Page 64 of The Bonventi Secret
"I think so. I've had to always read the room, so to say, for business and whatnot. My brothers tell me I try to control too much and make conclusions about people, but," he says, taking a sip, "it's saved our asses on more than one occasion, so there's that."
"And what were your conclusions about me when we first met?"
He laughs.
"That's an interesting question."
"Why is that?"
"Well," he says, leaning forward and taking my hand, "When I first meet people, I'm pretty good at figuring them out, you know, placing them in this box and almost expecting their actions. You, you were much different."
"Well, I am different than most."
He shakes his head. "When I first met you, I had a different mentality about all this. Make no mistake about it, though, I thought you were beautiful. I mean, look at you, cara mia," he says, caressing my hand. "Not just now, but even on your worst day, you'd be the muse Michelangelo would use to build a statue of Venus."
I feel my face get warm, and now without a doubt, I'm blushing.
"Wow, Enzo, quite the compliment. Goddess of beauty, huh? How much wine have you had?"
He laughs and squeezes my hand. "You know she was also the goddess of sex, and the way that's been, maybe you're not the muse, but Venus herself."
I smile and laugh, reaching for my glass.
"Maybe… Maybe," I say. I mean, if someone's going to call me a goddess, I'm going to take it.
We talk for some time, and I start to feel the effects of the wine.
"This is pretty good," I say, holding up my glass.
"Yes, that's why I got two bottles. Here," he says, pointing to my glass, "finish that, and I'll give you more."
"Are you trying to get me drunk, Mr. Bonventi?" I say, laughing.
"I think you may already be," he says, smiling, "But that's okay. Once you eat, you'll sober up, so enjoy it now."
I hold out my glass as he pours. "I don't see anything wrong with that way of thinking," I say, taking another sip.
My head feels a little light. My body is relaxed as the warmth from the alcohol settles in. I look over at Enzo and suddenly see him differently. I notice how his eyes capture the flicker of the candle on the table, how the soft glow of the light makes him look divine. The way his muscles push against the fabric of his shirt.
He's fucking perfect.
He looks absolutely delicious, and I want to taste him now. I look around the room just to double-check that we're alone.
I slide underneath the table, and I hear Enzo ask, "Livia, what are you?—"
He goes quiet when I reach out and start rubbing his cock through his pants. He doesn't protest. He doesn't try to stop me or pull me out from under the table; instead, he spreads his legs, allowing me access.
I grab his belt and undo it, then unbutton his pants. I slowly, as if to tease him, slide his zipper down. I pull out his cock and begin stroking. It's so big in my hands, and I slide up and down his shaft, feeling his warmth.
I lean forward and gently lick the head of his cock, tasting the saltiness of his precum. I wrap my lips around his tip, swirling my tongue around the sensitive head. Enzo's hand finds the back of my head, his fingers tangling in my hair. He doesn't push or pull, just rests his hand there.
I slide him into my mouth a little further, and my tongue dances along the underside of his cock. I can feel him tense up. I take him deeper, inch by inch, until he hits the back of my throat. I swallow, the muscles of my throat contracting around him, and he lets out a low groan.
As I move up and down his shaft, I can feel the veins pulsing beneath my tongue and taste the saltiness of his precum flowing into my mouth. Enzo's grip on my hair tightens, his breath coming in short, sharp pants. I can feel his thighs tensing beneath my hands, and I can hear the soft rustle of his clothes as he shifts in his seat, trying to contain his oncoming orgasm.
I suck harder, sliding up and down, using my hand to stroke what my mouth can't reach. He lets out a low growl, and I know he's close.
"I'm going to come, cara mia," he says, breathless.
