Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 62590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
I suspect my dad may take issue with this arrangement, but I can’t muster any complaint. I want to be owned by Carlo.
“Capisce?”
“Capito.” My nonna is Italian, so I understand the language but don’t speak it fluently. Still, many words and phrases have infiltrated my speech.
He looks surprised, as if not expecting me to agree. “Yeah?”
I thrust my hips again. “Yes, sir.”
His cock jerks against me.
“I will take good care of you,” he promises.
He looks so sincere that my belly does a full somersault. Or maybe my entire body does because I get light-headed. Once again, this is so close to my fantasies, it hurts.
Carlo’s a player. A full-blooded Italian man who’s left a wake of satisfied women behind him. I can’t take any promises from him seriously. Not to mention the fact that I doubt my parents would approve. But using him to regain my confidence while on the rebound isn’t criminal. If what already transpires between us is any indication, sex with him will be out of this world. So I’ll have my rebound fling and heal my wounds. No harm done. As long as I keep my heart locked up tight.
He lowers his head and kisses me again. This time, his lips are soft. Not quite so demanding. Almost tender.
My heart squeezes as if he tied a string around the middle and pulled too tight.
“So those are my conditions, principessa. Do you accept?”
I wriggle under him, still trying to tempt him into more. “I already said I did.”
“I want to be sure you understand. I’ll be keeping my thumb on you. You won’t be going back to that job.”
I roll my eyes. “I already agreed to that, Carlo.”
“You won’t leave this apartment without my permission except to go to classes.”
My body heats at the idea of being his prisoner. “How do I earn my freedom?”
His feral grin turns wicked. “You’ll have to be a very, very good girl.”
My nipples and clit throb in time together. This is dangerous. More dangerous than my hare-brained idea to take off my clothes at a strip club. But the temptation outweighs the risk. I need this. My body needs this. I’ve gone too long feeling ugly and completely unappealing.
“I’ll be good,” I whisper.
He pulls off the shirt I unbuttoned and shucks the white t-shirt underneath it. His chest ripples with beautiful muscles, making me weak with desire. “Roll over and give me that ass.” He backs off the bed and removes his pants.
More flutters in my belly. What does he mean by that? Is he going to spank me again? Or take me anally? Jesus, I’ve never done that before. Despite my qualms, I roll over.
I hear the sounds of him removing his pants, and then the mattress dips as he rejoins me on the bed. My ass and back twitch as I wait for his next move.
The crinkle of foil reaches my ears as Carlo opens a condom. “Put your wrists above your head.”
I obey, and he pinions them in one large hand. Lying on my tummy with my hands captured, I am completely at his mercy. There’d be no way to control our lovemaking, save lifting my ass for him, which I do.
“God, Summer. You’re fucking beautiful.” He brushes my long hair to one side and lays kisses along my bare shoulder. The flick of his tongue teases me, his warm breath sends shivers of excitement through me.
Heat flushes every part of my body, and that’s before the head of his cock nudges at my entrance. My pussy’s entrance, thank God. He doesn’t want my ass.
My juices are so slick that he slides right in. I groan at the sensation of being filled by him, the bump of the head of his cock on my inner wall. My body opens to him, more wet and ready than I’ve ever been.
He lowers over me, separates my wrists, and interlaces his fingers over mine. The intimate gesture turbo-boosts my heart rate. His breath comes hot on my neck and he bites down. The sensation shoots me over the edge. My pussy clamps down on his cock and my back arches. I squeeze his fingers tight as my inner walls contract with wave after wave of pleasure.
“Responsive little thing, aren’t you?” Carlo sounds amused. He hasn’t come yet, I realize with a stab of guilt. The score is Me: two orgasms; Carlo: zero. He pulls out and rolls me onto my back. His large palm flattens between my breasts and drags down to my tummy.
I suck my belly in, not liking anyone to touch me there.
He stops and frowns. “Are you really pulling in your belly?”
I stare back at him.
“Do you think it’s too big?”
Flushing and hating the direction of the conversation, I look away.
He grips my waist with both hands and drops his head, laying four light kisses across the taut skin. “You have a warped perception of your body, sweetheart. You’re too skinny as it is. I’m going to have to turn Italian grandmother on you and fatten you up.”