by Bethany-Kris
Cecelia’s hands were hot on his skin, burning a feverish path and making him stifle a groan. If she didn’t slow the hell down, he wasn’t sure he could control himself. The girl might have been wearing all white, but she looked beautifully sinful as far as he was concerned. Especially when she was touching him.
Antony chuckled when her lips dotted across his throat. “Christ, where did this come from?”
“No babysitters,” she said simply.
Antony supposed that explained a lot.
Her fingers roamed over his exposed stomach and chest like she was taking the time to learn all the dips and lines of his muscles. She paid extra attention to the rows of abs leading down to the dark dusting of hair that disappeared under the line of his slacks. He let her soft hands touch him and stayed silent when she unbuttoned his pants and pulled the zipper down.
Without warning, her hand slipped under his briefs and found his hardening cock. She kept her unashamed, open gaze locked on his as her fingers wrapped his shaft in a tight grip and stroked up to the tip.
Antony’s words and air caught in his throat, choking him. Her hand felt like warm silk on his dick. It didn’t take long at all for her firm, quick strokes to get his cock harder than fucking steel and throbbing for something hot, wet and tight.
“How’s that?” Cecelia whispered.
“Fantastic,” Antony managed to say.
“Mmm, good.”
Christ.
Just the sound of her voice alone turned him on like nothing fucking else. He’d waited a long damn time to feel her like this, to have her alone and now she was the one surprising him. For such an innocent girl, Cecelia sure seemed more than willing to step out of that purity cloak keeping her wrapped up tight. She wanted to learn him, clearly.
He wanted to learn her, too.
“Let me undress you, Cecelia,” Antony said.
Cecelia’s bottom lip caught between her teeth. “Only if you promise to be quick about it.”
If there was anything he adored the most about Cecelia above all else, it was her subtle confidence. Sometimes it was just the flick of her gaze that spoke volumes. She wasn’t the kind of woman who yelled to get her point across and she didn’t need to make a scene to be noticed.
“I can’t do that, Tesoro.”
Cecelia glanced up at him, cocking a brow challengingly. “Why not?”
“Because there are far too many inches of your skin that I want to explore, taste, and feel. I want you all over me. I want to know every single part of you. All the spots that will make you sing the sweetest sounds, I want to learn. So no, I can’t be quick, Cecelia. Not tonight.”
“But you have forever to learn those things,” she pointed out softly.
“Sure, but you only have one first time, baby.”
Cecelia smiled, her gaze flicking away from him. “I know exactly who you are, Antony. You do know that, right?”
“Who I am?”
“Cosa Nostra. The things you do. I know all of those things.”
Antony never really thought of it that way. “So?”
“I just wanted you to know when you say things like that and love me like you do, I don’t care about any of it. None of it matters to me as long as you’re mine, okay. None of it.”
He’d remember that forever, then.
“You’re kind of perfect, you know?” Antony asked, holding his wife’s face in his palms so he could look at her for a minute.
“Kind of?” Cecelia asked.
“Completely perfect, Tesoro.”
“For you.”
Something balled hard in his gut at her statement. It was like with those two words, Cecelia had made a promise to him he never asked for, but one he still needed to hear. Possessiveness rolled through his insides like a wrecking ball.
Cecelia was his.
For good.
His.
“Only me,” Antony said.
“Only you.”
Then, the take-charge attitude she previously had seemed to disappear. Her hand on his cock stilled and she wouldn’t look him in the eye. Antony wanted to see his unabashed wife come back, not the shy girl who had suddenly taken her place.
“What’s wrong?” Antony asked.
Cecelia shrugged her lace covered shoulders. “I don’t know what to do and I don’t want to disappoint you, that’s all.”
“You can’t. Trust me. This is all about learning, Cecelia. Don’t ever feel embarrassed or ashamed. Tell me what you want or need. If it feels good, you’re doing everything right. And not just good for me, but good for you, too.”
“Is it good?”
“So good.”
Cecelia smiled. “Do you want me to keep going?”
“Do whatever you want, Cecelia. Ask me for whatever you want. I will always give it to you.”
“Promise?”
“Forever, sweetheart. Ask me or tell me. Whatever you want to know or learn, I will teach you. There is so very much I want to teach you, Cecelia Marcello. I bet you’ll love every single second of it, too. You just have to open that pretty mouth of yours and say the word.”
Chapter Eight
“Say the word,” Antony repeated, his tone turning huskier than he expected.
Her hand down his pants finally released his cock. Antony didn’t mind though he was hoping to get it back there at some point. She trailed her hands up his sides, her fingernails scraping along his flesh and driving him insane.
“Tesoro?”
Cecelia shivered. “Undress me.”
“That all?”
“Touch me.”
Antony grinned. “And?”
“Love me.”
“Always, sweet girl. Ti amo, belissima donna.”
“Ti amo,” she echoed.
Cecelia turned under his urging hands. Antony gathered her caramel colored curls in his hands and swept them to the side off her shoulder. He removed the pins keeping half of her hair upswept one by one, letting them fall to the floor. The pearl necklace around her throat took the same path.
Slowly, he unbuttoned the eyelet pearl buttons down the back of her modest dress, letting his palms slip beneath the gown to feel her smooth shoulders and skin. With every swipe of his hands over her body, taking her dress down her body further, Cecelia’s breaths picked up speed.
“Don’t be nervous,” he told her. “You’re so beautiful.”
“You haven’t seen all of me, yet, Antony.”
“I don’t need to. Not to know what I already do. I still want to see all of you, though. Turn around.”
Cecelia did as he demanded, keeping a firm grasp on the bodice of her gown, holding it up in place. Antony wrapped his hands around hers, untangling her fingers from the dress. When the lace and silk fell, pooling at her waist, Cecelia met his heady stare again.
Antony let his peripherals do the work as he watched a million and one emotions flicker over his wife’s face. She was clearly nervous, but she was still so willing, too. She wore nothing to cover her breasts under her dress. Her body was toned and trim and the curve of her waist fit his hand perfectly.
Just like he knew it would.
Pale, creamy skin pebbled as his hands roamed over her chest. The perky mounds of her breasts filled his palms. His thumbs rolled over her taut nipples and Cecelia let out a shaky sigh in response.
“Good?” he asked.
“So good,” she whispered.
“I will never take what you’re not willing to give to me, Cecelia.”
She nodded.
Antony stepped closer to his wife, pushing the chiffon skirt of her gown down around the curve of her hips until the mountain of material dropped to the floor. He couldn’t help but fist the sides of her white lace panties, pulling her into his body.
Cecelia didn’t even stumble as her hands splayed wide to the muscles of his stomach.
“I’m going to take it slow—take you slow,” Antony said, sliding his one hand over the top of her panties until he cou
ld slip his fingers underneath. She jerked at the sudden touch but didn’t move away. As he spoke, his fingers explored the folds of her pussy, feeling her thighs tremble as the tip of his digit swept the slit of her sex. “So slow, Cecelia. Until you’re shaking all over, soaking the bedsheets, and screaming my name.”
“Only make promises you can keep,” Cecelia whispered.
“Oh, it’s definitely a promise.”
One of his fingers dipped into her core, finding her dripping wet and hot just like he expected. He pressed his palm to her clit while he worked her pussy with only one finger, wanting her to feel good, needing her body willing and wanting before he took her with more. Her inner walls hugged his digit tight as a soft, breathless gasp answered his teasing.
“More?” Antony asked.
Cecelia whined under her breath, widening her legs just a little. “Please.”
“How about something different, hmm?”
Before his wife could respond, Antony was on his knees. He lifted her heeled foot so he could use his tongue to strike out at her skin all the way up to her inner thigh. The more of her he tasted, the sweeter she became and the wetter she turned. Christ, she was so fucking hot on his tongue.
“Jesus, you taste fucking divine,” Antony growled against her pussy.
Cecelia made another noise Antony couldn’t decipher. One of her hands found his hair, tangling in to hold tight while her other circled his wrist on the hand that was still thrusting a slow beat in and out of her drenched pussy.
“I … I don’t know … Oh my God,” she moaned through clenched teeth.
Antony slipped a second finger into her sex, feeling her body take his intrusion easily. Her muscles flexed around his digits as another cloying cry fell from her lips.
“It’s going to feel so, so good, Tesoro. Hot in your gut and cold in your veins. It might make you feel numb when it crashes down, or you might feel sensitive. When it builds up, you have to let it go. Don’t fight it, Cecelia. It has to build to fall, sweet girl.”
“Th-this … this …” Cecelia trailed off when Antony’s mouth encased her sex.
She tasted heavenly. So perfect. Tart and needy in his mouth, flooding his taste buds with an essence that was all her, new, and untainted. He flicked his tongue against her clit, dropping her leg around his shoulder before using his hand to brace against her lower back.
With every withdrawal of his fingers, he spread them to open her for him. He wanted her full, feeling like every part of her was completed by him. His tongue struck to her clit with the rhythm of his fingers working her pussy. Every so often he’d lick further down to gather the fluids from her sex onto his tongue.
When Cecelia’s cries got louder and her tremors increased, he pulled his mouth away from the heaven between her thighs, placed a kiss to the soft, trimmed patch of hair above her sex, and watched her fly through her first orgasm. His fingers didn’t relent in their pace for a second. Her head tipped back and her hips moved in time with his hand.
“Goddamn, you look good, bella.”
Cecelia laughed lightly, the sound full of air and total bliss. She regarded him from up above with a whole new glimmer of knowing in her eyes. She’d bitten her lips a rosy red and a flush colored her skin pink.
Good was a damned understatement.
“Is it going to get better?” she asked.
“So much better.”
“Stop wasting time, then, Antony.”
He obliged to her demand, removing his wet fingers from her still shuddering sex as he stood. Cecelia didn’t seem to care that her come was dampening his lips as she kissed him hard. The wicked sensation he’d been denying every time this seemingly innocent woman was too close to him was back again, but this time, he was more than willing and able to feed into it.
Antony wrapped his arm around Cecelia’s lower back and laid his other flat to her stomach. Being mindful that she didn’t trip over her dress on the floor, Antony forced her to walk backward across the hotel room floor, taking every single step with her and kissing her all the while.
She didn’t taste entirely sweet anymore. There was a bit of dirt coloring her up, now. He liked that a whole lot.
“Want you so fucking badly,” Antony muttered against her mouth.
Cecelia pushed his pants down around his hips right along with his briefs. When the back of Cecelia’s knees hit the edge of the bed, he let her fall onto it. Antony kicked off his pants and briefs as quickly as he could before climbing on the bed where his wife was already moving upward to make room for him.
She widened her thighs, letting him fit in-between.
And he was a perfect goddamn fit for her.
Cecelia tugged his jacket and shirt off, tossing them aside. The tie hung loose around his neck, but she made quick work of getting that off, too. Antony’s hands weaved into her hair, feeling her chest press into his as he grinded his bare erection into her sex. She arched off the bed, whispering his name in the softest way. The sound dripped over his nerves like liquid gold.
“Are you aching, yet, Cecelia? How badly do you want me, bella? Tell me.”
“I can’t breathe,” she muttered, kissing the underside of his jaw. “I’m hot all over.”
“Hold onto that feeling, okay. Remember that right now.”
“Okay.”
Antony held her hands above her head with one of his. He used his other to guide his painfully throbbing cock to her entrance. She was more than wet enough to take his length, but that didn’t mean she was accustomed to the girth. He took her in one sharp, quick thrust. Instantly, he was seated inside her shuddering pussy, feeling her body flex around him and wrap every inch of him in her. She was like crushed velvet milking his cock.
Cecelia’s hands on his shoulders stilled before her fingernails dug deep into his skin. Those demure eyes of her widened, a shimmer glazing over them with wetness. Antony leaned down to catch the first tear that escaped with his lips, kissing it away and shushing a soothing sound.
He grazed his nose along the apple of her cheek, wanting to take the immediate pain away and wishing it would pass quickly.
“Relax,” he told her. “You need to relax, baby.”
Cecelia nodded, but air cut past her lips in a hiss.
“Shhh,” he breathed, beating back the urge to start moving, to feed his own desire. He couldn’t do that to Cecelia. “Remember the heat, hmm? Think about how it feels and makes you so damned breathless. Slow, Cecelia.”
“Until I’m shaking, sweating, and screaming your name,” she finished for him.
Antony laughed under his breath. “Just like that.”
Finally, her inner muscles started to release. Her fingernails scraped along his skin as she canted her hips upwards in a teasing manner. It was just enough to make a growl escape from his chest. She was so fucking tight he couldn’t take it.
It took everything inside of him not to pound into her until he was coming and marking her as only his. Nobody else ever had this woman like he was right now. Nobody ever felt her under them, had her flavor in their mouth, or knew what she looked like in only her skin.
Nobody but him.
He wanted to make sure she never even thought about somebody else after tonight.
“Christ … don’t do that,” Antony warned.
“But—”
“Not until you’re ready.”
Cecelia’s hands ran down over his neck and chest. “I’m ready. Move, please … God, I need you to move, Antony.”
“Yeah?”
“Sì.”
“Cazzo Cristo,” Antony ground out. “Thank fucking God.”
She was paradise around him when he started a slow rhythm that was sure to take her high again while driving him insane. Her body was a glorious heaven that felt a lot like his own personal hell intent on taking him under with her wants.
With every drive of his hips, Cecelia’s legs tightened to his waist. Her heels bit into his lower back as she managed to find her own pa
ce that matched his. She met him thrust for thrust, her breaths catching hard as she arched off the bed, exposing her neck to him.
Antony took that chance to bite and suck at her sensitive skin there, surely leaving more of his marks behind.
“More,” Cecelia said, her voice a whimper in his ear.
Antony cupped her jaw and forced her to look at him. Her eyes were glittering again, her pupils dilating with bliss as he fucked her a little faster. Sweat beaded on her skin and her makeup smudged under his handling. Cecelia sucked the tip of his thumb into her mouth and bit down with a sexy little grin.
“You taste like me,” she said.
Antony swallowed hard, pressure building in the base of his spine and promising release. “You’re going to taste like me all fucking over when I’m done with you.”
“I better.”
• • •
Antony kissed a path down Cecelia’s spine and let his fingers dance over the swell of her backside under the soft sheets. Her tired, breathless giggles muffled into the pillow as she woke up from his teasing touches.
“Buongiorno, mia bellisima,” Antony murmured against her skin.
“Good morning.”
“How’re you feeling?”
“Like heaven.”
Antony chuckled. “Yes?”
“Yes. And like if you don’t touch me more, I might scream.”
Oh, he was more than willing to feed into that need.
“Have I created a monster?”
“A terrible one,” she replied sweetly.
“Perfetto.”
She was already wet, hot, and needy when his fingers found her sex. Slowly, he worked her pussy with his fingers until she was shaking, mumbling his name into the pillow, and her hands had fisted the bedsheets.
As she came, Antony fitted himself behind her and slid home with a single thrust that sent him spiraling into instant bliss. She had to be tender and sensitive, so instead of hard and fast, he took her soft and slow.
“Christ, there’s nothing more beautiful than you underneath me, Cecelia.”
Cecelia tossed him a look over her shoulder. She had his marks littered all over her skin. From his fingerprints, to his kisses, to even the redness of her lips from his stubble and teeth. There wasn’t a piece of her that was unclaimed by Antony Marcello.