Page 95 of Massimo

Nova

Massimotoldmethatprior to the power outage and going to bed, Jerome had made us a meal for when I awoke, and had it on the warming plates on the dresser. My heart had squeezed at the thoughtfulness of the majordomo who I could picture as a kindly grandfather.

Right now, Massimo has the food tray balanced on the hard, grooved planes of his taut stomach. Slices of steak with herbed garlic butter and sauteed mushrooms. Double stuffed potatoes that have pieces of lobster mixed in are cut into large chunks. Sauteed vegetables that shouldn't be so good, but they're the most delicious side dish I've ever tasted.

Maybe because of the massive man I'm straddling, my pussy lips framing his pulsing iron length. And maybe because of the open expression on his face as he stares up at me—like he's in awe and worshipping a goddess.

Or maybe it's because I'm feeding him as he feeds me.

And he's brushing the melted butter over the tips of my nipples.

For years, eating was a source of fear, a tool my father used to control me. But with Massimo, that fear is being unraveled—unlearned—and replaced by something far more potent. An erotic experience that alters everything I thought I knew about myself.

I lean forward, the movement pressing me down on his rigid length, and push a piece of steak into his mouth. He closes his lips around my fingertip. Instead of chewing the meat, he swivels his tongue around myfinger, lapping and licking it, and the memory of him doing that between my legs assaults me.

I moan and rock against his erection, making pleasure spider out from the point of contact of our bodies. I pull my finger free from his mouth and brace my hands on his wide shoulders, nearly knocking the tray off as our gazes lock.

After he's finished chewing the meat, he swallows, the thick cords of his neck shifting with the movement. "Have you had enough?"

"I'm full. Now, I want to be full with you inside me."

A flicker of surprise coats his features, then he smiles—it looks happy and…proud. "I love when you're open with me and voice your wants and needs. Your desires." My fingers curl into his shoulder as he flexes his hips and his rigid length presses against my swollen clit. "Yes, princess, show me your claws. Unveil that little hellcat inside you."

It’s then that I realize my fingernails have dug into his shoulders, almost breaking through the skin.

"Harder. Deeper. Cut me, Nova. Make me bleed for you."

Massimo would never give this kind of control to someone, but his unguarded expression tells me he's doing just that. And that hewantsto give me control.

I dig my nails harder into his skin. A small 'popping' feeling tells me I've punctured his flesh. He doesn't hiss in pain, he doesn't grimace or wince. He stares up at me with stormy, dark eyes.

"More," he orders.

The warmth of blood coats my fingertips, and even though he's given me an order, I resist obeying and start to pull away. He grips my wrists to hold me there. The movement knocks the tray to the floor with a clatter, but neither of us looks away from the other.

"More, Nova."

My bottom lip quivers, and I bite it to make it stop. After what Massimo did to me, I should want my pound of flesh, and he's freely offering it to me. But I don't want it. Not his, at least. I want my father's.

"Everything you see here is yours to wield, princess…"

Massimo's darkness is staring back at me, but I'm not afraid, not anymore. I want to wield it,him,as a weapon.

"I don't want your blood; I want my father's."

"I'll destroy him," Massimo vows.

I close my eyes as a shudder wracks my body. Massimo isn't just unveiling the hellcat that's lived suppressed within me. That hellcat is vengeful and bloodthirsty, flexing her claws and ready to strike for revenge.

"We found one of your father's men that was sent here." Massimo sees into my soul as my walls are completely down. "I made him bleed, Nova. I made himscream. Becauseno one…" His hands tighten around my wrists, but I'm not scared. I'm falling headlong into the rapturous, depraved darkness he promises. "No one will take you from me."

A small whimper escapes me. It's not a sound of fear or sadness; it's a sound of need.

The room spins as Massimo manhandles me, and I'm suddenly on my back on the bed with him positioned between my legs. His cock throbs, like it has a heartbeat or is a war drum. My legs spread wider and wrap around his hips. With our size difference, my legs can't fully lock together around him, so I dig my heels into his ass to pull him closer.

He shifts, reaching to the bedside table, his eyes boring into mine, pinning me in place, then he presses his fingers to my mouth. "Open and swallow."

I realize it's the birth control pill—he must have gotten it from the package sometime while I slept and placed it on the bedside table.

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