Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 39068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
But the truth is, if she’d been frightened, or angry, or resistant, if her pussy had been dry or her body tense, I wouldn’t have gone on.
No, my feisty bride enjoyed my touch and my tongue. She was incredibly responsive, and watching her come was the most spectacular sight I’ve seen. It was beautiful.
“Talking about your pussy at dinner is as much my right as tasting it,” I declare. “And,” –I pause to take a sip of my wine– “I can’t wait to taste you again.”
She lifts her lashes to meet my gaze. “As punishment.” She doesn’t say it as a question, but she’s watching me like she’s trying to discern how and when it will happen again.
I shrug. “It can be a reward, too. Depends on the context, I suppose.”
I watch a pretty flush color the exposed triangle of skin above her breasts.
“Would you like me to describe what a reward might be like?”
She licks her lips, and the sight of her tongue gets me harder than steel.
“Hmm?” I prompt when she doesn’t reply.
She takes two healthy sips of her wine. “Sure.” I love how she tries to make it sound casual, but the word wobbles on the end.
“When you’re good, my sweet wife, I will reward you. I’ll take you to our bedroom and light a few candles. Pour you a glass of champagne. Then I’ll undress you slowly, my fingertips trailing across your soft skin.”
Goosebumps rise on her arms. One of my men serves two plates loaded with T-bone steak, twice-baked potatoes, and asparagus. I pause until he’s gone.
“I’ll pick you up and lie you on the bed. Maybe trail a rose across your bare skin to prime you for my touch.”
Dahlia had been applying herself to cutting her steak, but she goes still now, raising her gaze to mine. Then she seems to shake herself out of reverie and conjures a sniff. “A rose?”
“If I can’t find a dahlia,” I amend with a smirk.
I see the twitch of a smile on her lips before she hides it with a bite of steak.
“And then, I’ll push your knees wide and bury my head between your thighs. You’ll have use of your hands this time, so you can use them to pull my hair or tug me forward.”
Dahlia swallows her steak with an audible gulp.
“Of course, I’ll let you come. I won’t make you wait. I’ll bring you to orgasm as many times as you like.”
Dahlia’s back straightens as if she’s just squeezed her thighs together under the table. “So, Antonio, I get that you wanted revenge on me and my father, but isn’t it far more of a hassle to keep me?”
I don’t allow her to change the topic. “Shall I tell you what will happen if I have to punish you again?”
“No.” The syllable is mulish.
“Next time I will focus my attention on your ass.”
Dahlia stops chewing.
“The next time I spank you will be over my knee. A more intimate experience for both of us.”
“Stop talking,” Dahlia snaps, the color high on her cheeks.
“I will turn your ass pink before I give that tight little rosebud between your cheeks my full attention.”
“Antonio.” Shock laces the syllables.
I give her a wicked smile. “Don’t worry, darling. It can be just as satisfying as having me between your legs. Over time, you will come to beg me to fuck you there, as well.”
Dahlia’s fork hand shakes on the way to her mouth. “Let me go, Antonio. Please.”
I shake my head. “Never.”
She gets up from the dinner table, throwing her napkin down over her plate.
I stand when she does, like a gentleman. I studied and practiced refined etiquette from the moment I got out of prison. Not because Benedict King called me a brute. Not to prove him wrong. Because he was right–I am a brute. A complete monster.
No, it was a necessary adoption to enact my revenge plan. To get myself in the right doors. It’s been a very long con to lure Benedict King into investments then arranging the default of those investments. Ultimately offering him the loan on the behalf of Don Beretta.
She leaves the table, and I let her go.
My satisfaction at goading her doesn’t taste as juicy as I’d hoped. Nor does eating the rest of my dinner alone.
Dahlia
Ugh. That man. I'm trembling when I get back to the room, angry and hot and just as needy as I was this afternoon before Antonio got me off.
I seriously want to kill that man. I should have taken one of those steak knives at the table and dug out his heart with it.
Except then he wouldn't be alive to use that glorious tongue between my legs. He wouldn't be able to smirk at me and make me feel beautiful and coveted and dirty all at the same time.