Chapter 7

Maty

The jazz club is dimly lit, the air thick with the smell of smoke and expensive liquor. On the small stage in the corner, a singer croons into an old-fashioned microphone, her voice low and husky.

I shift on the plush velvet bench, hyperaware of Alessio’s presence next to me. He’s close enough that I can feel the heat of his thigh pressing against mine, sending sparks across my skin. Tell me again why I thought another “fake date” was a good idea?

“Another drink?” he asks, his warm breath ghosting over the side of my face.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. He signals a waiter, and moments later, a fresh glass of fruity cocktail is placed in front of me.

I take a sip, welcoming the sweet taste as it slides down my throat. I need all the liquid courage I can get tonight. Ever since that fucking insane moment in Alessio’s office, the tension between us has ratcheted up to an almost unbearable level.

And then there’s the matter of the cryptic text message I received. I haven’t been able to shake the feeling of unease it brought up.

But I can’t think about that right now. Not when Alessio is looking at me like he wants to fucking lick me up from head to toe.

“Wanna dance?” he rasps suddenly, his large, warm hand closing over mine on the tabletop.

It’s not a request, and we both know it. I let him lead me to the small dance floor, my heart kicking into overdrive as he pulls me into his strong arms.

We sway to the music, our bodies pressed together from chest to thigh. I can feel the hard ridge of his cock against my stomach, and my own body responds with a gush of wetness.

“You’re playing with fire, you know,” Alessio murmurs, his lips brushing against my temple. “Teasing me like this.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I manage, my voice coming out breathy.

He chuckles darkly, his hand splaying across the small of my back, burning through my thin dress. “Don’t lie, sweetheart. You know exactly what you’re doing to me. Looking like a goddamn wet dream, smelling like fucking sin, making me so fucking hard I can barely think straight.”

My breath hitches at his words, my pussy throbbing like there’s no tomorrow. The rough silk of his voice is like a drug, making me weak and mindless with need. Suddenly, all I can think about is to let this brute of a man fill me until there’s no room for anything else.

The song ends, and Alessio leads me off the dance floor, his hand possessively laid on my lower back. We weave our way through the crowd and out into the cool night air.

“Let me drive you home,” he says in a gruff tone.

I nod, letting him guide me to his Bugatti Noire. The leather seats are cold against my burning skin, and I shiver as he slides in beside me.

The drive to my apartment is charged, the air between us heavy. By the time we pull up in front of my building, I’m practically vibrating with need.

Alessio walks me to my door, his hand resting on the curve of my hip. I fumble with my keys, my fingers clumsy and trembling.

He takes them from me, unlocking the door. Then he’s crowding me through the entryway, kicking the door shut behind us.

“Alessio-” I start, but he cuts me off with a hard kiss, his mouth hot and demanding against mine. I welcome his delicious tongue with a sigh of relief. Lick and suck on his full lips, bite him…

I melt into him, my fingers tangling in the thick strands of his hair as he backs me up against the wall. His body is hard against mine, his dick a thick ridge pressed to my stomach.

He kisses me like a man possessed, tongue pushing deep, claiming every part of me. I can feel myself getting wet, shaking, pulsating, my body preparing for his invasion. I’m so fucking ready.

Then, just as suddenly as he started, he tears his mouth away. Leaving us both panting, our chests heaving.

“I want you,” he rasps out, eyes blazing with feral hunger. “I want to strip you bare and lick every inch of your fucking sweet skin. Want to bury myself so deep inside you that you forget your own fucking name.”

I whimper, my nails digging into his shoulders. “Alessio, please…”

He closes his eyes briefly, jaw clenching, as if he’s fighting for control. When he opens them again, they’re filled with a steely resolve.

“Not yet,” he says, voice rough. “When I take you, it’s not gonna be some quick fuck against a wall. I’m gonna take my sweet fucking time with you, Maty. Make you fucking beg for my cock.”

With that, he steps back, leaving me aching. He reaches and tucks a curl behind my ear, his fingers lingering on the sensitive skin of my neck.

“Sweet dreams, little one,” he murmurs, his lips quirking into a dark smile.

Then he’s gone, the door closing shut behind him with a soft click.

I slump against the wall, my legs feeling completely boneless. My skin too tight, my body buzzing with unsatisfied need. Goddamn you, Alessio DeLuca!

I’m just about to push off the wall and head to my bedroom, fully intending to take care of my dripping pussy, when my phone buzzes in my purse.

I pull it out, my heart sinking when I see yet another text from the unknown number.

UNKNOWN: Tick tock, little Maty. Can’t keep hiding forever…

A chill runs down my spine, fear knotting in my gut. Who the hell is this, and what the fuck do they want from me?

* * *

Alessio

Fuck. The way Maty looked tonight, with her painted-on dress and her smoky eyes, her hair a wild tumble of curls…

I wanted to drag her into the nearest dark corner and fuck her until she screamed. Fucking pump her full of my jizz, make her walk funny, with my cum dripping between her legs. Wanted to bend her over the hood of my car and take her right there in the street, not giving a single fuck about who might see us. Spread her thick thighs, the hem of her dress bunched at her waist, her full round ass exposed to the cold night air and my big hands, grip her hips, and fucking slide home. Watch myself glide through her folds, get coated in her sweet juices… My olive skin pushing into her dark brown.

She’s under my skin, fucking burrowing herself deeper with every passing day. And the harder I try to resist, the more I crave her. I fought this shit for five fucking long years. But I’m fucking done.

I grip the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white, fighting the urge to turn the car around and go back to her apartment. To finish what we started, and finally claim what’s fucking mine.

But I can’t. Not yet. I meant what I said - when I take Maty, it’s not gonna be some rushed fuck. I intend to take my time, learn every fucking curve and hollow of her body until I know it better than my own.

My cock throbs at the thought, straining against the fabric of my slacks. I adjust myself with a muttered curse, trying to push away images of Maty spread naked for me, her beautiful eyes glazed with pleasure, pouty lips kiss-swollen.

It’s a losing battle. She’s all I can think about, all I can fucking see. And I know I won’t be at peace until I have her. Until she’s mine in every fucking way.