Page 71 of Maddest Temptation

“Does it still hurt?” I looked up at him.

He shook his head. “I’m used to the pain.” He repeated my words from earlier.

A sudden wave of anger arose in me. I wanted to hurt the man who had hurt Cassio. The reaction hit hard, and I pushed it aside worried for what it meant.

“You shouldn’t.”

“It’s our way,” he said simply. “We give our blood and our lives to the Outfit.”

I nodded because I understood him, but it didn’t mean I liked it. So, I continued drawing a path on his body. Each time my fingers ghosted over his skin, he shivered goosebumps erupting all over him.

Eventually, I got close to his briefs, and lingered there watching how his eyes fluttered and enjoying how his breath hitched. I never felt so powerful in my life. To know I was doing that to him.

Cassio stood there patiently as I rediscovered his body, much as he had done mine. Feeling bold, I slipped my hand down and cupped him through the fabric of his boxers. He sucked air through his teeth. Cassio was large and heavy, a massive difference from Paolo. It was comical even.

In my four years of marriage, I hadn’t done much, Paolo had his mistresses to do it for him. When we had sex, it was hard and fast, thankfully lasting a few minutes. Most of those times I had been drunk or drugged. “What do I do?”

“Anything, Principessa, anything is fine.”

I kept on caressing him through his briefs and eventually curiosity and desire made me grab them and pull them down. Cassio’s cock was strained against his stomach, large and imposing. He groaned loudly when I circled it with my fingers. He was soft and warm in my hand, soft like velvet. I pumped it a few times, and circled his head, enjoying the feel of him in my hands. I increased the pressure and sped up, but he placed a hand over mine, forcing me to stop.

“Later,” Cassio promised.

So, I let go and returned to inspecting his body, now trailing upward toward the black ink over his heart. I traced the intricate letters, my heart aching as I read the name tattooed on his chest.

Arabella.

I wanted to ask when he had it done, but I knew talking about her would sever this moment. Cassio had tensed while I traced her name. I looked up at him and cupped his chiseled jaw. His green lust-filled eyes met mine.

Cassio captured my mouth. This kiss was savage, like he was trying to purge his mind of dark thoughts. I couldn’t blame him. He bit my lip and grabbed my waist, throwing me back onto the bed, and climbing over me.

He kissed me leisurely like we had all the time in the world, and I pretended we did. When we pulled apart, he knelt in between my legs and rubbed my thighs up and down repeatedly.

Cassio curled his fingers around my panties and looked at me, a silent request. I nodded, and he began removing my drenched panties. I was no fully naked, he kept on rubbing my legs and slowly opened them and gazed at me.

“Beautiful, so fucking beautiful.” He leaned in and kissed the inside of my left thigh.

“I’m scared,” I confessed.

“I’ll make it good; I promise.” He kissed me slowly.

In that moment, I realized I wasn’t simply scared of what was about to happen, but I was scared by how my heart was starting to react, to his words and touches. To how he was cherishing my body as though I were a goddess. His goddess.

“I know.” I replied.

Cassio positioned himself and I felt his tip pressing against my entrance. I could sense how large he was, and I sucked in a deep breath anticipating the pain. “It won’t fit.”

“Yes, it will,” he assured me. “And you’re going to take all of me, Principessa.” He pushed in slowly, but he was too large. “All of me, Francesca.” He held me down with his body. I dug my nails into the skin of his back, as Cassio eased himself fully into me.

“Jesus,” he groaned. “You’re so fucking tight around me.” I watched as his chest rose and fell.

Cassio looked at me and I realized he was waiting for me. Despite his eagerness and need, he was waiting. He was stretching me and despite not being in pain, I wasn’t feeling any pleasure either.

“What do you need?” His concern caused my heart to clench.

“J-just… kiss me.” He did, he kissed me slowly and gently, not once moving. Slowly the pressure began to turn into pleasure. I tilted my hips upwards.

“Fuck, Francesca,” he groaned.

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