by Cathryn Fox
Tell him.
I hear a noise outside the window. God, if anyone walked by, they’d see us, and while that excites the hell out of me, I can’t think about that right now, not when Gio presses his chest to my back, slides his hand around to my front, and starts undoing my shorts. He pops the button. Rough and greedy fingers shove inside my panties. I gasp and feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience. I widen my legs to give him better access, and that action seems to do something to him.
Bent over me, arm around my waist, he says, “Look at you. All wet and ready for me. Maybe you really are a bad girl.”
“Gio,” is all I can manage to say as he shoves a thick finger inside me. “Oh God.”
“You like that, Liv? You like fucking my finger in front of the window, where anyone can see us?”
Who is this Gio? Honest to God, things between us have always been vanilla, and I’ve never inspired this kind of passion in him before. I have no idea what is going on, but I’m not going to question it. I want this more than I want my next breath.
“Answer me,” he says. “Do you like fucking my finger in front of the window or not?”
Something moves in the vineyard, a flash amongst the vines, and I think it’s Luca. Could he be searching for his lover? I can barely breathe as I think about their passion, the kind of passion Gio is currently displaying.
“Liv,” he growls. “I won’t ask again.”
“Oh God.” Admit it! Tell him you fucking love it. Tell him your fantasies. “Please…”
His finger stills inside me, and I nearly sob. He hesitates for a second, like he’s mulling something over, and in a voice that is much deeper than it was seconds ago, he says, “I want you to fuck my finger. Show me you want this.”
Holy shit. Pleasure surges inside me, and I want to pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming. His hot breath crashes over me, tells me I’m wide-awake, and he’s waiting for me to move, do something. He wiggles his fingers lightly, encouraging me to respond, and as my brain shuts down, I rock my hips. Gio growls in response and moves along with me, grinding his hard cock against my back.
Force me to my knees. Make me do dirty things.
He shoves a second finger inside me, making me feel so gloriously full all I can do is whimper. Harder. Deeper. In a move that surprises us both, I press one hand against his and grind my aching clit against his palm. A flash of lust moves through me as my orgasm builds, and I’m so overcome with sensation I begin to shake, almost violently.
“Yeah, Liv,” he whispers into my ear, the gruffness in his voice exciting the hell out of me. “Just like that.”
Hungry for so much more, and feeling a bit bolder, I bend forward and arch my back, wanting him to touch my ass again, spank it, stroke it, push a finger inside it. Own it, already. He curses under his breath, and when the slaps don’t come I sway, rubbing his cock over my ass.
A firm palm presses harder against my clit, deepening the contact. Inside my pussy, his touch grows rougher, his strokes firmer, his thrusts deeper, and the pressure sends me flying over the edge. My eyelids shut against the flood of heat, and I concentrate on the waves of pleasure crashing over me. Easing off my sensitive clit, he runs soft circles around it until I’m spasming and clenching so hard I can’t breathe.
He pulls his wet fingers from my sex, and I angle my head to see him moisten his bottom lip with my liquid heat. He inhales deeply, then runs his tongue around his mouth like he’s savoring the taste of me. My legs wobble. Oh God, that is so freaking hot my sex clenches again. I drag in a shuddery breath as rough hands grip my hips and tug.
“Face me.”
With a hiss, I suck air into my lungs as I turn and once again I see that intensity in him—a wildness—as his eyes meet mine. He’s coiled so tight he looks like he’s ready to snap. I feel a tug between my legs—tight, painful…needy.
He puts his hand on my shoulder and presses down. “On your knees.”
When I don’t move, too shocked, too thrilled at the way he’s acting, he says, “Now.”
His demanding voice resonates through me, and I swallow a raspy breath. Wanting everything he’s offering, I sink to the floor, my mouth inches from his crotch. He rips into his pants, and a cry catches in my throat when his cock pops free. Make me suck you. Make me take it until I choke. He doesn’t bother taking his jeans off. Instead, he shoves them down his thighs, far enough out of the way for me to pleasure him thoroughly.
“Open your mouth.”
As hunger consumes me, my brain shuts down. Acting completely on instinct, I part my lips like I’ve been ordered, and he grips my hair, wrapping it around his hand three times. There is a familiarity in his move, but my body is shaking so hard from excitement—my lust-saturated brain nothing but mush—that I can’t quite figure it out.
I widen my mouth to accommodate his girth, and he says, “Don’t move. Don’t speak.”
I swallow my whimper and go deathly still, afraid to do or say anything and break this moment. My pussy clenches in agony, and I’m certain I’m going to orgasm again.
“Wider,” he commands.
I open my mouth as wide as it can go, and he drags me closer to his cock.
“Let me see your tongue.”
I stick out my tongue, and then he grips his cock, stroking it until pre-cum pearls on his tip. I groan, and he says, “Shh.”
I go quiet, and he rewards me by brushing his crown over my tongue and letting me taste his sweetness. I savor the tangy taste of him, and his fingers tighten in my hair.
“Liv,” he whispers, and I can feel his restraint, hear it in his voice. I rock against him and take him into my mouth until he hits the back of my throat. Unable to help it, I choke a little, and he jerks backward, like he’s hurt me.
I flick my tongue out, to let him know I’m game for anything, that I don’t want him to hold back, and he growls.
Fuck my mouth.
His hips move, inching forward, but he doesn’t allow me to take him deep again. I want to cry, scream at him, take his dick deep into my throat until I can’t breathe. He rocks into me, his touch on my hair softer. I suck him in, wanting to make him crazy, wanting the predator back. His cock swells in my mouth, and I can tell he’s close. I work my tongue harder, wanting him to shoot his load down my throat—something he’s never, ever done before.
I can feel his body straining. Before he lets go, he pulls out and then drags me to my feet. He spins me, puts my hands on the window again, and in a deep, almost threatening voice that excites me as much as it scares me, he says, “Keep your hands here.”
I do as he says, and he shoves my shorts to my ankles. My heart is beating so fast, I think I might pass out. He grips my ass cheeks and widens them, and I whimper, aching for him to fill me there—everywhere.
His cock probes my sex, and in one hard thrust that practically shoves me against the window, he pushes into me. Oh God, yes. I rear back to meet him, and he growls, “Don’t move.” Oh Jesus, moving comes with its own excitement, but staying still, putting myself at his mercy, is like an explosion to my senses.
I pant as he rides me, pulling almost all the way out only to push in again. One arm goes around my waist, walking me backward. My hands slide down the window, my upper torso parallel to the floor, my ass wide open and exposed as he seats himself all the way inside my quivering pussy.
His fingers tangle through my hair, and his commanding touch scorches me. The excruciating pleasure travels downward, and my sex clenches in agony. I want it harder, rougher. This mild sampling of the way I want him to behave is messing with my body and brain.
He fucks me, and I squeeze my sex around his cock. He grips my hips hard enough to leave a bruise. Like that. Just like that. He pounds into me, and even though I’m wrung out and strung out, I orgasm again. Gio must feel it, too, because he’s going at a maddening pace, with hard, blunt strokes that take me to the edge. When I orgasm again, my body tight around his cock, he growls and lets go, p
ulsing high inside me as he fills me with his seed. I suck it into my body, wanting every drop, wanting to taste it, swallow it, keep it in me forever.
“Liv,” he whispers as he completely depletes himself. “Fuck, Liv.”
When his cock stops pulsing, my hands fall from the window, and I stand until my back is pressed against this chest. His hot, damp skin against mine fills me with warmth. I take deeper breaths, and my heart shudders at the hard way he’d taken me, a beautiful taste of the way things could be between us. Love, want, and need overwhelm me, everything I feel for this man rising to the surface, and I sniff as tears threaten to fall.
Behind me, Gio goes quiet, too quiet, and nerves coil in my stomach. Tears fill my eyes and spill as he turns me around. His face softens; the hard ridges are gone as he looks at me, and my damn emotions get carried away on a roller coaster ride.
“Liv,” he says, tenderness stealing over him as he cups my face, his thumb sweeping gently over my cheek to brush the tears away. “Come here.” He drags me closer to his body and holds me for a long time. Face buried in my hair, he breaks the quiet and asks, “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“No,” I answer. But I want you to. Just a little.
He holds my shoulders, and his head inches back. Blue eyes move over my face, assessing me, and then he pulls me to him again. I sag against his hard body, never having felt such a deep level of intimacy with him before. I open my mouth and want to tell him I love him, want to tell him so many things about me and what I need, but a knock on the door has us both separating, and my voice going mute.
Chapter Seven
Gio
“It was a bad idea the last time. I’m not going to try again,” I say gruffly. I met Luca at our usual rendezvous place at the foot of Abrusco—near Olivia’s villa. She still has the key but hasn’t stepped foot into the rental room since moving into the honeymoon suite with me two weeks ago. Soon enough, once the floors are refinished, my wife and I will move into our own cozy cottage, now that the entire resort has been signed over to me.
“You’re reading her wrong,” Luca says. “You’re too close to the situation to see what she wants from you. I’ve been watching her for the last two weeks. Believe me, I know what I’m talking about.”
I shade my eyes from the sun and glance up the hill. “You don’t know her like I do.”
“Which is why I can see things you can’t.”
I turn back to Luca. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
“You’re protective of her, Gio. I get that. But that girl wants to be forced to her knees and taken hard.”
“I did that, remember, and she had tears in her eyes.”
Luca puts his hand on my arm, and I want to drag him to me. I won’t, because I’m married to Olivia, the woman I’m fucking crazy about and don’t want to lose again. Walking away from her the first time was hell. I’m not sure I can do it again, even though in one week we’re supposed to fake a breakup so she can fly back home
“Those were happy fucking tears, my friend.”
“I don’t know.”
“You need to push her. She’ll respond.” Luca sticks a blade of grass in his mouth, leans against the villa, legs crossed, and adds, “I guarantee.”
“She’s a preacher’s daughter, Luca. A nice girl.”
“So fucking what? That doesn’t mean shit.”
“It means—”
“It means shit, Gio. I see the way she looks at you. I see the raw need in her eyes, a girl who aches to be dominated. I would know. We share that, remember?”
I grab his shirt, fist it in my hands and press my forehead to his. “What if I scare her off?”
“What if you don’t? What if this is exactly what she needs from you?” He goes quiet for a long time, then adds, “From us?”
The visual of the three of us together, two halves of my souls coming together to form one, all entwined sexually, is more than I could ever hope for.
“Gio, the papers are signed, and this place is yours. You have the power to turn it into something great. All that’s left is to stop pretending in this marriage. Go do what you have to do.”
I’m just about to open my mouth when a sound on the deck above us reaches my ears.
Shit.
Chapter Eight
Olivia
Sitting in Gio’s office chair in the main mansion, I spin around and glance at the vineyard. Two weeks have passed since I first stepped foot on Gio’s villa, and I have to say, whichever friend sponsored my trip is going to get a big squishy hug when I return. This adventure might not have been what I wanted or expected when I first started out, but coming here, facing Gio again, was exactly what I needed.
The thought of returning to the States darkens my mood, and the smile falls from my face. I’ve been so caught up in Gio and putting together a marketing plan, I almost forgot that none of this was real. That in a week, I’ll be on a plane back to Seattle—to a life I no longer want.
Honestly, returning home is the last thing I want to do. I like being married to Gio, pretend or not. He has a wonderful family, an amazing best friend, and I want to stay to watch him transform this place into a bustling villa.
I adjust my sundress over my thighs as my mind goes back to the afternoon he took me in his office. Sadly, I’ve not seen that side of Gio since. I wish I knew what brought that on, or what I did to inspire that kind of passion, because I want nothing more than to recreate it.
If only I could open my mouth and just ask.
It does beg the question—is he holding himself back on purpose? The marriage might be a ruse, but there is nothing fake about the way he touches me. I see the protective way he looks at me, and the love in his touch fills my heart. Maybe he’s too afraid of hurting the good girl. Maybe that’s the real reason he left me all those years ago. If that’s the case, I seriously need to set him straight, to tell him I want him to own me, possess me, to devour me like Luca’s lover devoured him.
Talk to him, Olivia.
I curl my fingers, worry gnawing at me. I’ve never been able to open my mouth before, but if I don’t say something, I’m going to end up back in Seattle, unhappy and alone. Summoning every ounce of courage I possess, I push from the plush chair and stand. I scan the hills outside, looking for the man I love. He left an hour ago, saying Luca needed to talk to him.
My search for him comes up empty, so I leave his office to find his grandfather going through papers at the front counter.
“Hey Granddad,” I say, since I’m now family and he insists I call him that.
His blue eyes brighten. “Olivia, my darling. What can I do for you?”
“Have you seen Gio?”
He frowns and looks skyward like he’s thinking. “His folks have gone to town for supplies. Perhaps he’s gone with them. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, just some things we need to go over,” I say, which is not a lie.
The door jingles as one of the elderly couples step inside. I give them a smile and inch away as they approach the counter. As Granddad attends to them, I head upstairs to the suite Gio and I share. Since the floors were being sanded in the cottage where we’re to move into together now that we’re married, we decided to stay put in the honeymoon suite—although I still had a few things in the Abrusco villa. It’s not like I had to clear it out, since it hadn’t been rented in ages.
I search for Gio, desperate to talk to him, but when he’s nowhere to be found, I decide to check the winery. I hurry to the brick building on the other side of the property and wave to a few silver-haired guests sampling wine at the outdoor bar. I check the winery, but once again, there’s no Gio. Perhaps he’s in his old bedroom in the main mansion.
The cannon sounds as I hurry through the lobby, giving Granddad a quick wave as I rush up the steps and stand outside his old bedroom door. “Gio,” I say as I knock. I try the knob, and it twists open. “Gio, are you here?” I ask as I slowly inch the door open. My ears meet with silence, but it
’s what I see that nearly drops me to my knees. Air leaves my lungs in a whoosh, and my vision fades as the walls begin to close in on me.
As I stare at the blue hat, I suck in a breath, barely able to fill my oxygen-starved lungs as I rewind and replay the last two weeks over and over in my rattled brain. All the little things niggling in the back of my head, all the pieces of the puzzle, snap into place, and the truth comes to me in a blinding flash.
Gio is Luca’s lover. He’s the powerful man who’d sent Luca to his knees.
I stumble backward, my hands holding the wall for support.
Gio is Luca’s lover.
My mind races, and I blink, willing the world around me to stop spinning so I can catch up. Gio cares about me, but he loves Luca. This has to be why he left me.
Needing answers, I hurry from the main house to the honeymoon suite, then search the vineyard high and low, but he’s absolutely nowhere to be found. Needing to occupy my hands and mind until Gio shows up, I decide to gather the last of my things from Abrusco villa.
When I reach the cottage, I hurry inside and race up the steps, but voices outside stop me. My heart crashes, and I pad quietly to the patio doors. Oh God, it’s Gio and Luca. Could they be…
I quietly open the door and hear, “All that’s left is to stop pretending in this marriage. Go do what you have to do.”
Chapter Nine
Olivia
Tears burn my eyes as I overhear the two lovers discussing me, and apprehension surges inside me. It hurts so much to know that Gio has only been pretending with me, that he doesn’t want me the way I want him. He probably only went at me like a predator that day in the office because he’d been with Luca moments before. It had to be him Gio was thinking about, who he really wanted to be with. It wasn’t that he was afraid to hurt the “good girl” at all. I just didn’t inspire that passion in him. His intensity was reserved for his lover. A tortured sound crawls out of my throat as I spin and rush down the stairs.