Page 91 of Frayed Bonds

“Fuck I’m going to come.”

“Look at me,” he moans in response, and the vibrations are all I need. My eyes fly open and meet his as I fall off the cliff straight into a pool of warm orgasmic pleasure where I'm completely surrounded by Ambrose.

He slows his movements down slightly, still moaning into my pussy as he licks up the last of my juices. When I eventually gain enough semblance to focus my eyes again and look at him properly, I find his eyes already locked on me.

It’s a hungry stare and I’m sure if we had more time, he’d have an all-you-can-eat buffet. I sit up and he sits back on his heels, face glistening with my juices and I close my legs in embarrassment.

He chuckles. “No need to be shy after a show like that, the picture is ingrained in my mind forever sweetheart.“

I clear my throat and he looks at me, a brow raised. “Can I… you know. Return the favour?”

For the first time, I watch a red tint take over Ambrose’s face. His hand reaches up to scratch the back of his neck. “I, ummm… I came in my pants.”

My eyes widen, and I stare at him in disbelief.

“No one more surprised than I am, it hasn’t happened since I was like fucking fourteen. You were just so fucking sexy…” He trails off, eyes darkening as he stares up at me adoringly. Him in this position, on his knees looking up at me seems almost submissive.

I have Ambrose Vitale on his knees for me.

“Next time I’ll take care of you, if you don't blow in your pants like a teenager,” I chuckle. “We should probably get going.”

“Just let me change my pants,” he says breathlessly and walks to the bathroom.

When I pick up my phone, I let out a scoff.

Nine minutes exactly.

I refuse to tell him it was less than ten out of fear of what that might do to his ego. It’s already the size of the entire island, I don't think it needs to get any bigger.

“Okay, let’s go.” He comes out dressed far more casually in a tracksuit – a grey one to be exact. My eyes nearly bulge out of my head. God, this man is clearly gifted in more ways than one.

“As much as I love how you're staring at my dick right now, sweetheart, we have to go.”

“I wasn't staring, I was …appreciating the good view.”

“Uh-huh sure, it’s even better without the pants, trust me,” he winks at me and then heads for the door.

We get to the art store with literal minutes to spare and I swear I can feel the cashier’s hatred for us as soon as we step in. Usually, I’m never a last-minute shopper but tonight I can excuse being late–just this once.

“Can you go find out if they can have a two-metre by two-metre canvas delivered to my house tomorrow?” I ask.

He nods and heads directly for the counter without even questioning why I could need such a large canvas. Walking around the store is almost like second nature for me, I remember where every single supply is like it’s the back of my hand.

I head straight for the paint aisle with a shopping cart, I’m going to need paint and lots of it, in quite a few colours. I know I want the painting to convey a strong sense of passion and adoration especially since I’ll be replicating Jackson Pollock. I want the admiration for his work to be clear.

Standing in the aisle I pull out my phone to Google colours and their association cursing myself for not doing it sooner. I immediately grab the most obvious contenders, red, pink and purple. I also throw in a can of white and some spray paint for highlights.

“I’d go with some gold as well, it seems fitting with your colour palette.” A deep voice says from behind me and I nearly jump out of my skin because it’s familiar... too familiar.

I spin around and there he is, slightly further down the aisle leaning against a shelf. His brown curls hang messily over his forehead, nearly blocking his view. He looks the same, same stature, the same build and the same arrogant aura.

“Mattheo,” I say, barely a whisper as I feel a coldness surround me.

“I mean I figured you'd be surprised to see me, but imagine how surprised I was to see you hopping out of none other than Ambrose Vitale's Audi, looking hopelessly in love,” he says eyes trailing the shelves as if he too were shopping for supplies. "Imagine how surprised I was to see you run back to Tevici, the dump I saved you from. The shock when I saw you rubbing shoulders with Italy’s elite, did you think I wouldn’t find you, Vee?”

“I-I…” No words come out.

“And you could imagine my surprise when I received those divorce papers, still haven't signed them, by the way,” he smirks. “Although I see you're not wearing your ring anymore.” He scolds. “I thought our love was more passionate than that.”

---