is so appreciated, truly.
I would be remiss if I didn’t also mention Michael Stokes, and his photography which provided the image for the cover of this book. Antoni Bialy will forever be my Joe, and seeing that shoot come up on Twitter was, by far, a highlight of my month. So, thank you.
To my readers—thank you for still being on this journey with me. I love you all.
To my family … one more down. A million more to go.