Page 148 of Forced Vows

Róise pulls my thumb to her mouth, sucking the blood off and sending powerful currents of pleasure straight to my dick.

My balls draw tight and I have to grit my teeth against coming. But I'm not ready. Because she's not ready.

Her eyes filled with an emotion I refuse to name, Róise offers her thumb.

Bending, I lower my head to take it into my mouth. The sweet copper flavor of her life's essence bursts over my tongue. Sucking and licking, I treat that sweet digit like the erogenous zone I know it can be.

Her eyes go half-mast and my body speeds up until I'm pounding into her like an animal. She urges me on the whole way, moaning and trying to meet my thrusts with the little movement I've allowed her body.

And then, she goes rigid, her eyes unfocused her mouth open on a silent scream. Her ass muscles choke my dick so tight if I wasn't hard as a pike, I wouldn't be able to move.

I fuck her through her climax wondering if the pleasure just might kill me. This time when my nuts grow tight with that burning sensation that says I'm about to come, I thrust harder and deeper.

I erupt inside her, coming so hard, it hurts, but it's a pain I never want to end.

Words I have never said sit on the tip of my tongue and I clamp my mouth shut.

We belong to each other, but the organ beating in my chest does not have a corresponding entity in my soul.

Love is a weakness and I have spent my lifetime controlling mine. Hiding them.

~ ~ ~

Afterward, we shower and I find her a paint splattered T-shirt to wear.

Like usual when I'm here since my father's death, I'm naked. Paint smears on my clothes would be hard to explain. If I felt the need to explain myself.

But I like creating naked. In those hours I am not a De Luca made man. Not the Genovese underboss. I am simply Miceli, the core of myself. The core no one alive has seen until now.

Why did I bring her here? I'm not Sev. I don't think Róise needs access to all my secrets. But I've given it to her.

Cazzo.

What's done is done. But this is as far as it goes.

We can enjoy each other's bodies, but that doesn't mean getting our hooks into each other's souls.

"Are you going to show me your art now?" Róise asks walking toward one of the easels.

There's a little hitch in her step.

I'm beside her in a second, grabbing her shoulders and turning her so I can see her face. "Are you alright?"

Against her loud protests, I meticulously checked her ass for tears and/or blood in the shower. She was swollen but not torn.

"More than." She grins and then winces. "But it will be a few days before we can do that again."

"More like a few weeks."

"Says you."

"Says me."

"Listen here, Mr. Big Shot Underboss, I let you boss me around during sex, but you don't get to boss me around about it. If I say my body is ready in a few days. It's ready."

I don't argue. But I'm not fucking her ass until I'm sure she's up to it.

To change the subject, I pull the cloth off of the painting on the center easel. "This is what I'm working on now."

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