Page 44 of Brutal Legacy

I leaned in and kissed him, sliding my tongue over his, and let my hand trail down his flat, packed abs, then to his belt. I tugged at it, showing him my intention.

He gripped my hair and tilted my face back. “Tell me you’ll marry me. Give me your answer,” he demanded.

“Isn’t it obvious?” I asked.

He shook his head slowly, his gaze running over my face. “Not to an unworthy soul like me. I need to hear it.”

I took a deep breath and leapt. “I’ll marry you. I’ll be your wife.”

A smile crept over his face, a blinding sunrise.

“My wife,” he whispered, repeating my words. “I like the sound of that. You will be my wife.”

I nodded, his smile so infectious, I was grinning madly back. “I will be your wife, so why don’t you do your husbandly duties?”

I gave him a wicked smile and pulled his belt free, undoing the top button of his jeans. His breath hitched, his eyes turning even more molten, a feat that shouldn’t have been possible.

“Let’s seal this deal the old-fashioned way.” I delved my hand fearlessly into his unbuttoned jeans.

“What, a handshake?” Elio raised his hips slightly.

I ruthlessly tugged down his boxers and jeans just enough for his cock to spring free. I’d seen one before; I lived in the age of the internet. And yet, the feel of Elio’s, warm and pulsing in my hand, was fascinating. I scooched back, straddling his knees now so I could peer more closely at his dick. He was big, of course; I’d suspected that, given the bulge he showcased in his jeans even when not hard. Big but beautifully formed. I ran my hand up and down the shaft, and his breath caught.

Oh, I liked that. I felt powerful like I never had when I held this man who I loved’s cock in my hand and explored it. Worldly, confident Elio Santori, thecittaiolo, all-knowing city bad boy, didn’t seem so cocky, suddenly. He was hungry… hungry for me.

“Sure, we can shake on it.” I ran my thumb over the slit at the top of his cock and smeared the clear liquid there. “Don’t forget to spit first,” I added and brought my hand to my lips, spitting into my palm, then returning to my indulgent exploration.

He tensed, letting out a tight hiss. He jerked, his cock leaking against my palm. It was so alien and strange-looking, and yet, I couldn’t turn away.

“Topolina, keep touching me like that, and this isn’t going to last very long.” He caught my wrist.

“I brought protection,” I blurted awkwardly when he maneuvered me to the hay. He’d spread a large blanket under us. The lights were burning low, and it felt like we were the only people in the world.

He moved my dress up my thighs and stopped when my pussy came into sight.

“Tell me you didn’t go to dinner without panties on?”

I giggled. I could feel his hot breath on my skin.

“I only don’t wear panties when I know you’re going to be there.”

He smirked at me. “That’s my girl. Now, let me see that pretty pussy.”

I squirmed beneath his gaze. He was staring right at me, pushing my knees apart so I was spread wide open, with nothing to hide behind.

“Don’t be shy, Georgia. You’re perfect. Everything about you is perfect to me.” He leaned in. “I want to taste you.”

“Taste!” I nearly squeaked.

“You tasted me. It’s only fair,” he murmured.

Yes, that was right. I had tasted him. The salty musk still lived on my tongue.

Then his tongue touched me, and I couldn’t think about anything else.

“You’re so good at this,” I panted, a worrisome thought taking form. Had he had a lot of other lovers?

“I must be a natural since I’ve never done it before,” he said against my skin, seeming to read my mind.

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