Page 25 of Bastard Prince
And now here I was, on my knees in a darkened backroom of a hotel conference center, ready to give an illicit blowjob to my husband...and he was worried about me.
It was sweet, truly, that he was taking into account my supposed oral virginity, but this was one instance where he didn’t need to fret; I was gonna blow his mind.
But I smiled and nodded, licking my lips and taking a deep breath for effect, and then I dove straight down, taking that thick shaft all the way to the back of my throat.
“Holy fuckin’ fuck!” His strangled shout would have made me laugh, if I’d been able. Tightening my lips, I drew back slowly, running my tongue over the vein on the underside of his cock and then swirling over the head before I descended again. Each time I went down and came back up, I replaced my lips with my hand, squeezing and swirling, making use of both my saliva and Enzo’s pre-come to lubricate my motions.
I settled into a rhythm, waiting until Enzo seemed comfortable, half-seated on the table behind him, one hand in my hair while he watched me work, and then I really went for it.
On my next down ward stroke, I let the tip of his cock nudge again against the back of my throat, then I kept going, swallowing past my gag reflex and taking him all the way into my throat. His fist clenched harder in my hair, the sting sending me into a spiral of pleasure, and I could feel myself getting wet at just the idea of how this was going to end.
“Francesca,” he groaned, his voice strained as I repeated the motion, swallowing repeatedly and allowing my throat muscles to do their job. When I was at the deepest point I could manage, I held there, raising one hand and bringing it to his balls, my fingers dancing along the seam and then farther back, tickling that tender spot that I knew would drive him wild.
Enzo did not disappoint, his cock kicking hard as I drew it out again, drawing in another deep breath.
“Jesus fuck, baby. I mean...fuck.”
I sensed he was close, his breathing rapid and his eyes wide as he watched me work, and that meant it was time. I went deep again, giving his sac a gentle squeeze before pulling off.
All the way off. And then standing.
For a moment, Enzo looked confused. He blinked at me, his mouth open as he huffed in huge lungfuls of air, and then he frowned.
“Francesca? What are you doing?”
“What’s wrong, Enzo,” I asked, smiling devilishly. “I thought you liked torture?”
“Huh?” he asked, clearly not yet remembering how he had left me exactly like this just yesterday. Then it dawned on him, and he dropped his head back, letting out a pained groan as he drew a hand down his face. “Oh, goddamn it. I should have known you’d make me pay.”
“You’re right,” I whispered, eyeing his still hard cock. “You should have.”
Enzo gazed at me, his smirk reappearing when he saw where I was looking.
“Seems to me like you’re only torturing yourself, babe.”
I bit my lip but didn’t answer. The truth was embarrassing and I wouldn’t say out loud just how much I wanted to continue.
“You don’t have to tell me,” he went on, almost reading my mind. “I can see it in your flushed cheeks. I can see it in the way you keep licking your lips. And the way your nipples are winking at me right now.”
He reached for me, and when he tugged, I went, loving the heat of him against my body again. I loved feeling him against me, the hardness of him, the roughness of him. Enzo Argenti was a dangerous man, and I wanted to live in that danger with him.
“You think that a half-finished blowjob—a half-finishedkillerblowjob, by the way—makes us even? Baby, you should know me better than that by now.” He ran one hand up my neck, his thumb gently rubbing along the line of my jaw. “I always win.” He kissed me then, hard and rough, his mouth claiming mine with every thrust of his tongue. Without warning, Enzo suddenly spun us so that I was once again the one leaned up against the table. “But in this case, a win for me is also a win for you.”
Trailing his fingers from my neck, Enzo teased along the low neckline of my dress, lightly caressing the curve of each breast. “Now, are you gonna let me see what you’ve been hiding under this sinful dress, or what?”
The look in his eyes was pure hunger, and I bit my lip and nodded, unable to form a coherent thought.
But of course, that wasn’t enough for Enzo.
“Francesca,” he snapped, one hand striking on the meat of my hip in a quick, sharp smack. “I asked you a question, baby.”
“Yes,” I moaned, the heat of his little spanking spreading across my body deliciously. “Yes, I want to show you.”
“Good girl,” he growled, tipping my body back so that I had to drop my hands behind me for support. The position left me splayed on the table, and Enzo moved his hand to my ankle where it stuck out of the slit in my dress. “What did you do, babe? Did you buy some sexy underwear just for me?” His fingers climbed higher, the part in my dress falling more and more open as his hand made its way up my thigh.
When I didn’t respond, he struck again, a quick light sting from his fingers, this time on the exposed flesh of my inner thigh, and I answered again.
“No.”
