Page 58 of Brutal Vows

I don’t get the chance to question what he is saying because the waitress comes back around to take our order. Her timing couldn’t be worse, but at least she isn’t flirting with my husband. As we place our orders, she scurries off, no doubt sensing the sudden tension hanging in the air between us.

The moment her back is turned, Vitali cups my face with his strong hands and pulls me in for a kiss that steals my breath away. With a subtle, fluid movement, he shifts my chair closer, enveloping me in an intimate cocoon, hidden from the prying eyes of the main restaurant.

“I’d be lying if I said I don’t have feelings for you,” he whispers seductively in my ear, his voice a soft caress. “Ever since the first moment I saw you in the dim glow of that tiny cabin, and you ran from me like a frightened little deer.”

Vitali hooks his hand under my knee, effortlessly lifting the leg closest to him so that my thighs are spread apart. His fingers trail lazily up my inner thigh, igniting a fire beneath my skin, and I have to stifle the gasp that threatens to escape. My eyes dart nervously to the rest of the restaurant, wary of being seen, but Vitali doesn’t allow me to dwell on that thought. Instead, he lightly pinches my inner thigh, commanding my attention.

“Eyes on me, wife.” His voice is smooth yet commanding, and I can’t help but meet his gaze. His hazel eyes, flecked with gold, dance with a mischievous light as he smiles down at me, a playful glint that makes my heart race. “Good girl.”

He reaches into the frosty glass of ice the waitress had left on the table earlier and selects a small, glistening ice cube. With a deliberate motion, his free hand gathers the fabric of my dress, scrunching the hem up to my waist. Thecool air brushes against my exposed skin, and I lick my lips, feeling both excitement and nervous anticipation.

“Keep those eyes on me, Gia,” he instructs once more, his voice a gentle yet firm reminder. I focus on him intently as he guides the ice cube toward my aching core. He draws a deliberate, chilly line along the edge of my panties before slowly slipping the ice inside. His lips curl into a knowing smirk as he lowers the ice further, finally releasing it. The icy cube glides down, settling directly against my clit, sending a shiver through my body.

My core tightens involuntarily, and Vitali chuckles when a small, sharp gasp escapes my lips. Instinctively, I start to move my hand toward my legs, seeking relief, but his voice cuts through the haze of my desire.

“Keep your fucking hands on the table, wife,” he growls, a low, possessive command.

I want to protest, to remind him that we’re seated in the middle of a bustling restaurant, but the waitress appears around the corner, balancing our plates. The ice pressing against my clit makes it nearly impossible to remain still, my mind a whirlwind of sensations as the stinging cold heightens the sensitivity of my flesh, leaving me both flustered and deeply aroused.

“Eyes, Gia,” Vitali commands in a low, icy tone the moment his gaze falls on the wayward look I cast toward the waitress. My heart flutters, and I press my lower lip between my teeth, gazing up at him beneath long, heavy lashes.

The waitress glides gracefully to our table, her steps soft on the polished wood as she places our plates with practiced ease. All the while, Vitali’s hand remains firmly on my thigh—his skin warm and assertive—while his dark eyes maintain a calm, confident poise. Meanwhile, my racingthoughts tangle with the desperate need to keep my hands planted on the table, my body rigid with the secret thrill I’m determined to hide from any prying eyes.

“Let me know if you need anything else,” she offers in a gentle, detached tone as she retreats.

Vitali gives a subtle nod, a slow smile curving his lips as his dark eyes, brimming with hunger, return their focus to me the instant she rounds the corner. The moment she rounds the corner, he deliberately plucks another ice cube from his glass. This time, holding it with deliberate firmness, he plunges his hand beneath the delicate fabric of my panties and begins to trace rough, calculated circles around my sensitive clit.

My back bows against the chair as a shudder ripples through me, my pelvis instinctively tilting away from the sharp, cooling sensation. Every ounce of my being is tethered to his gaze, even as my body rebels against the overwhelming pleasure.

“Such a good fucking wife,” he murmurs in a husky tone, pressing the ice harder against me. The sensation is too much, and I squirm under his touch, yet he continues with an unyielding intensity. Slowly, he glides the ice lower, letting it rim the cube along the slick curve of my wet entrance. My eyes widen, and a silent moan escapes as my trembling hand grips the edge of the table, anchoring me in place.

“Vitali,” I gasp in a low, desperate whisper. His cocky smirk only fuels my conflicted desire, even as his thumb caresses my swollen clit, sending sparks of searing pleasure through every nerve.

Before long, my panting escalates into desperate, pleading breaths. I rock my hips in a frantic bid to generatesome needed friction, but Vitali’s control remains unyielding.

“Behave,” he warns in a dark, velvety whisper, his fingers pinching my clit with a firmness that brooks no argument.

“Please,” I plead, barely audible, “I can’t take much more.”

His eyes glisten with a hungry intensity as he licks his lips, leaning in so that his warm, moist breath cascades over me, igniting a trail of tingling arousal on my sensitive skin.

“You want to come, wife?” he asks, his tone laced with both challenge and promise.

“Yes,” I manage to whisper, the single word heavy with both trepidation and yearning.

A slow smile curves his lips as he swipes the ice over my bundle of nerves one more time before replacing it with the commanding pressure of his thumb.

“Then let’s see what a quiet little mouse you can be while you come for me. Soak my hand, little wife,” he teases in a husky cadence. With deliberate intent, he pushes the remaining fragment of the ice cube deeper into my core, provoking a sharp, involuntary jerk of my body, before sliding his finger in to join its cool intrusion.

“Vitali,” I whimper, my voice lost in the haze of rising pleasure as he works me with a relentless rhythm. His finger thrusts in and out of my slick, pleading pussy while his thumb expertly dances over my pleasure center, driving me further into euphoria.

“Come for me,principessa,” he commands, his tone both insistent and tender. Helplessly, I surrender to his will as he buries another finger deep inside me, his groan overtaking any protest as his dexterous assaults push me closer to thebrink. Amid the frenzy, he mutes my moan with a searing kiss, his tongue dueling with mine with a ferocity that mirrors the wild pace of his fingers. My pussy convulses with each passing moment of orgasmic release, tightening desperately around his intrusions while my fingers grip the table so hard that every joint sings with strain.

“Perfetta,” he murmurs as he draws back slightly, his tongue softly trailing over my lower lip. His fingers begin a slow, tantalizing withdrawal, passing over every sensitized inch of my skin until he holds them up for me to see the undeniable evidence of my arousal. “Clean me up, little deer.”

He watches with a ravenous stare as I suck down his fingers. My tongue explores every curve and crevice, meticulously savoring and cleaning away the evidence of my orgasm. I thought it would be weird tasting myself, but I am pleasantly surprised at the sweetness of it.

When he pulls out of my mouth, I suck him the whole way until he’s free and then pull him closer so he can taste me on my lips. He runs his tongue over mine in an unhurried, yet insistent dance, tasting the remnants of my arousal. With a low, guttural growl, he deepens the kiss, his fingers cupping the back of my head firmly as his tongue plunges into my mouth, fervently reclaiming its territory in the heat of our shared desire.

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