Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91489 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91489 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Her eyes widen as understanding dawns, pupils dilating with a mixture of shock and arousal. For a moment, I think she might refuse—might finally find the line she won’t cross—but then she lowers herself onto me with excruciating slowness.
The heat of her envelops me, tight and slick, and I have to lock every muscle in my body to maintain my composure. Her breath catches, a small sound that only I can hear.
“Such a good girl,” I whisper, the words sliding between us like a secret. “Now don’t make a sound.”
She bites her lip, nodding almost imperceptibly. To anyone watching, she is just sitting in my lap, perhaps grinding against me, but nothing more. The oversized T-shirt covers everything, creating the perfect illusion of propriety in this sea of naked flesh.
I keep one hand on her hip, guiding her into a slow, barely perceptible rhythm. The other slides up to tangle in her hair, pulling her forward until her face is nestled against my neck. The position looks intimate, affectionate even, masking the reality of what’s happening between us.
Her lips press against my throat, not quite a kiss but close enough. I feel her breath, hot and uneven, against my skin. The tremor in her thighs as she fights to maintain control.
“That’s it,” I encourage, my voice neutral, conversational. “Just like that.”
The pressure builds with each subtle movement, her body tightening around mine. I know she’s close—can feel it in the way she clenches around me, in the slight acceleration of her breathing.
I glance across the pool, scanning the crowd with practiced nonchalance. Most of the guests have lost interest in us, distracted by more explicit entertainment elsewhere.
But not Rico.
No, Rico stands alone, leaning against the bar, watching us with those cold, calculating eyes. Oblivious to everyone around him but us. One hand holds a tumbler of amber liquid. The other is moving rhythmically inside his pants.
The sight of him jerking off to this—to her—sends a surge of something dark and possessive through me. I tighten my grip on her hair, turning her face away from his line of sight.
“He’s watching us,” I tell her, my voice a low growl against her ear. “Jerking off to the sight of you taking my cock.”
She shudders against me, her internal muscles clenching in response to my words.
“Should I let him see your face when you come?” I ask, the question cruel and deliberate. “Should I show him what belongs to me?”
“No,” she whispers, the word barely audible. “Please.”
The plea in her voice pushes me closer to the edge. I bite down on her shoulder through the thin cotton of the shirt, hard enough to leave a mark. The pain draws a gasp from her, her body tensing around mine.
“Then come for me now,” I command, my voice steady despite the fire building in my blood. “Quietly.”
She obeys beautifully, her climax rippling through her in silent waves. Her fingers dig into my shoulders, her face pressed against my neck to muffle any sounds she might make. The feeling of her pulsing around me, combined with the knowledge that Rico is watching, unable to hear or truly see what’s happening, pushes me over the edge.
I come with my eyes locked on Rico’s, a direct challenge in my gaze. Mine. Not yours. Never yours.
When it’s over, I keep her on my lap, both of us still joined, our breathing gradually slowing. I run my fingers through her hair, the gesture almost tender if not for the calculating coldness in my eyes as I continue to stare down Rico across the expanse of the pool.
He raises his glass in a mocking toast.
20
I’m still in Giovanni Bavga’s lap with his come still inside me when my brain comes back online.
I was semi-coherent during the sex. Or should I call it the “claiming”? Because that’s what Giovanni was doing just now, marking his territory like some primal alpha male. He wasn’t even fully focused on me—his attention was locked on his cousin across the pool. I only caught it by accident when pleasure crashed through me and I turned my head, my body still pulsing around him.
Rico. Standing there in the shadows by the cabana, jerking himself off with slow, deliberate strokes. His dark eyes burning with something that made my skin crawl—not just lust, but something deeper, more twisted. He was staring directly at us, at me, at the place where Giovanni and I were joined.
And when I twisted back to look at Giovanni, the realization hit me like ice water. They weren’t looking at me at all. They were staring at each other across that expanse of glowing blue water—locked in some silent battle I couldn’t begin to understand.
Two predators, using my body as the battlefield for whatever sick game they’d been playing since childhood. The tension between them was electric, dangerous, loaded with decades of hatred and rivalry that suddenly made me feel like nothing more than a pawn.