Page 85 of City of Wind and Lies

"Hmm, and you were three when you went into foster care?"

"Yeah. I don't really remember much from before that point, but my social workers filled in the blanks over the years."

Seemingly satisfied with my answers, Sal takes a large gulp of the amber-colored liquor in his glass before he continues. "So, how'd you two meet?"

"Salvatore," Corinne scolds. "So inquisitive tonight."

He shrugs, shifting his attention from me to Bowie and raising a brow.

We'd known this question would be coming, and even though Rocco knows the full story, we didn't think 'one-night stand turned boss with benefits' was a good wholesome tale for a family dinner. Bowie glazes over our condensed meet-cute and everyone seems satisfied.

Throughout the rest of dinner, I feel the heavy weight of Sal's pensive gaze on me, making my skin crawl with anxious tingles. As dinner concludes, everyone starts heading back to the sitting room for a glass of Sambuca.

"We'll join you shortly," Bowie announces as he stands, linking his hand with mine. "I'm going to give Wren a tour of the house."

He leads me down a hall, up the stairs, and into the first door on the right.

"Why are we in a bathroom, Bowie?" I chuckle, admiring the polished faucets and pristine mirrors.

His strong hands rub my shoulders. "You seemed a little overwhelmed out there, thought you could use a minute to decompress."

"I don't think your dad likes me," I sigh as his hands work away some tension.

"No, he's just brash in his manners." He nips at my ear. "Let me help you relax before we go out there for round two?"

His hands cruise down my body, and I can feel the heat of his palms on my hips through the satin material of my dress. A flurry of chills run up my spine at his insinuation and I nod my head in agreement. I love how he can read me so well, always knowing exactly what I need.

"Hands on the counter, Passerotta," he directs.

The marble counter is cool to the touch as I lean forward, splaying my hands across the surface.

"Now stick that ass out for me," he growls, as I hear the familiar metal clinks of his belt coming undone.

His hands travel up my thighs, and his touch already has my body craving more. Rucking up my dress, he tugs harshly on my thong, making the fabric rub against my already sensitive clit before he drags them down my thighs.

"Always so fucking wet for me, aren't you Passerotta?" The ripple of Bowie's deep timbre makes my pussy clench with need.

I moan as he screws a thick digit inside me, pressing back to take him deeper. He pumps in and out of me, adding another finger as his thumb presses against the tight ring of muscle of my ass. The sensation startles me, but it's not unpleasant. "I'm gonna fuck you here..." My whole body goes rigid. "...But not tonight."

Anal isn't something I've done or ever given a lot of thought to before, but hell, there hasn't been something I've tried with Bowie that I haven’t liked.

The sound of him spitting makes me lift my head and watch him from the large mirror in front of us. Saliva falls from his lips, warm and wet as it hits my back hole. He spreads it around with his thumb and my breath comes out in a shuddered gasp as the tip of his digit breaches my resistance.

“Relax,” he husks. “Don’t push me out.”

I slowly blow out a breath, trying to relax my muscles.

"Good girl," Bowie praises.

He works both my holes, and the feeling of fullness winds the coil tighter in my belly. I can feel my release nearing, his skilled fingers coaxing me closer to the edge, but just as I'm about to collapse against the counter, he withdraws his hand.

"Bow-ie," my groan transforms into a moan as his fingers dig into my hips and he thrusts his cock inside, turning my objection into satisfaction.

"Fuck!” I cry out as he hammers into me at a relentless pace.

One of his tattooed hands circles my throat, pulling me back against his chest. Our eyes lock in the mirror. "Shh, I need you to be quiet this time. Think you can do that for me?"

My mouth opens to respond right as he ruts deep inside me again and another cry of pleasure tears from my throat.

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