by Shanna Bell
Jazzy’s treat was pizza in a little joint a few blocks from them. They had barely gotten in the door before she paused.
“You think I can write this off as a business expense?” she asked, almost making him laugh.
“I’ll hook you up with my tax guy.”
She didn’t even protest, still on the high of her happiness. “I can’t believe this is actually happening. I mean, of course this is what we worked for all this time, but now it gets real. We can start developing more, making the program more stable. Hopefully, in the next year, we will have the beta ready. Just think of all the good we could do, finding lost and kidnapped children. This is why we didn’t accept a job at some big corporation in Silicon Valley.”
This seemed very important to her, as if it was personal, and he couldn’t help but wonder why.
Before he could ask any further, they were interrupted by a waitress, who dropped the menu cards before them.
“Hi, I’m Mandy, and I’ll be taking care of your table for the night. Wow, I love your hair. It’s so thick and glossy, like sable. I wish mine was like this. Can I touch it?” she asked. She reached in and ran her fingers through Jazzy’s curls without waiting for her permission.
Gio put down his menu with a snap. “Don’t touch her hair.”
The stupid woman rolled her eyes and giggled, as if he’d fucking cracked a joke.
“No need to worry, handsome. I don’t think she’s batting for my team.” Wink.
She actually winked.
His jaw clenched. “You don’t let go of her right now, I’m gonna break your fingers.” He wasn’t joking.
Her smile disappeared, and she stepped back.
That’s right, bitch. Look me in the eye and tell me I won’t hurt you.
“I… I’m sorry…” Mandy turned pale, spun around, and hurried off.
Jazzy gave him a disparaging look. “Really?”
“She was rude.” Also, he didn’t like it when other people touched what was his. He immediately recognized the lie. He didn’t like it when another touched Jazzy, which was a strange feeling. He’d never cared before, when a woman he was with got attention from others. Quite the opposite, actually; he reveled in it, considering it a reflection on him. The difference was that Jazzy carried his last name. She was his, whether she acknowledged it or not. His to protect, his to fuck, and his to touch. No one else, just him.
“You do know you scared her shitless, right?”
He would have lost his touch if he hadn’t. “That was the point. She’s lucky I haven’t called her boss and got her fired. Yet.”
Wait for it, wait for it…
“Don’t you dare! For all you know, she could be a single mom in desperate need of this job.”
“I don’t care if she’s providing for a fucking orphanage. But, since you’re so worried about her, why don’t we make a deal?”
“What kind of deal?” she asked suspiciously.
For all her outer bluster, Jazzy was soft-hearted. The world would chew her up and spit her out if she continued with that sentiment. He should point that out to her, toughen her up, but for some reason, he didn’t.
“The second we enter our bedroom tonight, you give me whatever I want, and I’ll make sure she doesn’t get fired. And before you ask, yeah, I’m petty like that. I’ll have her kicked to the curb without giving it a second thought.” He saw the defiance in her eyes, but he didn’t care. He was mad at her too, for not stopping the woman touching her.
“I can’t believe you,” she hissed.
“Yet you do.” He never bluffed. She should know that by now.
She grabbed the menu and gave him a glare. “What exactly do you mean by ‘whatever I want’? Just because I don’t want to be semi-responsible for an innocent woman losing her job, doesn’t mean I’m going to agree to whatever crazy thing you might ask. For all I know, you’re into golden showers. In which case, I’d rather just let her take the fall.”
Good. They had reached the negotiating stage. She was testing the waters, while at the same time, telling him she had hard limits. He liked that she didn’t immediately knuckle under. It was inevitable, though, but tonight wasn’t that night. The night he would receive her full submission. For that to work, he first needed her loyalty. To earn her loyalty, she needed to trust him. What better way than to begin with her body?
Even though he wouldn’t consider Jazzy insecure over her body—and why should she be, her every curve was fucking gorgeous—her earlier remarks about his model exes had gotten him thinking.
“I want you to wear a suit that I’ve had designed for you.”
He could see the immediate interest in her eyes, not holding back her desire. He’d never met a woman this attuned to him sexually before. This bold, interested, and responsive. She was fucking addictive, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
He took her home after finishing their dinner, even letting her pay. He couldn’t remember the last time—if ever—a woman had paid for his dinner. Despite her glee of treating “the billionaire mogul” as she put it, he decided it would be the last time.
They didn’t see Mandy again, but Jazzy did leave her a generous tip, after giving him an admonishing glare.
Raoul had them back home in no time. He could see the anticipation in her eyes, as they took the stairs up to their room. Though he wanted to rip her clothes off, he kept himself in check. This wasn’t the plan. Tonight, he had another fantasy to fulfill.
She sauntered inside their bedroom, dropping off her clothes on the floor, a smile on her face. “So, what kind of outfit do you want me to wear? A nurse outfit? Or perhaps a nun’s? Or…oh…” She came to a halt when she spotted the box on her dressing table.
“Put it on while I take a shower.”
He cut the shower short, anticipation making him impatient to see Jazzy in the black latex catsuit he had made for her.
When he walked naked into their bedroom, she lay sprawled on the bed. Covered in latex from her neck to her toes. Every gorgeous curve of her.
“Well, this was unexpected,” she drawled. “Didn’t know you had a latex fetish.”
“I don’t.” But he was beginning to think he had a Jazzy fetish.
“You like exploring new things then. I should have guessed.”
The catsuit had two holes in the front, displaying her large breasts. The rest of her was covered, for now. Until he got his hands on the invisible zipper that started below her navel and went down her pussy, all the way around to between her ass cheeks.
He grabbed a butt plug and a vibrator from his drawer, and threw them on the bed. Her eyes went wide when she saw the toys. He got hard just by seeing her bite her bottom lip in anticipation.
“Legs wide. Hands on the headboard. Don’t move them.”
As she did what he requested, he crawled on top of her, settling between her legs. His hands went to her breasts. He loved playing with them. They smelled and tasted delicious. Her sweet nipples begged for attention. He played with them for a while, all the while ignoring her moans.
“Please, Gio.”
Let it never be said that he let his wife beg. For long.
He pulled up a knee, pressing it against her core.
“Oh, yeah.” She started rubbing her pussy against his knee, looking for more friction. It wasn’t enough to get her off, though, and they both knew it.
One by one, he sucked her nipples inside his mouth, giving them equal attention. Her breasts stood out like snow against the black latex that surrounded them.
He pulled back, lowering himself over her body, until his face was between her legs. With a swift move, he pulled down the front zipper of her suit, exposing her belly and going lower.
When she tried to suck in her stomach, he gave the soft spot a bite. “Don’t do that again. Your belly is mine too. Every part of your body is mine,” he said, licking and sucking the soft roundness of her belly.
He pulled the zipper further down until it exposed
her beautiful pink flesh and the globes of her ass. She was already soaking wet. When he pushed a finger inside her hot cunt, her inner walls strangled his finger.
He dipped another digit inside her, while lapping up her sweet cream. “All mine.” Then he speared his tongue inside her. Her ass came off the bed, as she bucked upward.
“Oh yeah,” she breathed. “You are so good with your tongue. Deeper, please, just please.”
Gio didn’t stop fucking her in slow, sensual strokes, lapping up her liquid heat, until she screamed out his name, and collapsed in a heap underneath him.
Without giving her any time to recuperate, he grabbed the large vibrator from the bed. With slow, small circles, Gio pressed it into her pussy, giving it a light tap to ensure it got in as deep as possible. When she arched her back, he knew he’d done his job. Next was the moment he had been looking forward to for weeks.
He retrieved a bottle of lube from the bedside drawer and royally squirted the gel into his hand. His slick finger started to rim her puckered little hole as he applied the gel inside and out. When he applied an amount onto the butt plug as well, he was sure he wasn’t going to hurt her—too much—for her first anal experience.
He cupped her plump cheeks in his palms and spread them wide so he could see the hole he desperately wanted to get into. With slow, twisting motions, he pushed the plug to her puckered opening and then pressed in.
She moaned as he began to push inward, the tight ring of muscle stretching, until the plug was in to the hilt.
She gasped. “Full. So damn full.”
He gave her a grin and pushed the button on the vibrator.
Jazzy jolted underneath him, her eyes going wide, a scream erupting from her red, puffy lips.
His hands went to her knees again, pulling them wide. He liked seeing her holes stuffed with cock, even if it was by artificial toys.
He grabbed his dick and slapped it against her cherry lips. “Open up.”
Her big hazel eyes looked at him, full of trust, as she opened her mouth and teased his cock head. Did she have any idea of the way she looked at him? How open, caring, confident in knowing that he would take care of her.
She gave his slit another lick. “Fuck my mouth. Please.”
He tightened the grip on her head as he started to ram his cock down her throat. One hand feeding her his dick; the other, pinching and pulling a nipple. She was so fucking beautiful like this, with all her holes stuffed. It was the closest she was ever going to get to fucking multiple men.
Right when he was about to erupt in her mouth, he pulled out.
“No…” Saliva dripped out of her mouth, together with her protest. He saw it trickle down to her chest, leaving a shiny spot on the latex.
He dropped back onto her body and took her mouth. Their tongues fought a battle of wills, leaving them both breathless for a moment.
Her arms that were still holding the headboard were trembling, making her breasts shake. He got even harder just by looking at her breasts and bared pussy, while the rest of her body was hidden in tight latex that showed him her every curve. He removed the vibrator, shut it off, and tossed it away, but left the plug in.
She let out a soft moan as he grabbed her hips in a punishing grip and pushed into her pussy. He tilted her hips, so he could get deeper. He rode her for a while, enjoying her gasps and little cries. He pulled all the way back, and then rammed back in, burying himself inside her to the hilt.
She yelled, she cried, she bucked underneath him, begging him to make her come.
“Who do you belong to?” Even to his own ears, his voice sounded harsh.
Jazzy’s breasts were bouncing up and down, her mouth red and swollen, her head hitting the headboard.
“Please… Gio… please.”
“You know I love it when you beg, but answer my question. Who does your body fucking belong to? Every damn inch of it.”
He pressed in harder, making it hurt a little as his balls kept slapping her ass.
Her eyes spread wide open. “Gio…”
“From your beautiful hair to your little toes. Who do you belong to?” he roared.
Her hand landed on his cheek, but he didn’t scold her for letting go of the headboard.
“You,” she answered softly. “This body belongs to you.”
Damn straight, it did. He took her mouth as he kept fucking her, riding this mad wave they were both on.
“We’re just getting started. Hope your ass was stretched enough, ‘cause it’s time for it to take my dick.”
He flipped her onto her stomach and blanketed her body. With one hand, he pushed the latex away, and removed the plug; the other grabbed the tip of his erection and slowly pushed it into her ass.
She hissed at his invasion. He knew he was much bigger than the plug.
“Breathe out, bella.”
“It burns.”
Fuck, she was as tight as a fist. Why had he waited so long to take her ass? What a fool he had been.
Slowly, he started riding her ass, holding on to her hips so tight that he would leave marks on her rosy cheeks.
Jazzy’s face was pressed into the bedding, muffling her cries. She moaned, she bucked, she cursed, and then she started pushing her ass back to him. The room filled with the sound of their heavy breaths and flesh slapping against flesh.
All it took was one flick to her clit and she shattered beneath him, taking him with her as he poured his hot seed inside.
He collapsed on top of her, his face in the crook of her neck, heavily panting.
Madness. His addiction to her body was sheer insanity. Tonight had been the first time he’d gotten a taste of what it would feel like if another touched what he considered his.
Murder. It would make him feel like bloody murder.
CHAPTER 23
JAZZY
Today was Mike’s birthday. It had been their tradition to go all touristy in their hometown that day, starting with a breakfast at IHOP—he loved their blueberry pancakes—then cycling to the Golden Gate Bridge, and having lunch at Fisherman’s Wharf. He always bought her a treat at Chocolate Heaven. He would go for the dark chocolate breakup chunks, while she swore by Ghirardelli’s delicious milk chocolate caramel squares.
It was the first time since they were kids that Jazzy couldn’t celebrate Mike’s birthday with him. As she sat in the kitchen, she looked into the garden, her eyes staring off in the distance. She didn’t feel like eating. Or talking. Or working. She’d already sent a message to Tommie to hold the fort because she wasn’t going to make it to the office today.
Thea looked worried, but after she couldn’t get much more out of Jazzy than a few words, she left her alone.
In the distance, she could hear the doorbell, but she didn’t feel like going to check on who was there. Thea would answer the door, or someone else would. It didn’t really matter, for today was the birthday of her childhood friend, her first lover, the man she had shared her deepest, darkest secret with. The man who was no more.
The morning felt like an incredible low after the incredible high she’d had just the night before. She hadn’t ever been into fetish wear, but knowing Gio had one designed just for her, made her feel special. Really special, and she didn’t want to think of why that was. She was afraid that she could no longer deny that, somewhere over the course of the last few months, Giovanni Detta had conquered a place in her heart. Last night, he had worshiped every part of her body, including her tummy she had to admit she was somewhat self-conscious about.
“Excuse me, Jocelyn?”
She turned to Thea, who was standing in the door opening. “A package was delivered for you.”
“What’s in it?”
“I don’t know. It’s kind of big.”
The package was big and square. The delivery guy had placed it in the hallway, next to the mirror. She had a feeling what it was, and as she unwrapped it, her hands started shaking.
Her stomach dropped, and tears filled her eyes whe
n she uncovered a painting that depicted a red phoenix rising from the ashes. The bottom half of the canvas was black, making her think of darkness and despair. The beautiful bird had, however, risen from the deep dark, leaving behind a trail of fire as he launched himself toward the sun. Merely the tip of his tail still touched the dark, as if it was being pulled back somehow.
She immediately recognized the painter.
Mike…
“There was an envelope as well.”
She vaguely remembered taking the envelope from Thea and opening it.
Jazzy, if you’re reading this, I’m gone.
I thought about leaving you letters, even a diary, telling you what you mean to me. What you have meant to me every day when you were by my side, holding my hand as I went through another treatment. In the end, I decided to show it to you, because I am a man that paints, not a man of words.
By now, I’m sure you have visited the masters, as I had always wanted but was never able to. Because that’s the kind of person you are: if you make a promise, you keep it. There is nothing you wouldn’t do for the ones you love, and I am honored to leave this life knowing that I was one of those people. I wish I would have been able to do the same for you. I wish I could have slain your monster. I may not have been able to do so in this life, but never forget that I am looking over you from above. Know that as I’m writing you this letter, that I am praying that you will find a guardian angel in this life before we meet on the other side.
Love you, always,
Mike
Her tears dripped onto the letter, making some letters go blurry. It was just too much. The thing with her sister, Tommie getting shot, and now this. She couldn’t handle this. Not today. She dropped the letter and went upstairs, ignoring Thea’s calls behind her.
I wish I could have slain your monster.
Why, why did he have to remind her of him? The monster in her closet, the darkest memory of her childhood that she so desperately tried to forget?