Page 62 of Hostile Secret
“Look who’s jealous of a schoolboy.” I goad, lightly thumping his chest. “I came in here to relax, so please fuck off.”
He slowly unclamps his fingers and runs his jade eyes all over my sudsy nakedness. “Turn around. Show me how good your bare ass looks.” His voice is thick, the texture coarse like diamonds pulverized to darkness.
Goosebumps break out over my body, making me shiver, and he sees it, the reaction prompting his hands to grope my slippery breasts. I whimper, clenching my thighs.
“Be a good little whore and turn around for me.”
I can’t help it. The way he stares expectantly at me, combined with his sexy accent, has my core in knots. I’m turned on and hungry for him.
I’m sure he can hear my heart slamming against my ribs when I rotate.
“Bend over.” A powerful hand settles on my spine, pressing my torso downward. My fingers curl around the opposite edge of the tub. Once he deems my exposed position satisfactory, his hands move to my buttocks. Taking his time, he kneads the flesh, his possessive touch gliding over the curve of each one, eventually spreading them wide.
“Gio,” I whisper his name in a tattered breath, my legs trembling.
“One of these days you’ll beg me to fuck this pretty ass, won’t you?”
Suddenly his hot breath is there, and his tongue is dragging upwards from my pussy all the way to the puckered hole where he pauses for a second, before harshly gripping my buttocks.
“Because that’s what you really want—to be my personal little whore who givesmeeverything.” He slaps my ass cheek. The jolt of it hitting my skin has me gasping for air.
But his torture doesn’t end there. Two fingers slip inside my pussy and his thumb simultaneously pushes past the tight muscle of my ass.
He holds me there like a bowling ball and hums out his approval of my pathetic groan. My nipples shouldn’t be hard and the arousal leaking out of me shouldn’t trickle over his fingers. But I’m alive because of it—because of him. And the hollowness I’ve suffered for weeks doesn’t feel as empty anymore.
While his fingers work, my scalp tingles and I grip the ledge tighter for support. “Giovanni—” I’m wound tight, rising higher and higher, my body primed for a release.
Suddenly, he stops and pulls away. I straighten to my full height and carefully angle around to face him, my legs ready to buckle and my entire body vibrating.
My mind is trying to understand what the hell just happened and why I’m panting, desperately needing him to finish me off. Rather, he grabs my chin.
“Jealousy is a weakness I’ve never known and will never suffer from. I’m wealthy, powerful, and feared by everyone. A sweet little whore like you simply gives me what I need when I need it. I don’t share. That’s all.”
Letting go of my jaw, he gently strokes my soaked hair back from my face. Our gazes snag for a heartbeat. Although short in time, the connection is far from distant. His otherworldly eyes speak to me of something far more dangerous, of a truth greater than his lie.
He is jealous.
“Get dressed and meet me downstairs in fifteen minutes.”
18
GIOVANNI
I’m sitting in the armored Tesla, cursing the painful ache in my dick when India opens the passenger door and quietly gets in beside me.
Her rough-dried golden hair has been scraped into a messy bun and she’s wearing that damn peppermint scented lip gloss again. I can smell it.
The way it glosses her lips has my fists clenching and my heart thumping. That mouth belongs on my dick, but this temptation is screwing with my head. I need to chill out and remember, she’s not a permanent fixture around here.
Thank fuck.
“Ready?” I ask as she fixes the hem of her short skirt and drops a shoulder bag into the footwell.
I stare at her flawless complexion and inky black lashes coated in mascara, swallowing down my urges when she looks right at me. She’s perfect.
“Are we actually going to the shooting range, or will you pull up outside of it and then drive off before I get out?” She pouts.
I didn’t allow her to come earlier, because she had the audacity to infer I was jealous of a high school kid. What an empty claim, an insult, really. I don’t get jealous—end of story.
