Page 89 of Maddest Temptation

I headed toward my closet and opened the first drawer, removing one of my many ties. I had never been this kind of man. Kinky shit wasn’t for me; I liked it raw, no bondage, or whips, or shit like that. I marched back toward her, and she eyed the tie in my hands. I knew she wanted to ask, and I knew she was burning inside to know what I was going to do with it.

“Turn around.” I helped her turn. I wrapped the tie around her eyes and made sure it was secure.

Francesca stilled for a while, her shoulders tensing and her breathing speeding up—not in a good way. I breathed next to her earlobe, and she gasped as I pulled her hair to the side, enjoying the silky smoothness of it. I kissed her neck once.

“I don’t want you to focus on only pleasing me.” My arm snaked around her chest and ran down her flat stomach and I stopped right at her navel. She sucked in a deep breath.

“It’s your birthday,” she panted.

“Trust me, Principessa, pleasing you, over and over again, is the best gift I could wish for.”

I finally touched her where she wanted me the most. I slipped my fingers in between her legs and touched her clit before sliding them down towards her entrance. She was already soaking wet. I kept my hand down there, tracing little circles, keeping to the same rhythm. No longer than a few minutes and she was already panting hard, trying to move against me. I held her neck, forcing her to lay her head against my shoulder. Francesca began to spasm as I sucked on her skin, knowing I was going to leave a mark, one I wanted everyone else to see it.

“Don’t.” I stopped her before she could remove the tie from her eyes. Francesca groaned but complied.

I shoved my fingers into her channel and fucked her with them until Francesca was trembling hard and calling my name repeatedly. Her legs quivered and I had to hold her before she fell to the floor. I pulled my fingers out and lifted Francesca into my arms, carrying her to the bed.

Her breasts were full and driving me fucking mad. Her skin was smooth, and I wanted to touch her all over. I planned on doing just that. I didn’t want her to see me, I wanted her to focus on feeling. I began with soft kisses here and there, and whenever she tried to touch me back, I stopped. By the third time, she stopped trying. I rewarded her by sucking on one nipple and then the other, kissing the space between both breasts, and kept to the ritual, kissing, sucking, and touching her everywhere.

“Cassio!” she cried. Always impatient.

“What do you want?” I asked, caressing her breast.

“You know,” she whimpered.

“I need a little more than that.” I ran my fingers over her thigh.

“I want you, god damnit,” she huffed.

Francesca arched her back the moment I lapped at her clit. She gripped the sheets with force, and I began working her up again. I kept on giving her light kisses and sucking her clit from time to time. Her breathing increased and as she began to moan, I knew she was close. Francesca’s legs began shaking, telling me she was close once again. I inserted my finger inside her entrance and pumped a few times knowing she was about to lose it. When I felt her clenching on my fingers, I kissed her bundle of nerves, sucking hard. She broke apart, closing her legs around me and lifting her hips from the bed.

I kept on sucking until I decided she had earned her reprieve. Licking my lips, I couldn’t help myself. I smiled. Francesca was completely relaxed on my bed, a big fat smile on her face.

I needed her, like really needed her, but I wanted her to enjoy her bliss. Faster than I thought possible she removed the tie, sat up, and pushed me back onto the bed. Her cheeks were pink and her hair a wild mess.

“Enough,” she said, her hands pressed against my chest. “I want to see you. I want to touch you. I want you.” She sat back pressing her core against me. I groaned, my hands landing on her waist.

“As you wish.” I smiled.

In an instant, she sheathed me inside of her, her head lolling back, my name on her lips. Francesca began moving achingly slow, finding her rhythm. I had never felt so fucking good in my life. She was heaven and she was perfection. She was home.

“Fuck,” I groaned and pushed up from the bed, circling her waist with my arms, and pulled her against me so we sat nose to nose.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I tried to push that thought from my head, and for now, as she rode me, it worked instantly. I didn’t dare think about that again. Instead, I let her do whatever she wanted to do with me.

I slowly opened my eyes, one at a time as I peeked at my surroundings. The room, my room, was a chaotic mess. My clothes were scattered everywhere and so were the sheets. The door to my bathroom was open and I could see bottles and creams on the floor; there were towels too. I closed my eyes again letting everything that happened last night replay in my mind. Once I opened them again, I let them adjust to the sunlight that blazed through my windows. We forgot to close the shades. I looked at the clock, 11:00 a.m. We’d gone to sleep only five hours ago, a few moments after the sun came up.

I was feeling hot, and since my covers lay on the floor, only one thing could explain that. I looked down at Francesca who was practically scaling me. The left part of her body rested over mine, it was kind of suffocating, and yet I didn’t mind. I didn’t care that she was clinging to me, and I didn’t care that she slept here tonight—or last night, or last week. Inhaling the sweet scent of her blonde hair, I took a while to simply…be. I couldn’t recall the last time I woke up this late. It was Thursday and the last thing I wanted to do was stand up and go to my office. The last thing I wanted to think about was my phone and who the hell wanted to bother me right now. So, I didn’t, I just didn’t give a fuck.

As slowly and as gently as I could, I left the bed and picked up a blanket, covering her up. I headed into the bathroom and closed the door, then turned on the shower. The warm water ran down my back and my hair. I looked down at the little scar that now marked my skin. It had been a while since the stitches came off. I ran my hand through it and sighed.

That feeling I had for her hadn’t changed in the four years we spent apart. I was stupid; whatever was happening between Francesca and me was dangerous. Not only for me but for her. Especially her. Francesca was already a target of the Russians, and if others found out, especially Donato, things could get messy. He wanted to marry her of…already had someone in mind. This was the past happening all over again. I was getting involved with her while she was promised to another.

Once I got back from my shower, I found Francesca sitting cross-legged on the bed, her hair falling forward, and a blanket wrapped around her. She held something in her hands, and just like yesterday, she seemed nervous. I dried my hair with the towel and threw it on the floor. I watched as she rolled her eyes, Francesca hated this habit of mine.

“What have you got there?” I asked, kind of curious.

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