Page 83 of Not Mine to Keep

“Attagirl, fuck my face.” His smooth, dark words had me spiraling. And then he spoke to me in Italian, turning me on even more. “Come for me, Calliope.” The order vibrated against my skin, and I kept hold of his hair and did exactly as he said. My back went off the desk like I was possessed, and I cried out his name on repeat so loud it’d be clear to everyone what happened.

Before I had a chance to get my bearings, he had me on my feet, wrists still bound, and he bent me over the desk, so my tits smashed into the wood and my hands were over my head. “Tell me what you want.” He skated his hand over my ass cheek, then slid a finger from that angle between my legs, and I flinched from being so sensitive from the orgasm.

“Your handprint on my ass.” I said what he was waiting to hear.

He gripped hold of my hips now, letting me feel his cock at my back. “You sure?”

“Or the sting of the belt?”

“No,” he said without hesitation. “I could never ... no.”

There was my sweet guy. Damn, the sweet guy would destroy me, though. And I needed the darkness right now. The darkness was safe. For the first time in my life, it was comforting. Because tomorrow in the light, when I was a schoolteacher—not a mafia princess—again, I knew I’d fall to pieces and never be the same, knowing this man wasn’t mine.

“Your hand, then,” I pleaded.

He freed my hips and smoothed his hand there before I felt the heavy weight of his palm slap my ass. No time to process, his lips covered whatever mark he’d left.

“Be an asshole.” My voice broke as I reminded him it was better for him to be a jerk than a teddy bear.

“Yes, ma’am.” He secured the condom from the desk, and my fingers went into my palms with anticipation of what was to come.

I’d expected him to take me from that angle, but he guided me onto my back, unshackled my wrists, then hooked my ankles around his hips before setting a hand alongside my body.

My hand went to his chest, feeling his heart hammering wildly as he stared at me. His crown was near my center, but he didn’t push inside me.

He quietly removed my hand from his chest and set his palm on my stomach before sliding it up between my breasts.

I gave him a nod, an okay to fill me, and he slammed into me in one fast movement, as if preferring to rip off the Band-Aid of pain with how tight he’d assumed I’d be.

“You okay?” He went still, and I blinked back tears.

“Asshole,” I mouthed, preferring him to assume the gloss of my eyes was from how thick he was and not from the emotions destroying me with our bodies connected.

His eyes narrowed in question, but then he began moving again. Thrusting slowly to help my body accept his size.

Doing my best to distract myself from the overwhelming sensations, I grabbed hold of his good arm, feeling the rock-solid muscle there as he held his weight over me.

“I’m already close.” His jaw strained as he squeezed his eyes shut as if angry at that fact. “I’m trying to hold back until you come. But you’re so fucking tight and just ...”

“Just what?” I practically breathed out, my body aching, the bundle of nerves between my legs on fire with the need to release. I’d never had two back-to-back orgasms, though, normally too sensitive to be so much as touched again after the first one. But this man, well ...

His eyes flashed open as he stared at me. “I can’t answer that.” Brows tight, he added, “You don’t want me to.”

Oh.

Ohhh.

“You still want me to be an—”

“Yes,” I forced out, even though it was no longer true. I wanted him to be whoever he chose to be in this moment, but I was too scared to say that. Too scared of the consequences for the both of us.

“I can’t look at you while I do this then,” he said, his tone almost sad as he eased out, and I felt his loss in so many ways.

He had me on my stomach, bent over, his hand pinning down my back as he pushed back inside me, and I gasped. His free hand shifted around to my sex, and his thumb moved there in perfect rhythm as he thrust in and out.

I tensed up, shocked I might come a second time as he touched my swollen clit while fucking me hard.

“Yes, yes, oh, God, yes.” I finally remembered I could move, too; I’d been a bent-over statue before. When that happened, I found my release and his happened just after.

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