Page 73 of Maddest Temptation

This was dangerous. Francesca had lips of a witch, pouring poison into my veins. Slowly consuming every inch of me. Settling herself into my mind, owning me completely. I was bewitched. This had to stop. It was maddening, this temptation. This need to have her. She was driving me insane.

The sound of footsteps stole me from my thoughts. I turned and found Francesca heading my way, wearing my shirt, and a look of satisfaction on her face. She was so fucking beautiful, like a goddess. I wanted to worship at her feet.

“Couldn’t sleep?” I asked as she came down the stairs.

“I reached for you, and you were gone. Couldn’t sleep?” she asked me.

“Work,” I said simply.

“Do you always work this late in the night?”

“Do you always have trouble sleeping?”

She walked shaking her hips on purpose, my shirt riding up but not enough to show me if she was totally naked underneath or not. I, on the other hand, was sitting buck-ass naked on the sofa, blood rushed down to my groin and my dick sprung back to life.

She pulled the phone from my hand and threw it beside me. Francesca straddled my lap, and I hissed as her heated core kissed my dick. She was naked underneath my shirt. Dear heavens. This woman was going to be the death of me.

“Will you answer my question?”

“Will you?” I tried to sound cold, to push her away. I needed to put space between us or else I was going to lose control all over again.

“What do I get in return?” She moved her hips, causing friction between us.

I placed my hands on her hips trying to stop her, but it was too good. She felt too good against me. “If you want me to fuck you again, all you have to do is ask.” The words slipped out of my mouth.

Francesca leaned into me and whispered softly. “I want you to fuck me, Cassio.” The way she said my name was sultry and dirty, and I fucking loved it. Apparently, she wasn’t as tired as I thought.

I lifted her hips and guided myself inside her again. Francesca was warm and tight and so damned wet, gripping me so hard, I had a feeling I wasn’t going to last long. She moved her hips, and I let her do whatever she wanted. Letting her discover what she liked and what she didn’t. My hands rested on her waist, and I held her tight.

Her chest rose and fell as she rode me, and I couldn’t take it any longer, I removed her shirt. Her pale skin shone in the light, golden and bright. Her pink nipples were tight and begging for attention, I leaned forward and captured one in my mouth and sucked on it.

Francesca increased her pace almost frantically as she chased yet another orgasm. We were on a roll tonight. I couldn’t blame her, neither could I stop her. She felt too good around my cock.

She opened her mouth and let out those breathy moans that were music to my ears. I rested back against the couch and watched as she came undone clenching around me like a vise. Francesca arched her back and called out my name again, and eventually stopped moving. I was about to bend over and fuck her as I wished when something on her skin grabbed my attention.

I had seen it before, but I’d been too focused on fucking her, to stop. She had a tattoo on her chest, it depicted three birds flying. I ran my finger over it and stared at her.

“Francesca,” I traced the scar–hidden by the tattoo–with my fingers. “What’s this?”

“Nothing.” She lied.

Well, it didn’t look like nothing. It looked like someone had stabbed her. My blood boiled to the point I could erupt. This was no small thing. Someone had hurt her.

“Explain,” I bit out. She tried to get up, but I stopped her again. “Stop running.”

“Stop making me,” she begged.

“Fine.” I let go of her. “Go.” I looked away.

Francesca got up and sat on the other side of the sofa, her gaze stuck on the view before us. I didn’t want trouble. I already had enough of it in my life. I didn’t need more of it, and here I was asking for more.

“No one hurt me,” she said after a while. “I did this to myself.” I found her looking at her hands. It was obvious that she wasn’t proud of this, of what happened.“I lost control.”

“Of what, Francesca?” I snapped. She looked up at me for a second and I saw how embarrassed she was.

“I was high, Paolo and I had fought about something, probably one of his whores and I just…I wanted to make him hurt, too.” She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. “He’d bought this new sports car, which cost him a fortune. I didn’t know it was so fast. I lost control and hit the wall.”

I stared at her not knowing what to say. The hurt and the shame were written all over her face. “I wasn’t wearing a seatbelt,” she explained.

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