Page 45 of Ruthless Guardian

Oh, fuck…

When he’s finished with that one, he takes my middle finger and repeats the spine-tingling process. An endless minute later, he releases my hand and positions it at the apex of my thighs. “Now, slip your index finger under your panties.”

I do as I’m told for once in my life because the ache brewing between my legs is becoming impossible to ignore.

“Are you wet for me,principessa?” His pupils are so blown out, his eyes are nothing but endless spheres of black.

So of course I have to fuck with him. If he knew how badly I wanted him, his gigantic head would explode. “A little,” I rasp. “But it could be from the cute waiter at thetrattoria.”

His eyes flash, a murderous expression carving into his jaw. “Doubtful,” he grinds out. “Shall I check?” He lifts his thick middle finger and runs his tongue across the tip.

“No,” I squeal before my traitorous mouth blurts the complete opposite.

“Now, find your clit,” he whispers.

I find the swollen nub and nod slowly.

“Start circling with the pad of your finger. Do it lightly, like a good girl.” He watches as my finger sinks inside me, raw emotion playing across the hard set of his jaw. “While you’re doing that, take your other hand and slip it beneath your top. With two fingers coax your nipple into a hard peak.”

I do as he instructs, and the pleasure begins to build and blossom, escalating my pulse. His scent invades my nostrils, the musky, amber fragrance a warm cloud around us. If I just close my eyes a little, I can imagine it’s him, his finger instead of mine inside me.

“Good,” he murmurs when a faint moan escapes. “That’s my good girl.”

Dio, I’ve always hated when men used that term, but with him it’s hot as fuck. For once, Iwantto be his good girl.

“Now take your middle finger and slide it inside that dripping wet pussy while you continue to circle your clit.”

I’ve never been so excited to do as I’m told in my entire life. This is certainly not the first time I’ve practiced self-care, but damn, it has never been likethis. This is so beyond my normal realm of comfort.

“That’s right, now fuck your finger and pretend it’s my—” His jaw slams shut, tendon feathering beneath his five o’clock shadow. “Pretend it’s whoever you want.”

I want it to be him. The traitorous thought rises to the surface, but I keep it clenched between my teeth. Instead, I say, “hot waiter at the restaurant…” Because there’s nothing I lovemore than riling him up. Despite that cool mask, I’m fully aware of the monster that lies beneath just waiting to claw its way to the surface. I recognize it well because I’ve been surrounded by powerful men with the same affliction. I dare say, I have my own beast I keep carefully locked deep inside.

A string of curses flees from Raf’s thinned lips, and he bucks beneath me, attempting to stand. “Relax,” I blurt. “I’m just messing with you.”

“You should know better than to fuck with a man who’s holding your orgasm ransom.” The tension from his broad shoulders dissipates as that cocky grin stretches across the hard angles of his jaw.

“I’m pretty sure I could manage by myself just fine.”

His hand closes around my wrist, stopping my movements. “Should we find out?”

“No,” I whine as I grind against his cock, still rock hard beneath me. I’m fairly certain even if I didn’t have use of my fingers, I could eke out an orgasm just from grinding against his hard length. “Can we just do this already?”

“Such a spoiled little mafia princess…”

A growl rips through my gritted teeth. “Fuck you,” I hiss. Nothing pisses me off more than when he calls me that and judging by the stupid grin on his face, he’s well aware of it.

“Oh, believe me,principessa, if you weren’t my client, I’d bend you over the mattress and fuck you until you screamed my name. Your pussy would weep for my cock as I forced out orgasm after orgasm. You’d be walking like you just spent a week in the saddle after I was done with you…” Again, his jaw snaps closed, as if he hadn’t meant to divulge all the sinful thoughts he has about me.

Dio, if he knew I’m a virgin.

A chill skirts up my spine at the embarrassing truth. I would never admit that to Raffaele. He’s likely been with countless women.

“Can we…”

“Yes, let’s finish this.” He presses my palm to my mound, keeping his hand firmly in place on top. His palm is rough and masculine, nothing like the handful of delicate NYU pre-meds I’ve hooked up with in the past. As he continues to exert pressure, he guides my fingers beneath my panties once more.

“In and out, in and out,” he whispers, eyes fixed to mine. “One finger on your clit and the other thrusting in and out of that dripping pussy.”

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