by Fiona Cole
The sun shined through the window and illuminated her freckles and deep dimples. Fuck, she was stunning.
The warmth that had come and gone when we first started all this was nothing compared to the fiery inferno that pushed the limits of my control. It wanted free, and I didn’t know how much longer I could deny its existence.
The song changed again, this time a slow Nora Jones. I pulled her back in my arms and swayed us back and forth. “We’ll be docking soon for dinner. I planned somewhere special for our last night.”
Her head tipped forward, thudding her forehead to my chest. “How is it already the end of two weeks?” she groaned.
One more week.
She set me up for the perfect opening, and I didn’t even need to concoct a reason. The guilt pressed in a little harder, but I breathed past it. It wasn’t a lie.
“How about we don’t go home just yet?” Her head jerked up, wide eyes meeting mine. “We could check out France. Maybe try some wine in the countryside?”
I watched the idea sink in and saw sparks of hope. “What about work?” she asked hesitantly.
“Work is more than fine,” I reassured her. I needed her to agree to this because if she fought me, I’m not sure my guilt would allow me to make it happen. I pressed harder, pulling her close to brush my nose along hers. “I want another week in paradise with you.”
I said it to convince her, but the words were true. Part of me didn’t want to go back and face the challenges in front of us.
She studied me, and I tried to convey the truth over the lies. Emotions swirled in her eyes, and a slow smile pulled at her lips. She looked at me like I hung the moon just for her. I got my first taste of it when I offered her a chance with the new project, and seeing it again made me realize I wanted her to look at me like that forever. It was the same way my mother looked at my father, and I never thought I’d find anything near what they had.
But with her in my arms, her gaze adding the final drop of fuel to the blaze burning through my resistance, I knew I had found it.
I loved her.
Somehow, despite how we began, I loved her.
The truth of it finally broke free and bled through my veins, filling every inch of me. The guilt pressed in harder, almost too much to bear.
“Okay. Yes. Take me away,” she said, happiness making her giddy.
Fuck the guilt. Fuck the revenge. I’d come up with a better solution—hell, I could just give her the company. I’d figure it out.
If she’d let me. If she didn’t hate me in the end.
Thirty-Two
Vera
“Are you all of a sudden scared of flying?” I asked, laughing a little.
Immediately, Nico’s leg stopped shaking, and he splayed his palm over it like he could hold it still.
“No. Why?”
“You’re just jittery.” I’d been watching him the last two hours of our flight home, and he’d been showing nervous habits I hadn’t thought he was capable of.
He shrugged it off. “Just too many cups of coffee. Thinking about work and what we have to do when we get back.”
We. I loved hearing it. I was part of his life—his business, and after being shut out all my life, I couldn’t get enough of it from him. Visions of working my way up the ladder at his company until it was ours filled my mind, making me giddy at the thought. At times, when I really let my mind wonder and hope, I imagined children. I imagined creating our own company and passing it on to our kids, no matter their gender.
Just like with dancing, I wanted to start new traditions with Nico.
As soon as the conversation stopped, his leg started bouncing up and down again. This time he rested his elbow on the armrest and chewed his nail while he stared off.
Watching Nico act nervous was…unsettling, and I wanted to soothe him for whatever it was.
“How about I give you something else to think about?” I suggested softly, sliding to my knees.
I inched over and pressed his legs wide enough to fit between. His hand left his mouth and gripped the armrest like he was on a rollercoaster without a seatbelt.
He hissed when I dragged my nails up his thighs. “Vixen.”
I smiled and continued my task of unfastening his belt. He lifted up to allow me room to tug his pants down enough to free his cock and balls. His length stood tall and proud, thick with veins stretching root to tip. His heavy balls resting above his briefs. He liked when I played with them. I learned that, not with words, but by listening to his groans when I rolled them in my palm. Feeling him jerk in the back of my throat when I tugged and sometimes slipped my finger behind them to play.
Holding his stare, I leaned forward and pulled first one and then the other in my mouth.
“Fuck, Verana.”
“Do you like watching me suck your balls between my lips?” We both knew he did, but I liked teasing him with words as much as he did me. “Do you like knowing my pussy is getting wetter by the second because I like it too?”
“Verana,” he growled in warning.
“How about when I kiss my way up the back and flick my tongue through your slit? Or is your favorite when you force your fat dick past my lips and push so hard tears slip free?”
“Fuck, yeah.” His hand snapped out and gripped my hair, holding me in place. “I want to fuck that tiny throat. I wonder if it’s tighter than your little cunt.”
My cheeks heated. He’d pushed against my gag reflex, but never too far, and I didn’t know what I wanted.
Actually, I did. I wanted him to take control and take what he wanted from me. When I stayed silent, he figured it out, and his grip tightened. One of the things we discovered with each other was how much I liked it when he was rough with me. I’d had gentle and sweet—all the typical college encounters a good girl has.
The way he shoved my face against this crotch was anything but what a good girl would do.
“Suck my balls.”
I obliged. Not that I had much choice with my face buried against them.
Once he was satisfied, he leaned close, looking right in my eyes, so I couldn’t miss the promise of his words. His finger slid across my already swollen lips. “I’m going to slide my cock all the way down that throat until your nose is pressed to my stomach. And I’m going to stay there until I’m satisfied. Then, I’m going to pull back and do it again. I’ll control your breath. I’ll control it all. And when you think you can’t take any more, I’ll fuck your face. You won’t be able to stop me because your hands will be busy with your tits, pinching and pulling until they’re rosier than your flushed pussy. If you try to stop me, I’ll start all over again. Understood?”
Desire infused every inch of my body. I sat beneath him panting, so desperate I almost spread my legs around his shoe and rubbed my clit against it until I came.
Swallowing hard and reminding myself that I was safe with Nico, I nodded.
“Good girl.”
He pressed a sweet, tender kiss to my lips, savoring the moments before we were anything but sweet or tender. When he pulled back, his eyes flashed with an emotion I couldn’t place. I tried to place it, but he jerked me back and stood.
“Show me your tits. Show me how hard your nipples already are.”
The cool air conditioning caressed my chest, pulling my nipples even tighter. I went to pinch them like he ordered, but his voice stopped me.
“Not yet. Keep your hands at your side until you need to tap my thighs. No other reason.”
My hands dropped to my side and fisted, doing all they could to not grip the tender buds until I came.
He hefted the weight of his cock in his palm and held it to my lips. “Open.” As soon as they parted a little, he pushed past, groaning the further he slipped inside. “All the way. Tip back and breathe through your nose. That’s it, baby.”
He hadn’t even gone all the way, and already he sounded breathless. His head pushed against the tight opening of my throat, and I immediately gagged. Instead
of pulling back like he usually did, he waited for my throat to relax between gags and pushed further.
“Shit. Yeah. There it is. Fuck, that’s good.”
Oh my god, his length pushed further, and tears burned my eyes, sliding down my cheeks. All of a sudden, my nose was pressed to his groin, and he held me there tightly. With his cock in my throat, he tipped my head back and forced me to look at him. He didn’t pull back but instead stayed still like he wanted to live there forever, smearing my tears across my cheek before bringing his thumb to his lips.
“You’re fucking beautiful. Every time you fight my fat dick inside your throat, you squeeze me tighter. All I want to do is stay here until I flood you with my cum.”
Unable to help myself, I whimpered. Both from the throbbing between my pussy and my nipples and from the discomfort of his length down my throat for so long.
He finally slid from my lips and let me gasp for air, but only for a moment because as soon as he left, he pushed right back in. Again, he held himself there and told me how beautiful I looked. He told me about how he would do this again, but he’d lay me out, so he could watch his cock push against my throat. He told me he’d take pictures, so I could see how stunning I looked.
Each time was just as hard as the last, and by the time he pulled out for the last time, I couldn’t tell if I was crying from want or from gagging. All my makeup had been wiped off, and I could only imagine what a mess I looked like. At least to anyone else. Nico praised how messy I looked, let me know how perfect I looked.
“Now, Verana. That was slow. This will be fast and rough. You’re mine to use, and I want to use you up. You keep that mouth open and your hands on your nipples.”
My trembling hands un-fisted from my sides. He said it was for him only, but I sat on the precipice of coming and knew it was for me too.
As soon as I put the slightest pressure on my buds, pleasure shot through me so intense, I gasped. He took the opening, gripped my hair back out of my face so he could watch, and shoved in hard. Unlike last time when he stayed, he jerked back out and pushed back in again. He used me like he promised, uncaring of my gag reflex. He didn’t wait for my throat to relax, he pushed past it, fucking deep into my throat like he did my pussy.
I rolled my nipples and squirmed side to side; the slightest friction between my thighs almost too much. His thrusts got erratic, and his other hand joined the first, gripping either side of my head, forcing me down when he pushed forward. His moans filled the plane, and I pulled hard on my nipples, afraid that if I didn’t hold tight, I’d drop my hand between my thighs and finger myself.
“Fuck, Verana. I’m gonna come. Yes.”
He pushed all the way back, his cum shooting straight down my throat to where I barely tasted a thing. But then he pulled back, sending his next spurt of cum all over my tongue. He pulled back again when the final drops of his orgasm merely painted my lips. I tried to lick it all up, but it dripped down my chin.
He panted above me but quickly dropped back in his seat, hunching over to push me back on my heels and kicking my legs wide. His fingers swiped at the cum from my chin before shoving me back to rest on my hands. The position pulled at my hips, but the most discomfort was how it took away my ability to rub my thighs together. I pulsed with need, and my legs were spread wide, my skirt riding up. He shoved it the rest of the way up and pushed his cum-covered fingers under my panties and rubbed hard circles over my clit.
I cried out, my arms almost giving out. My eyes squeezed shut, and I gritted my teeth, the direct contact almost too much for my swollen bud.
I tried to lift my hips against his hand, but I had nowhere to move. Finally, I peeled my eyes open to find his glued to my face, panting just as hard as me. His arm moved furiously. “Nico. I can’t.”
“You can.”
“It’s too big. Fuck. Please.”
“Nothing’s bigger than me. Now come.”
He pinched my clit between his middle finger and thumb, tapping it with his pointer finger, and I exploded.
I was surprised no one came running at the cries I let out. I sounded like I was dying, screaming like I never had before. My whole body vibrated, the prolonged torture too much to take. More tears leaked free, and I screamed until my voice broke. The orgasm moved to another and another, one tiny orgasm after the next until Nico finally took mercy on me and slowed his fingers, letting me come back from the suspended explosion. When he finally sat back, I was crying, unable to catch my breath. He pulled me onto his lap and held me close, letting me cry out whatever he set free.
I didn’t even know what had me crying, but the emotions drowned me, and all I wanted to do was confess my love and climb inside him forever.
“You did amazing. So perfectly beautiful. I can’t wait to get you home and make love to you on every surface we can. We can mark it as our own—make it our home.”
My body wanted to react to the way he said “make-love” instead of fucking, but I was too exhausted to think, let alone move my mouth and ask him. I tucked it away for later and curled tighter.
And that’s how we spent the rest of the flight. Me in his lap as he whispered sweet nothings in my ear. At one point, he shifted me astride his lap, slipping inside and moving my hips slowly, not taking his eyes from mine once. When we finished, he slipped free and continued to hold me close, not bothering to wipe away the cum slipping down my thighs.
I didn’t bother to wipe it away even when we deboarded and climbed inside the back of the car.
While I relaxed the closer we got to home, Nico’s nervous bounce and nail-biting came roaring back.
“How about we order in and open the red you liked so much? The one we got in Sicily,” he suggested.
“Okay. That sounds nice.”
While I smiled, Nico nodded, his smile there, but forced.
“After we unpack, we can eat, and then…then maybe we can talk. I-I have something I want to tell you.”
The hesitant, stuttering words gave me pause. The way he sounded like he was choking them out sent off alarm bells. But I didn’t want alarm bells. I wanted my husband. I wanted to start our future together. Maybe tonight was the night.
“Okay. I have something I want to tell you too.”
My heart skipped a beat in my chest, knowing I was setting myself up in a way I couldn’t get out of, but I didn’t want to.
New York welcomed us back with the first cold weather front, and maybe a fire and red wine—naked—would be the perfect time to let him know I loved him. If he tried to run, I’d sway him with my body and convince him of the benefits of staying.
He gave me a firm nod, squeezing my hand tight.
I took extra care to get out of the car as my torn panties were stuffed in Nico’s pants pocket. Hours later, and I could still feel the stickiness between my thighs. I bit my lip, blushing at the secret no-one else knew but him.
He took my hand in his and led me in. We’d just cleared the glass doors to the lobby when a haggard-looking version of my father shot up from a chair and stormed over. He didn’t have a tie; his shirt was wrinkled, and his hair strayed in all directions. He stomped closer, his face growing more and more red, his eyes glued to Nico.
Until he got only a few feet away, he acted like he didn’t even see me. But then his ire redirected to me, and I took a step back, never having felt such anger directed at me.
“What the fuck did you do?”
Thirty-Three
Nico
“Fuck,” I whispered to myself. Vera’s hand gripped mine tighter, and I snapped into action, moving to stand between her and her father.
“To your own fucking family, Verana. Your mother would be ashamed of you.”
“I-I don’t—what?”
Her tiny, stuttering voice stabbed at my back, and it was like an out of body experience. I stood to the side, watching the bomb slowly drop on us all, knowing there wasn’t anything I could do.
“Verana, let’s just—” I tried to get h
er upstairs, but her father was having none of that.
“You spoiled little fucking brat.”
“Papa. I—”
“Just because I wouldn’t give you a fucking job, because it’s not your role in this family—something you’ve known and accepted since you were little. You lash out and marry this fucking snake and give him your shares. Is that what it was about? You married him so you could work with him to take my company out from under me. You wanted to steal it like a fucking thief? Your mother raised you better. How dare you.”
Verana stepped out from behind me, the shock of the moment wearing off, and standing on her own again. She took an aggressive stance matching her father’s and lost the mousy voice from moments ago.
She was fierce and passionate and beautiful and fire.
I loved her.
And I stood there, unable to stop that I’d lose her.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t give him my shares. And it’s not your company. It was Mama’s.”
“Exactly. The last damn thing I had left of her,” he said, his voice almost breaking over the words. “And now, it’s not even hers. This fucking prick stole it from her—from me.”
Vera’s brow furrowed, struggling to process his accusations.
“Lorenzo, this is not the place to have this discussion,” I interjected, trying to diffuse the situation. I needed a second to gather myself, formulate a new plan beyond where I took Vera upstairs, told her I loved her and that I was giving her the company. I just needed a second.
“Fuck you,” he spat. “The time would have been in a boardroom where you face me like a man. Not some coward letting his lawyer do his dirty work while he gallivants around Europe fucking my daughter.”
“Papa,” Vera gasped.
“Don’t act all good now, Verana. You go against our family and plot with our enemy. He has taken everything, and it’s all because you couldn’t follow the goddamn rules.”
“Nico isn’t our enemy. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”