Page 147 of A Beautiful Crime

I raise a cool brow at him. “You decide, Constantine. Do you want this to end with us fucking on your desk or do you want to go about your day with a raging hard on and balls blue?”

“You’re quite persuasive, future Mrs. Donati.” Mrs. Donati. I can’t even begin to explain the happiness of bearing his last name gives me. And with it comes power.

I shrug nonchalantly. “I’ve learned from the best, future husband of mine. The Devil can be quite persuasive.”

“Ah, he very well can be.” Resting his hands upon his thighs he stares up at me. A wayward strand of hair lays perfectly on his forehead.

Everything about this man is criminal. From his morals down to his looks. At once glance he’d have any saint willingly become a sinner.

And as much as I would love to say he corrupted me I know he didn’t. He only awakened me.

“Now, be a good boy and crawl.”

His expression darkens with lust as he places his hands on the floor. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows with great anticipation.

And just like that I have The Devil of the East Coast, The Don of The Donati Famiglia, Constantine Donati, on all fours before me.

That’s power.

He begins to crawl and I hop off his desk, prowling after him like a predator would its prey.

But calling Constantine prey is wrong. Because even on all fours he moves like a panther. An apex predator.

Admiring the view I hum in appreciation. When he reaches the middle of his office I order, “Stop.” He does it at once.

He turns his head to the side, a smirk playing on his lips. “Now that you have me where you want me, what are you going to do with me?”

I pretend to ponder the question. While I do I stalk behind him. His eyes take in my legs, legs I’m sure he’s envisioning wrapping around his neck as he feasts upon my flesh. “Eyes down.” His eyes lower but not before he flashes me a devious wink.

I circle around him. Asserting myself as the true predator. With each pass around his muscles tense. Stopping before him I lift his chin with the tip of my shoe.

The hunger in his eyes would scare a weaker woman.

I arch a cool brow at him. “Did I say you could talk?” His mouth curves to a downright sinful smile. He shakes his head. “There’s better use of that mouth of yours. Even more so with your tongue.” He does a slow pass of his lips with his tongue and arousal slicks my thighs. With my legs parted I’m sure he can smell it.

Releasing his chin I hike the slip of my dress and spread my legs wide. He has the perfect view of my cunt. Wet and throbbing only ever for him.

His jaw ticks as he hisses, “Dio mio, mia leonessa . You have the prettiest fucking cunt. Allow me to have a taste.”

His filthy words are music to my ears. They spike my blood and cause my core to clench greedily.

Taunting him I sensually snake my hand down my body to my aching core. I circle my clit before I plunge a finger in my pussy. He groans at the sight. Wanting him on the edge I slowly pump my finger in and out. The obscene sounds of my wet pussy fill the room and I’m not ashamed.

And as great as it feels to fuck myself with my fingers it will never be as satisfying as Constantine’s fingers filling me. Nor as euphoric as his cock inside me.

He didn’t only ruin me for all men, he ruined me for myself, too.

I gather my arousal on the final pump and with my pointer finger lathered I lean down and place said finger on his lips to silence him.

His nostrils flare from the scent of me. His eyes are crazed. The muscles flare with massive restraint. He goes to swipe his tongue for a taste but I click my own in admonishment.

“Bad boys don’t get a taste.” I remove my finger and watch with a sense of wicked empowerment as he fights his natural instinct.

Taking a step away from him I remove the slip dress and stand before him naked. A deep moan of appreciation rumbles inside his chest but never breaks free from his glistened lips.

I smile at him proudly.

“Turn to face the desk.” He does as I ask.

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