Uncensored (The Manhattanites #7)

by Avery Aster

  Lex confirmed with a nod and held on to Massimo’s arm, sliding her shoes on. “Oucha magoucha!” she squealed.

  “Watch your step.” He held her arm and walked her out to the limo waiting for them.

  A journalist shouted for her attention. “Lex! Are you and the prince dating?”

  She scowled, turning her head, not understanding the question.

  A photographer snapped a photo while calling her attention. “Signorina Easton.”

  “No. No. No.” Lex drew her arms up to her face to block the flash.

  “Come on, Miss Easton. Give our readers what they want,” the photographer encouraged, speaking in English.

  “Eh, fuck it.” Massimo watched her chest rise as confidence came over her. She let his hand go and stepped out from his shadow. Lex put her hand on her hip, giving the press lineup her bare right leg. Her red dress was elegant and not risqué. The implication and tease with the press made them cheer.

  POP. Flash! The flashbulbs went off.

  Lex gave them a wave.

  Clickety-click. POP. Flash! The press applauded as if she’d given them a show.

  Blowing them a kiss, she finished, “Good night, fellas. Arrivederci.”

  Massimo loved it when she tried to speak Italian. “Good job, bella,” He held the limo door open for her and helped Lex with the final two steps to the car.

  “Masi, let’s hit your bedroom.” She swatted for his ass again.

  He grabbed her just as she started to trip and fall against the limo’s door.

  “I wanna see Miguel’s artwork.” She pressed on unscathed, her doll eyes blinking as if nothing happened.

  He held his breath, sliding her into the backseat. You are bossy, and I know you want to see more than Miguel’s artwork.

  A Hung Morning for a Hangover

  The dogs were barking.

  Huh? What the…

  A forceful snore resonated in Lex’s ears, similar to a brass trumpet booming off, commanding attention and resembling a royal laugh she’d grown fond of.

  Her dry eyes blinked as she felt a heavy arm cinched around her naked waist. Holding her breath, she looked under the woven sheets entangling them. She was in the buff. The prince as well, lying next to her, his manhood up against her backside as if it was another average morning.

  But nothing was average about this situation.

  Cock hard and moist with precum, it was obvious Massimo’s morning woody rose epic in every proportion.

  Earth to my muffin. Earth to my muffin! Do you remember this? I sure as hell don’t. They’d left The Fashion Ball, drank Bellini cocktails and feasted on various homemade pastas.

  Kaboom. A sharp pain hit her forehead. She’d gotten drunk. Flashbacks to the prince carrying her up to his bed and taking off her Valentino sat in her mind. But she must’ve blacked out. Why did her tongue taste peachy?

  Dragging her closer across the mattress into his chest, Massimo muttered, “Buongiorno, my principessa.” But he didn’t bother to open his eyes.

  The dogs barked from the hallway. So close. So loud.

  “Nino!” Massimo shouted toward the bedroom door for the dog to stop barking. “Those dogs drive me nuts.”

  Okay, now my head is killing me.

  Tk, tk, tk. A faint scratching at the door replaced the dogs’ barking.

  “Good morning to you, too,” she responded.

  He went back to sleep.

  Maybe having a woman in his bed remained the norm. But for the last few years, she’d slept alone.

  Not wanting him to doze off, she nudged him. “Did we—”

  “Make love?” he finished with morning grog in his voice. “Do you not think your breasts,” he ran his hand over her right nipple, “would be sensitive and sticky from me licking them all night long?” Massimo tweaked her left nipple with his fingers to say, Bad girl for not remembering.

  Arching her back, she wanted more. “Maybe.” She closed her eyes into darkness as Massimo continued giving her body the TLC she’d craved. Lex’s nipples became aroused and sensitive as he licked around each, sucking on one, then the other. This feels so…good. I forgot how wonderful waking up with a man in your bed is. Oh, I love mornings.

  His attention turned from her left breast to her right, and she became wet. Massimo’s lips circled wider upon each lick. His fingers glided over her breasts down her stomach and rested at her apex. He cupped his palm between her legs and grunted, “You are wet, bella.”

  “Uh-huh,” Lex confirmed. She’d be even more wet if he kept this up. My pussy has been wet since the second I met you.

  Massimo’s pupils nearly swallowed up the colored irises. His gaze grew serious and intense. “Do you not think your clit would be swollen this morning from my tongue giving it the attention you deserve?”

  “Possibly.” He’s such a tease.

  Holding himself up by his arms, he brought his body over hers, looking her over with seductive intent. Black curls messed over his forehead. Full and kissable lips, long minx eyelashes, and a five o’clock shadow decorated his face, making his jawline even more pronounced. With his body pressed against hers, Massimo’s sweet leather and musky smell was enough to make her drunk all over again.

  Lex felt crushed under his muscles and weight.

  Massimo’s cock rubbed her pussy lips.

  She’d rather go for her fuck-it bucket than beg and be rejected a second time. Though her urge to scream fuck me heated up inside her. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!

  “And do you not think your tushie would be on fire this morning from me pounding your tight asshole all night long?” Cupping his hands under her body, she felt desired in his embrace.

  “Definitely.” She wrapped her legs around Massimo, holding on to his arms. Lex wanted him to fill her with his cock. She imagined making love to him would be an all-day affair. Her ass didn’t hurt, her pussy wasn’t swollen, and her skin wasn’t sticky. “I don’t remember much. Can you refresh my—”

  Cock planted between her legs, she felt him attempting penetration. His fingers glided around her asshole. Massimo brought his face over hers and kissed her with a nip to the lip. “You got drunk, bossy and demanded I take you to bed. But you fell asleep the second we came home.”

  “Did I?” She remembered at that point, and he spoke the truth. She hugged him, running her arms against his developed shoulders. God, he’s built.

  “You are the first woman ever to fall asleep in my arms without us—you know.”

  “Aww, I’m honored. Do I get a watch or a pin from the Women You Haven’t Screwed club?” Unable to retract the shit she spewed, she hated her own sarcasm. She gave him a nod to say sorry. “I admire your restraint. You’re always composed, never sarcastic. I can see you thinking before you speak. It’s written all over your face.”

  “I am happy to teach you. It will take us many years to curb your mouth.” He smiled, but she knew he was serious.

  Birdie and Eddie as influences weren’t any help on the matter of etiquette.

  He continued, “In all honesty, about last night—you are easy to sleep next to. My bella smells fruity, and your skin is soft.” He caught her earlobe between his lips and sucked it in, tracing his tongue over the C shape, sending heated breaths and a snarl across her senses.

  Ohhhh, not the ears. It drives me insane—ohhhhhh. She straightened her legs as her clit tightened.

  Knock, knock. A thump at the door interrupted and a familiar voice from the other side called, “Buongiorno. I have your breakfast and paper, sir. May I come in?”

  “Go away!” Massimo shouted.

  “Your Majesty, my hands are rather full,” Rocco agonized.

  “One second.” Lex gripped Massimo’s jaw in her palm, tapped his cheek with her fingers and kissed him.

  Massimo covered her with a sheet then wrapped another blanket around his waist and stood, opening the door for Rocco. “Grazie.”

  Rocco entered and deposited the tray by the bed. Lex saw two
espresso pots, two fruit cups, juice, two melons, a brioche basket and the newspaper. “Scusami for the dogs waking you. They’ve been crying at your door all night. Your Majesty, they aren’t used to sleeping without you.”

  “Per favore, keep the dogs outside.”

  “Sì, Your Majesty.” Rocco nodded and left the room, giving Lex a wink on his way out.

  She smiled, turning her face over her shoulder. “So cute. The dogs sleep with you. You don’t have a harem loaded with girls in bed with you, but pooches.”

  He rolled his eyes in obvious annoyance at her comment. “Let me get you a robe.” He dropped the sheet covering him and stood, completely and utterly naked. Cock out, he turned his dimpled ass for the bathroom on the opposite side.

  Lex reached her hands up as he returned with a housecoat. Massimo held the cotton wrap out for her.

  Standing, she slipped her arms through the sleeves and tied the cushy fabric around her waist. Lex imagined she would’ve felt less vulnerable, but she didn’t. “Thank you.”

  “Di niente.” He went to the bed’s edge and ate his breakfast from the side table, naked.

  Overwhelmed by the attraction, Lex distracted herself and went for the espresso while Massimo scoured through the paper. Unable to ease her hangover, she asked, “Massimo, did they put anything in the Bellini other than Prosecco and peach juice? My head is pounding.”

  “Bella, the restaurant mixes their Bellini with—how do you say in English—peach schnapps to make it taste sweeter.”

  “And schnapps has liquor in it, yes?”

  He shot her a look to say yes, you drunk. “Sì, you consumed about four grain alcohol shots. I will never tell you what to do.” Massimo winked and acknowledged her headstrong ways. He returned his attention to the paper.

  “I don’t drink often.”

  As she reached for a sip, ready to bring the spinning room to a standstill, he shouted, “Here we go!” He handed over the paper. “Our stock at Girasoli went up this morning by twenty points on the Borsa Italiana stock exchange.”

  “Fabulous, Massimo. But why?”

  “Buona press coverage equals good stock values. The article illustrated Girasoli’s new alliance with the United States.”

  She sipped her coffee while examining the news. The headline read, “Girasoli Prince Dating New York Fashion Designer Lex Easton.” She read as much in Italian. She coughed as the hot java went down the wrong pipe. “This is the Milano News, not some celebrity tabloid. How does this help your stock value?”

  “Girasoli’s export division is challenged, and for executives to see me last night with a top American designer helps with perception.”

  “Unbelievable. I’m now heading up your foreign relations?”

  “If you think last night didn’t help your image as well, then you are not as smart as I thought.” He raised one eyebrow and glanced at her to turn her attitude around.

  Intellect was her best asset, but she sure as hell didn’t think Massimo noticed. He was right, though. She was familiar with how the press built you up, tore you down and then shot you higher once again. She’d ridden the PR machine many times.

  A North American spin would soon follow. Taunting memories from the media came unbidden. She thought about Alexandra the Great sleeping with a prince.

  I shared Alexandra stories with him last night. Ughh…But the press may not be negative—not yet, anyway. She explained, “All I care about is finishing your designs and getting my own collection completed.” Lex needed to stay focused, not get distracted. Fashion Week was around the corner.

  “The paper is in Italiano. Want me to read it to you?” His voice assured her the article would be fine.

  “Umm…I’m nervous.” She weighed the question. Did she want to bring down her mood?

  “If the article is negative, I will stop reading, sì?” He held the paper in his lap.

  After a few seconds, she nodded. “Read it to me.”

  “Prince Massimo Tittoni seen last night at The Fashion Ball with American designer Lex Easton.”

  So far, so good. No negative jabs. She ate a crunchy bite from a cornetti pastry topped with citrus marmellata. The baked bread and jelly melted in her mouth.

  Massimo read on. “Lex Easton, daughter to the late rock ‘n’ roll star Eddie Easton, redefined wholesome glamour at The Fashion Ball. In a signature red vintage Valentino, Easton offered a refreshing contrast to Milan’s scantily clad.”

  A compliment. “Jemma didn’t get upset over my dress alteration. She did give me an idea. A line extension under your label for sexy gowns, very Dolce-ish, I think she’d have fun with it, and you’d make a fortune.”

  “We can talk about your genius ideas with Jemma later today. I am sure she would be open to it.” Massimo looked down at the paper and read out loud, “Miss Easton isn’t typical Massimo arm candy. For starters, she runs a multimillion-dollar fashion empire.” Hesitation grew as his facial muscles twitched.

  “Why are you stopping? Keep going,” she urged.

  He lowered his voice but continued reading. “Maybe the prince should take this as his cue to settle down, as he remains a stallion yet to be tamed. Last night marked a rare occasion for the world to see Tittoni with only one woman on his arm, not two or three. Insiders speculate Easton may keep him on his toes.”

  She giggled then said, “That article is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “You think so, do you?” Throwing the paper to the floor, he pulled the sheets back from the bed. “Do we not have some unfinished business?” Massimo looked her up and down as if pleased with his capture.

  “Come make my skin sticky and my body ache.” She held out her hands, waiting for him to pounce on her.

  Knock, knock.

  The door flew open.

  Suddenly, Nicolo, Nino and Noe jumped on the bed.

  “Shit!” Massimo yanked the sheet to cover himself.

  “Buongiorno, my darlings!” Jemma greeted them with a stiff smile. “Scusi to interrupt, but the dogs wanted in. I came by to pick up our American, but can see she’s not ready.”

  “Morning, Jemma.” Lex noticed Jemma gave her body a good once-over.

  “Lex, I have to buy some supplies. I’ll be at the showroom in an hour.” Jemma turned her attention to Massimo who stood covered, and she shook her head. “Massimo, I assume you’ll drop Lex off?”

  “Sì,” Massimo sniveled, chewing his lips together, pissed.

  “Ciao, ciao, my darlings.” Jemma turned, leaving the door open wide. Her heels click-clacked, echoing in the hall as she headed down the stairs.

  Lex speculated if Jemma’s intrusion was a sweet revenge strategy for her three-way surveillance with Luigi and Rocco yesterday. She figured the morning’s false start was a payback.

  His black hair stood on end as he ran his fingers through it. He stepped into his slippers without taking his eyes off her. Massimo’s lips curled in amusement as he mumbled in Italian. “You drive me crazy, bella. You fucking drive me crazy.” He paused, shaking his head, holding in his laugh, and then let his humor rumble.

  The dogs barking became increasingly louder.

  Ouch, ouch, ouch, my head. This place is a zoo. “Where are you going?” Lex asked as she studied his backside. With a dimple on each cheek, she’d never thought of herself as a butt girl, but his hiney was adorable. Everything on Massimo is lovable.

  “Eat your breakfast,” Massimo ordered.

  “Come back to bed.” She rested her face against Noe’s belly, when the dog crawled up next to her. She stroked his gray coat. “Such an adorable fur baby.” Tongues hanging, the dogs panted while looking at Massimo, waiting for their master to acknowledge them.

  At the bathroom’s door, he turned and faced her. His cock remained hard, thick and ready to make its mark on her. In annoyance, he stroked it, holding it up higher. “I am going to take a cold shower.” He stepped into the bathroom and slammed the door. Even when Massimo seemed angry and horny, his u
nwavering ability to laugh made him admirable—among his many other qualities.

  The water started in the shower and she heard him mumble Italian cuss words through the walls. One loud thump sounded, and she estimated he’d punched the spa wall in frustration.

  Deconstructing Massimo, Snip Snip

  “Argh, can’t you join us in the showroom?” Lex asked Massimo as he turned the bright yellow Lamborghini Aventador up to Girasoli’s headquarters. I want to spend more time with you.

  Despite the unapologetic supercar’s V12 engine, Lex noticed his driving in the city seemed less ostentatious and hasty, but heads turned as he maneuvered down the brick side streets nonetheless. Milan’s fashion district occupants knew his signature roadster collection. People on the curb kept pointing and trying to look through its tinted windows.

  “Luigi requested a last-minute meeting with me at the mansion, but would not say what about,” Massimo replied and gave Lex a puzzled look with a shoulder shrug.

  “Spend the morning with us,” she insisted.

  “You two ladies need to do your design thing,” he responded. “I will get in your way. Besides, I’ll want to take you into my office, make love to you over the fabrics, over my desk, over my lap. I would be a distraction.”

  Love? She bit down on her lower lip, the sharp pain bringing her back to reality. “Please don’t use the ‘L’ word with me in such a context. You mean you want to have sex with me.” He’d made it pretty clear he didn’t give love—ever. Or had his feelings changed?

  “I will not become your fuck buddy. I do not care for casual terms. Lex, you are more special than that. Tonight, when we have more time, we will discuss us.” Massimo shifted the racer into park and hit the parking brake.

  “Us? Must you put a term or label or what the heck ever on this?” Lex didn’t want to. “You spoke your piece last night. I’m not one to pressure people.” She attempted to deliver her response with a straight face.