Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 59551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 298(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 298(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Gio grins and pulls my hips tight against his. “Twenty-four hours with the girl of my dreams. Sounds like a perfect birthday.”
“You mean nightmares,” I say to take away the flutters in my belly, the panic over what I’m getting myself into.
His smile is sad. No—haunted. “Same thing.”
Chapter 9
Gio
Marissa stares down at me from her perch on Michelangelo's bar. She’s in her jeans and a blouse I bought her after she complained about not having clean clothes to wear. She still has that “just-fucked” look—flushed cheeks, glassy eyes, and a beautifully dazed expression, even though it’s been a few hours. And that makes me want to fuck her all over again.
Cristo, I haven’t had this much sex since I was in my twenties. Which I guess makes sense, since I’m with a twenty-something-year-old.
Last night I carried her to my bed and feasted on her pussy until she wept from the exhaustion of five orgasms. This morning she gave me a birthday blowjob, followed by breakfast in bed.
Then I took her to the piano store and let her pick out the baby grand for the restaurant. She picked a gleaming white beauty which I paid double for to get them to drop everything and deliver it today. So after I took her to lunch at one of the most expensive restaurants in Chicago, we went to Michelangelo's to meet the piano movers.
Now it’s installed in the corner, and I played her my best rendition of The Scientist by Coldplay, and I broke into the wine. I push her knees wide and bite the seam of her jeans between her legs. “I want this pussy again.”
She looks down at me.
I never would’ve guessed Marissa would be this freaky, but she gives me this wide smile and says, “You’re the boss.”
Jesus fucking Christ. She makes my dick hard on a moment-to-moment basis.
“All that resistance, angel, and then you suddenly surrender. Explain it to me.”
She tenses and I regret bringing it up.
I massage her inner thighs with my thumbs to loosen her back up. “ Never mind," I say. "I don't fucking care. I like you willing." I grip her waist and tug her down to her feet. With a flick, I unbutton her jeans and shove my hand down the front. She's sopping wet. Like a dripping peach, only slick and soft. I spin her around so her ass comes to my front to get a better angle, and I find her clit with my finger. She squirms, dropping her head back on my shoulder. I curl a finger inside her, grinding the heel of my hand over her clit while I dip a second finger in.
Marissa covers my hand with hers and urges me deeper. I walk her forward, my fingers still inside her. Her thighs bump into a four-top and she folds over it, catching herself with her hands. I shove her jeans down and slap her ass.
"Do you have any idea how hot this is, angel?" I ask as I spread her ass cheeks to take in the full sight of her. "Ah, what am I saying? Every time with you is hot." I rub over her wet folds again, then release my cock. I can’t get the condom on fast enough.
Now I know why men find a younger woman after their midlife crisis. I’ve never felt so alive as I have these last eighteen hours. It’s fucking invigorating. But no, it’s not because Marissa’s younger. It’s that she’s Marissa. She could be the older one, and I’d still find her fuck-all hot. I’d still want to bang her five times a day.
I ease into her welcoming pussy, and she moans. “You bending over and taking it from your boss, pretty girl? Eh bella?” I can’t stop the filth from pouring from my mouth. Fortunately, Marissa doesn’t seem to find it degrading. She moans, reaching back and pulls her ass cheeks apart for me. I bump her ass with my loins, grinding against her anus so she gets that added titillation. I go slow, watching the root of my cock disappear into her welcoming entrance and come out glistening.
I haven’t even come yet, and I’m already grateful. When she starts murmuring my name in that hoarse, urgent way, my control snaps, and I have to give it to her hard. I grip her hips and slam in and out, shaking the table with the force.
The angle’s good, but I want to be deeper in her. And I want to see her face. Last night has me addicted to watching her come. I pull out and lift her bare ass onto the tablecloth, then climb on top, one foot braced on a chair, one knee on the table.
Marissa’s giggle turns to a sex cry as I plow into her, using my foot on the chair for better leverage. It’s a brutal, dominating fuck, but she doesn’t complain, not even when I get fast and rough.