Page 75 of The Crowned Garza
“Ragazzaccia,” he growls out. “I knew you couldn’t be good.”
To show him how bad of a girl I am, I reach below and cup his balls, massaging gently, then deep throat him as far as I can.
Abs flexing tautly, his eyes droop, jaw slack. And we both know it’s over.
With a curse, his body jerks and he withdraws from my mouth despite my efforts to keep him there. He shoots his pleasure all over my breasts. Nostrils flared, chest rising and falling.
Saint at the height of pleasure is a sight to behold.Breathtaking.
Licking my lips, I gaze up at him under my lashes. “I’m guessing I won’t be getting that reward, huh?”
“Not the reward you want, no.”
With that, he pulls me up by my forearms then rips down my shorts and panties, going down with them until he’s on his knees in front of me. Cupping my ass, he angles my pussy to his face and eats me out until I’m gripping his hair, riding his mouth, and finally, coming all over his face.
If this is the only reward I’ll get, I’m fine with that.
~
AFTER SHOWERING TOGETHER, I declare that I’ll be spending the day here and force him to watch TV with me.
That’s how we spend the next couple of hours. Relaxed on his couch, watching game shows. He wanted to watch murder mysteries, but I overrode him because I’ll never understand people who sit down and binge-watch trauma for entertainment. No wonder everyone’s walking around depressed and anxious and paranoid and heavily reliant on medication.
As I knew it would, watching game shows keeps him in the moment, engaged, keeps him smiling and talking to me. His mood becomes noticeably lighter, more relaxed and open.
Indy goes back and forth, between snuggling on Saint’s lap and taking naps in her room.
After about the fifth time of her leaping off his lap and padding to her room, I ask, “Has she really never been like this before?”
“Never.”
“Can cats be manipulative psychopaths?”
He slides me a half-smile and pinches my chin. “What do you want for dinner?”
I lift a brow at him. “Do you really want me to say it?”
Another long-suffering sigh is his response, as if I’m the one being unreasonable here.
I press my face to the side of his neck and inhale him. “You need to be mine.” I nip at his skin. “I wish you were.”
Giving me his full attention, he cups my face with one hand and kisses me. For prolonged minutes, we make out like horny teenagers. But all my attempts to move past first base keep getting thwarted.
Eventually, I grow frustrated and push him away. “This is ridiculous. Do you think fucking my mouth instead of fucking me will make much of a difference to my brothers?”
To accommodate his rock-hard erection, he adjusts his pants. “What do your brothers have to do withmio cazzo?”
Cazzo...cazzo... Oh, cock. “Exactly.”
“You think that’s why—” He stops short and chuckles humorlessly. “That line has already been crossed,piccola regina. If I die, I die.”
“Thenwhyaren’t you fucking me into next Sunday?”
“Because that is reserved for my future wife.”
Confused, I blink at him. “What do you mean?”
“Only my wife will experience my cock inside her.”
