Page 59 of Not Mine to Keep

“I think you know,” I confessed as he moved his fingers in and out, then added his thumb to my sensitive spot like he already knew how and where to find it. “And I hate you for making me feel this way.”

“Sure you do,” he remarked in a dark tone, continuing to push me just near the edge.

I rotated my hips, shimmying my ass against his hard cock, and his fingers stilled. “Stop moving like that, or I’m going to flip you over and fuck you instead.” His warning only fueled me to move more, but when he added, “And then Armani wins,” I hit the brakes.

What am I thinking? You’re right.That asshole couldn’t ever get what he wanted.

“Good girl.” He resumed strumming my clit. “Fuck, you’re tight.” I wasn’t sure if he was back to playing a role for the men in the hall or was only helping further me along, but I was too close to coming to care.“That’s it,” he said when I began rubbing against the heel of his hand, moving in time with his fingers inside me. “Come for me, Calliope.”

And that’ll do it.My moans and cries had to have been heard outside the room. No way they’d think they were fake, considering I’d lost control and cried out Alessandro’s name again. Breathing hard, every nerve ending electric, the most amazing feeling spread throughout my limbs as I fell apart on his hand. Myhusband’shand.

I was mush, and I collapsed onto the bed and stared at the man in his briefs as he covered me with the comforter.

“Time for part two,” he mouthed, reminding me we would have to fake something—himgetting off now. He grabbed hold of the headboard and began rhythmically beating it against the wall, never losing hold of my eyes in the process as he fake-pounded into me.

If only it were real ...

After he completed the act with a long, fake groan and grunt, he tipped his head toward the bathroom and whispered, “Be right back.”

So he didn’t want to get off in front of me, huh? Not quite fair, but smart. If I had to watch him stroke his cock, I’d sink to my knees before him and use my mouth in a way he’d probably be much more a fan of than my sass.

At the bathroom door, he turned around and peered at me, and I could read the look in his eyes—this can never happen again.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Alessandro

Naked, I stepped into the shower without turning on the water. I’d never been so close to losing control in all my life. And hell, I kind of did—I got her off.

I brought my hand beneath my nose, inhaling her scent, then fisted my cock.

Angry at the desire pushing through me for a woman I couldn’t ever have, I slammed my left hand to the wall, catching sight of the wedding band.

I’m married. And I nearly fucked my wife.

I slid my hand up and down my length, hating how much I wished it were her hand. Or God help me, her mouth wrapped around my dick instead. On her knees. Eyes meeting mine as she took me.

Her tits were spectacular, but when she showed me her ass in that lingerie as she’d turned and taken a knee on the bed ... Well, I’d never thought I was an ass man, but after tonight, consider me a convert.

And also weak, because I couldn’t fight temptation. But hell, those pricks in the hall had heard her come. The only restraint I’d showntonight was not going out there and killing them for now knowing how my wife sounded when coming.

I let go of that insane thought, remembering the marriage was for the sake of a job.You’re not mine to get jealous over.

But for now, thoughts of her would be what got me off. My taut muscles flexed, and every part of me locked tight as I climbed the much-needed edge of release that normally took me forever to get to. I was about to become a sixty-second man for the first time since I’d lost my virginity in high school.

I cursed and curled my fingers into a fist against the wall as I came hard all over the shower inside Armani Fucking DiMaggio’s house of all places.

Energy spent and breathing hard, I did my best to pull myself together and finally turned on the water, careful not to let the hot water hit my back, which still burned and ached.

After rinsing off, I grabbed a towel, then went out to face the music. In this case, themusician.

The second she saw me, she drew the covers tighter to her body while her eyes wandered down my wet chest to where the towel sat on my hips.

This woman was going to be the death of me. Frustrated for reasons I wasn’t sure I quite understood, I went for the door, needing to get the conversation with the guards over with.

I gripped the brass handle and flung open the door, catching sight of Frankie and Leo in the hall. “You can go to bed now.”

Frankie attempted to walk in, but I remained a blockade to his entry. Callie was barely wearing anything in that bed, and God help the man—or in his case, the devil—if he tried to peel back the covers. “We need to come in. Make sure you consummated the marriage. DiMaggio’s orders.” He attempted to stare me down, and it wasn’t going to work.

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