Page 21 of His Vicious Desire

It wasn’t Mary’s fault she was my mother in almost every way except blonde with blue eyes.Mary never made my cock hard.We fucked, and that’s all it was—it was a relief, not lovemaking, barely even sex.My visits to the brothel were the only time I actually enjoyed myself during my marriage.Every time I went, Mary had a way of finding out and freaked out on me—throwing shit and screaming until she was hoarse.

Running a hand over her round stomach, I blame the magazines and the bullshit social media for daring to say this isn’t sexy as fuck.A flick of my wrist and I open the bra at the catch between her breasts, and my cock jumps as it begins leaking all over again.Fuck.I find my pants are a mess from how badly my cock was leaking while I tasted her.I’m up off the bed and undressing in a rush to get back to her.

Cupping a round breast, I run my thumb over the delicate, dusky brown nipple.A knife twists my gut at the lack of reaction.Closing my eyes, I trail my hand up her chest to her neck, stopping at her mouth.A mouth I’ve been dreaming of for months.Lips that have pursed and smiled at me a dozen times in real life and even more in my dreams.These lips match the skin of her nipples.

It doesn’t matter that I know what will happen—or won’t happen.I can’t stop myself from pressing my lips to hers.This is the only thing I will have from those dreams.I won’t ever taste her while she is cognizant, all I get in this life is right now, and it will have to last a lifetime.

The moment I dreamed of is empty, like eating without getting full.Tasting her mouth between lips I have to part, I close my eyes and pretend she’s kissing me back.She tastes of sunlight, bright and burning me.I pull away to look down at her.This girl will be the end of me.I feel it deep down in my bones.I can only hope it’s after she’s grown into the woman she promises to be: bright and bold as the sun just like the way she tastes.She will burn me alive as I’ve never known the sun—the darkness is where I was born and have lived.And it’s why this is all I’m allowed.

Men like me don’t get the girl in the end.Too many sins have turned our hands and souls black.Our touch is never welcomed by women when they know what we’ve done.It would be easier if they never asked questions to answers they don’t really want the truth to.But they always ask, and they can never hide their disdain and horror.So, before Bianca, I would have been lucky to wind up with a woman from the brothel when she’s decided she’s tired of doing what she’s doing and will settle for me because I’ve gone to her.

A bitter chuckle escapes—I sentenced myself to end up alone because no one else could compete with Bianca Leonetti.And I’m content with that.I never thought I would have this moment.So I will take it and hold it until my dying day.

I’m going to wring everything I can from now.I find my phone again, and like a bastard, I do what I wanted to the moment I saw her sweet pussy.Gripping my cock, I slide it along the slit of her lips and take a picture.It’s profane, but still, I take another picture as I edge the head of my cock between those lips.It’s only an inch, not even two.Yet, my eyes close as I fight not to shoot my load inside her.

My cock is screaming to finish in her.I have no idea what it is deep inside me that’s desperate to see it, to know I filled her pussy with my come.Something is gnawing at me,beggingfor it.

No.I come inside her, and asleep or not, she could wind up pregnant, and if that happens, we’re both dead.But my cock won’t stop, it needs relief.I pull out of her and stroke, once, twice, and come all over her gorgeous tits.

Yeah, I’m going to hell where I deserve to be.Because there is not an ounce of shame as I study her body—only satisfaction so deep it has me taking another picture.

Gaetano

I’m climbing the walls because Bianca has now been asleep for almost twenty hours.

Any minute she would wake up, turned into why the fuck hasn’t she woken up?I have checked her breathing more than a dozen times, starting around noon today.An hour ago, I broke down and called a connection to confirm as long as she’s breathing fine—no shallow or ragged breathing—leave her alone.

He called me an asshole for dosing someone that high if they’ve never done anything but reminded me that despite the warnings, THC is far from lethal, no matter how much someone takes.The only way it’s lethal is if the person taking it freaks out and does something dangerous.At the same time, anything that’s going to slow breathing could be dangerous, even if it was rare.

At first, I was grateful for her sleeping so late.I got to sleep the night with her, something I never dreamed would be possible…and fucking hell, it was better than any sexual experience in my entire life.Since I told Sandro I was sick, and on an emergency basis only until the flu I was dealing with allowed me to leave my place, I hadn’t set my alarm.

Sleep didn’t happen until too damn late.All I wanted to do was savor every moment Bianca was here in my home and in my bed.I’ve gone days without sleep, and if it meant I had more time with her—I fought sleep until it yanked me into its depths.

I expected to be up again around six or eight in the morning.Bianca’s internal clock always had her getting around eight to ten hours.Since she was out a little after seven last night, my calculations put her awake around that time.

So when I woke up and saw it was almost eleven o’clock, I was stunned at getting eight hours.Most days, I get four, maybe five hours of sleep.I’m also a restless sleeper, waking up with the sheets wrapped around me.Yet when I woke up this morning, I hadn’t moved from falling asleep on my side with Bianca wrapped around me.

Now, all I want to do is use every curse word I know for not taking my time to enjoy her when I woke up.I rolled out of bed the minute I could make myself, and then worked fast to put everything right and make it appear as though she slept alone in my bed.

The television is on, and I have my e-reader in my hand, but I can’t focus on anything.Then suddenly, Bianca is in front of me, her brown eyes flashing fire.

“You bastard.I hate your fucking guts, and I’m never going to forgive you for what you did to me.”She hisses at me.

Sonofabitch.Did she remember what I said…or fucking hell did she somehow know all the dirty shit I did while she slept?

ChapterSeven

Bianca

One moment, everything is soft, black, and peaceful.The next moment, I blink, and the harsh light of day has me desperately craving a way back to the peace.I close my eyes, attempting to find it again.From far away, I can hear the music for the opening credits of a popular sitcom and want to scream because the peace is slipping further and further away.

No, please come back.

My lungs are burning, demanding air.Shit.There’s no fighting it anymore, I’m awake.I blink and wonder for two seconds where the fuck I am.Then I inhale, and the scent of Gaetano fills my lungs.

Gaetano?My eyes pop open, and I search the room for him.It’s a huge room that’s basically empty.There is only the massive bed I’m on, two black bedside tables with boring, black metal lamps with plain white canvas shades, and an enormous flat-screen television.The walls are stark white without any pictures or artwork.I’ve seen hotel rooms with more warmth than this room.

Wait, I flick my eyes back to the bedside table.The black alarm clock’s digital display has me frozen in shock.It’s three o’clock?It’s sunny from where the heavy black curtain didn’t close all the way.What?No, it’s the afternoon.I remember vaguely that it was around six when I got here.Oh my god, I almost slept for a full day.

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