Page 72 of His Passerotta

A memory of the last time I was sick comes into my mind. I just eat the canned chicken noodle soup from the grocery store next to my building. It’s worked for me this long.

I don’t need anyone else. It’s silly for me even to be listening to this.

“If what you had was so great, why did you break up with the women?” I ask, knowing the answer. It’s the same answer for everyone, whether or not they’ve searched deep down. He got bored.

“I’ve never had it,” Anthony says. “I just want it, one day.”

“One day when you’re not busy sleeping with your captives.”

He laughs, rolling his bottom lip into his mouth and running his tongue over it. “Funny. You’re neither my captive nor are we sleeping together.” He leans toward me, sucking up all the air to replace it with his scent that has me shifting closer. “Yet.”

“You sound pretty sure of yourself.”

“It’s just a vibe you put off,” he sarcastically says. “It started around the time you had my cock in your mouth.”

Goosebumps break out on my arms at the silkiness of his voice. I find myself leaning into him, my breath skittering when his hands run up my sides. I half expect him to keep teasing me, so I try not to get lost to his spell, but it’s hopeless.

He rests his forehead against mine and closes his eyes while he caresses my sides with the light touch of his fingers.

“That reminds me…” I shiver at his breath tickling my lips. “I owe you.”

“Owe me what?” My voice is heady. Warmth starts behind my ears and burns a path down my neck as he brushes my lips with his.

He puts his mouth to my ears while his hands move to my ass. “This.”

A gasp pulls from my lungs when he lifts me up to set me on the counter, but it’s silenced by his lips crashing to mine in a brutal kiss. His hand squeezes the back of my neck, and he pulls me away, breaking our kiss to lower me onto my back.

Cold metal puts out the fire behind my ears, but it does nothing for my core. Not even the cool air can tame the blaze when Anthony pushes up my dress, resting my legs on his shoulders.

Hungry eyes take me in only for a moment before he bends and plants kisses up my inner thighs. He hasn’t even touched my sex, but already I’m writhing at the anticipation.

He peeks at me with a knowing smirk before dipping down again and running his tongue over my panties.

“Ohhh fuck,” I say, squirming in his grasp.

How long has it been since I’ve had this? Months?

Never with Anthony Gruco.

Oh my God.

His tongue presses against the thin fabric right where my clit is, and my hips jolt.

“So eager.”

He runs his thumb down the middle of my panties and stops to press on my hole. “Tell me what you want.”

“You,” I say without pause.

I feel his lips spread into a smile against my thigh. “More specifically?”

He rocks his thumb, creating all kinds of crackling fireworks up my spine, all while never quite being enough with my panties in the way.

“Your mouth.”

“Where?” He brushes his fingertips across my thigh. “Here?”

“No.”

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