Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
The tinkling sound of breaking glass filled the air.
I twisted the sole of my foot, making a show of crushing it even more thoroughly.
This was not my tradition. There was no certainty in how many years a marriage was due. But I respected the gesture.
People needed hope. Without it, we were nothing.
Ettore’s fingers tightened around my own. We stood wordlessly, but I felt so much being said, especially when my husband gently lifted his large foot and stepped onto the already cracked glass before us, creating even more fragments.
I bit my lip to hide my smile.
A moment passed, then another, and I don’t know who started the applause, but I did know one thing.
Fate be damned, we created our own destiny.
My gaze firmly attached to that of the man beside me, my heart raced. I felt it coming long before he moved. Oh God. I needed it. I craved it. I was desperate for another taste of him. And when he lowered his face, I propped myself up on my tiptoes, meeting him halfway. He grunted into my mouth, breathing me in. I sighed into his, breathing him out. I cupped his rough cheek and sucked at his bottom lip. The hand at the small of my back lowered some more and then I was throbbing in places I should not have been throbbing in public.
What was it about this man that made me want him so?
Some said tension made for electric foreplay.
We kissed until we were both out of breath, until we were both dazed and confused. Until foreplay wasn’t enough.
Ettore’s voice grated when he ordered, “We’re leaving.”
I nodded, dreamily.
Gripping my hand tightly, Ettore all but dragged me through the back exit, out to the waiting limo, opened the door and pushed me in. I stumbled, crawling on shaking legs to make room for him.
Ettore entered, closed the door behind him and, immediately, the car began to move. He sat back with his legs wide, lifting a hand to run his fingers through his hair before lowering his heated gaze to me, tugging at his tie. He threw it off and his disturbed growl of, “Privacy,” should have frightened me, but the way my pussy clenched said otherwise. When the partition between us rose, he narrowed his eyes and jerked his chin, and immediately, I crawled between his open legs. I didn’t wait for instruction. I knew what I wanted and I went for it. My clumsy fingers scrambled with his belt while he worked on the buttons of his shirt.
Earlier, I hadn’t really had time to look at him, but the moment he shrugged his shirt open, my fingers stopped working. Staring openly as the sun kissed torso, all I wanted to do right then was run my fingers down every dip and plane of the muscular wall of his chest. Unlike the few boys I had messed around with, there was a light smatter of hair over his pecs that centered down past his belly button, trailing even lower to somewhere much more exciting.
Lord.
No doubt about it.
This was the body of a man.
It was only when my eyes glanced over the reddened bandage at his shoulder, did I feel a short-lived pang of guilt.
Ettore wasn’t having my sudden change of mood. Impatient, he lightly smacked my hands away and reached for his belt, undoing it quickly. Deft fingers lowered his zipper. He separated the flaps of his black dress pants, reached inside, and pulled it out. His thick, angry looking cock sprang free and my lips parted.
My mouth watered at the sight of it. As if he could read my mind, he stroked the crown of my head, taking my hair between his fingers and pulling lightly, causing a yelp to escape me.
Holding a handful of my hair, he pulled hard enough to make my neck crane, exposing my throat and then, he brought his forehead to mine. “You said you were sorry. Did you mean it?”
My expression crumbled. “Yes. I’m sorry.” I was sure I sounded desperate. “I’m so sorry.”
His face darkened. His lip curled. And then, he pressed his parted lips to the apple of my cheek and spoke against it. “Prove it.”
With a stiff yank, I buckled forward over his throbbing cock. I lowered my face until the head of his dick touched my lips. I widened my mouth, sliding it over and sucked.
I found it strange. His skin was hot, but smooth. He tasted clean, but mildly salty.
A small sound of feminine satisfaction escaped me as I quickly became an addict for him, nuzzling into his crotch like a sex-starved nympho.
He hissed in a breath as I began to bob my head, taking in as much of him as I could. His brows lowered and his lips pursed as he watched closely while I desperately sucked his cock in the back of a limo on our disastrous wedding night. On my knees, with my small hand wrapped around the thick length of him, jerking lightly as I tried to take all of it, but gagged until threads of saliva coated his straining, rock-hard dick.