I can hear people walking up and down the corridor just outside. Oh my God, is someone waiting to use this bathroom?
This is wrong.
My heart is hammering as I watch him, waiting for his next move.
He grabs the back of my neck and pushes my head down, presenting my ass just for him.
I hear his suit pants zipper go down and then I feel the tip of his cock nudge my opening as he pulls my panties to the side.
I feel a sharp snap and then I see my torn panties fall to the floor.
Oh hell.
Guess they were in his way.
He puts his two hands on my shoulders for leverage and without warning, slides deeply into my body. He lets out a deep guttural moan.
“Fuck yeah,” he hisses.
My mouth falls open at his ownership…oh…the stretch. No matter how many times we have sex, I’ll never get used to his size. Not that I’m complaining.
Then he’s riding me hard, so hard. His hands on my shoulders slamming my body back onto his with such force I can hardly catch my breath.
His soft moans are driving me wild and the handle on the door sounds as someone tries to come in.
He keeps pumping me, no fucks to give about anyone else.
The sound of our skin slapping hard echoes around us off the tiles, magnifying everything. But there’s no stopping him, he’s focused on feeding his body what it needs.
“Torna dopo,” (Translation: Come back later.) he growls without missing a beat, he lifts one of my legs and I shudder hard.
He gives a satisfied smile and tips his head back. “Questa fica e cosi deliziosa cazzo,” (Translation: This pussy is so fucking good.) he growls. “Wet and tight, just how I fucking want it.”
Hearing his filthy words send me spiraling hard and I grip the sink to hold myself up and he slaps me hard on the behind as he rides me. “Fuck me,” he whispers. “Harder.” He really lets me have it.
The door handle sounds again.
“Fuck off!” he yells.
Oh, Christ on a cracker…this is so messed up.
This is not what nice girls do…especially with their life partners.
He slams in and holds himself deep, his body jerks aggressively deep inside mine and I see stars and whimper as I come.
My legs are jelly. My lungs have no air. I’m grappling for control of my body functions.
Hell….
He pulls out and zips up his pants. “Hurry up and get back to the table.” He leaves without another word and I pant as I stare at the door he just disappeared through.
Oh my God, what the fuck was that?
I quickly flick the lock and stare at my disheveled reflection. I’m flushed, gasping for air, my hair is all over the place, I have bite marks on my neck.
But it’s the glow that I can see. An all-consuming, well-fucked glow, I smile at my reflection.
Just fucked looks good on me.
I clean myself up and get myself together and straighten my dress as I try to calm myself down and then I open the door and walk back to the table casually.
I sit down and a trace of a smile crosses Giuliano’s face.
Dirty bastard.
“What took you so long?” Anna scoffs.
“Oh.” I look around guiltily. “There was a long line.”
Anna looks through the menu. “Who’s having dessert?” she asks.
I pretend to read the menu. “I’m full,” I reply, still completely disheveled.
“You got that right,” Giuliano murmurs under his breath.
Full of come.
I smirk into my menu, that’s my fiancé.
The pussy punisher.
Giuliano
“Can I get you anything else to drink?” the waitress asks.
“Yes.” Lorenzo swallows his food. “We’ll have two more Blue Label scotches, please.”
“Yes, sir.” She disappears out the back and we both continue to eat in silence.
Lorenzo and I have snuck away from the office for lunch, it’s rare that we are alone where we can talk privately.
“You still fighting with Bianca?” I ask.
He pushes his pasta around on his plate with his fork. “I don’t know. She’s saying one thing; all evidence points to another.”
“And it’s bothering you?”
“How could it not?”
I chew my food as I stare at him, it’s obvious he’s upset. “You know, it was twenty-eight years ago…maybe you should just let it go.”
“I know. I keep telling myself to drop it.”
I nod as I look across the crowded restaurant.
“How are you and Francesca going?”
“She’s incredible.” I beam proudly, to think that she’s going to be my wife. I can’t wait until we can tell people. I’m going to shout it from the fucking rooftops.
My dream girl, Francesca Ferrara, is going to marry me.
Un fucking believable.
A broad smile crosses his face as he watches me. “That she is.”
“Giuliano.” A deep voice sounds from behind me, we both turn to see Lombardi standing over us.
The sound of our cutlery hitting the plates echoes around us as we both reach inside our suit jackets for our guns.
“Relax.” He holds his hands up. “I come in peace.” He sits down at the table.
“What do you want?” I snap.
“We need to talk.”
I glare at him. “Where’s my yacht?”
His eyes flick to Lorenzo. “I need to speak to Giuliano alone.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Lorenzo growls.
Lombardi smiles, clearly amused. “Then you won’t hear what I have to say.” He goes to stand and I hold my hand up, I want to hear what he has to say. “Leave us,” I say to Lorenzo.
“I don’t….”
“Now.” I cut him off.
Lorenzo stands and walks over to the wall, his eyes not leaving us for a second, his hand on his gun inside his jacket.