Page 41 of Hard Lessons

And had she been remorseful? Not one ounce. In prison he’d imagined her begging for forgiveness on her first visit, her eyes pleading, her voice laced with regret.

But oh, no, Serena Ricci was totally unapologetic for her actions. He had no doubt she’d do the same thing again, even after the punishment.

He stood, clenching and unclenching his fists and stared at the door she’d gone through.

His cock was hard, so hard it ached. Having the woman of his dreams, the only lover he’d ever truly loved, practically naked and over his knee had his testosterone raging, not least because it had been a full year since he’d had any action.

What he wanted was to go in that room, spread her legs and fuck her... hard. Show her that she was still his. That he loved her more than life itself. That he’d make it all okay again between them. That’s why they were here. That’s why he was doing all of this. So they could go back to the way they were. Happy. In love. Passionate. They were the perfect couple, if you didn’t count the organized crime part of the equation.

He rubbed his cock over his jeans, willing it to go down.

There was no way he could get into bed with Serena and claim her. Not now.

The look on her face when she’d stood before him—her skin flushed, her nipples tight—assured him he’d get a slap around the face.

“And you’d deserve it,” he muttered, reaching for a cigarette. He sparked up then walked to the front door. He needed fresh air to go with his nicotine. A contradiction, he knew that, but it seemed to be a theme of the evening.

He bunched his shoulder against the jamb and stared out at the sea. The moon was glistening on its surface and for a moment he was unblinking, absorbing the wondrous sight. All he’d seen was gray walls, black bars, Sid’s ugly mug for the last year. The spread of celestial light on the water caught his breath and made his heart swell.

God, it was good to be a free man again.

He puffed on his cigarette, his cock showing no signs of abating.

He spotted a bat darting on the coastline, just at the top of the cliff, and concentrated on it, hoping his dick would cooperate.

It didn’t. And when he stubbed out his smoke, he had no choice but to release his fly and tug out his erection.

He began to work it fast; the sooner he came, the sooner he’d be able to go check on Serena. He didn’t trust himself to see her in bed, not with a raging hard-on. He’d likely do something they’d both regret.

He masturbated hard and efficiently. His balls tightened, the sound of friction, flesh on flesh, mixed with the constant rumble of the waves rubbing over sand and pebbles.

As was his usual go-to, he thought of Serena. Her spread out over the back of a sofa. Her pretty ass there for the taking. Her pussy wet for him. He could smell her all the more vividly now that her scent was once again fresh in his nose. He could taste her too.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

It took all of his willpower to stay on the outside of the cottage and not march back in and take the woman he loved with every scrap of his soul, but he did it. And soon he came, ropes of pearly cum landing on the gravel path.

He gritted his teeth, raised his face to the moon, and sent a silent prayer heavenward that next time he climaxed, it would be inside his woman’s sweet pussy.

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