Page 26 of Captured Fantasy

“That’s it, come for me,” he growled, slamming into me one last time.

His cock went rock hard, sending a jolt of pain through my hips, and warmth blossomed as he emptied himself with a heavy groan. I slowed the pulses inside, letting them ebb away, and relaxed my body with a quiet sigh as he finished. He throbbed once and a quiet moan of satisfaction slipped from between his gritted teeth.

“Fuck, that was hot,” he panted.

In that moment, I was sorry I’d faked it with him. I closed my eyes and wished desperately I could be honest. But deep inside I knew that as much as he got off on my body, he wasn’t the sort of man who pleasured women like me. Years of having Gino fuck me without satisfaction had taught me that men wanted sex to be easy and straightforward.

I rolled onto my side facing away from him so he wouldn’t see the tears gathering on my lashes.

After he left, I laid on my back and slid my vibrator between my thighs. My brain flipped through all the usual scenarios that usually brought me to orgasm, but this time the only thing that came to mind was a scenario of being fucked on my stomach while I was limp and satisfied from an orgasm.

A hand tangled in my hair, a hard body drove into me, filling me perfectly with each thrust. In my mind, the man on top of me gave a heavy groan and his hand moved from my hair and gripped the sheets beside my head. There was a silver ring on his smallest finger.

I came in a hot rush, flipping onto my stomach so I could grind into the vibrator. I knew it was Federico’s cum that seeped from between my legs, but in that moment it belonged to another man.

CHAPTER SEVEN

LORENZA

The next weekend, I went to church in a daring sundress that clung to my curves and flared out around my knees. I didn’t go to confession, even though I’d had sex with Federico and masturbated every night before bed that week to the thought of Cosimo Barone. I felt like a sore thumb as I sat in the pew while everyone walked up to the alter for communion and I slipped out of the church before mass ended.

Federico had promised to send one of his men to pick me up, but there was no one at the curb. I lingered by the doors for a few minutes before giving up and calling a taxi even though I knew there would be hell to pay later. Outfit women didn’t ride around in taxis with strange men. Heaven forbid anyone see and think their men weren’t taking proper care of them.

The taxi driver dropped me off at the country club. I was almost two hours early so I walked through the enormous historic house to the locker rooms in the pool house where I kept an extra bag of clothes. I hadn’t been out to the country club in a while, but I found a black bikini and a matching wrap in my bag.

The pool was almost empty when I padded out, the pavement hot beneath my bare feet. Between the slats of the white fence surrounding the pool, I could see the golf course was dotted with a handful of men. Gino had spent a lot of time on the course before he fell ill, wasting time and smoking cigarettes with his friends.

“Can I get you anything, ma’am?”

I turned and almost bumped into the blond bartender making his rounds with a tray, picking up empty glasses.

“Jonathan,” I said, recognizing him. “You still work here?”

“Until I finish college,” he said. “It’s good to see you, Mrs. Russo. And I heard about Gino—I’m sorry.”

He wasn’t part of the outfit, although I suspected he had an idea who we were because most of the made men belonged to the club. I felt the same sickly, tempered smile that I plastered on every time someone expressed their condolences creep over my face.

“Thank you, Jonathan,” I said softly. “It means a lot.”

He shifted, flicking his shaggy, blond hair out of his eyes. “Can I get you anything to drink? Your usual?”

“Yes, please, and a blended lemonade. Thank you.” I smiled warmly and turned to pick a spot to set my things.

The breeze smelled like high summer, burnt and oppressively hot. I slid into the pool, leaning on the side so I could flick through my phone. Jonathan brought my Cosmo and lemonade and I sipped them both as I scrolled mindlessly.

There was an enormous splash from across the pool and I jumped, turning in the water. Cosimo Barone and another man I recognized as Mrs. Venetti’s college-aged son, Paolo, were bobbing in the deep end of the pool. They were both talking and laughing loudly and Cosimo had a football in his hand that he kept passing back and forth.

My stomach clenched and my heart beat fast in my chest. God, he was gorgeous. His shoulders were broad and the muscles that ridged his abdomen were dewy wet. The sun glinted off his arms as he drew back and threw the football in one powerful movement. Heat moved through my body like a live wire and I turned my back and fixed my eyes on my phone.

I couldn’t concentrate and my brief tranquility was ruined. All I could think of was his big, hard fingers pushing into me as I clenched around him. It was completely distracting, especially while I knew he was half naked and dripping wet behind me. I finished my drink in horny silence and pulled myself out of the pool, gathering my wrap and sunglasses in one hand and heading toward the locker room.

“Mrs. Russo.”

I turned and Jonathan jogged up to me, keeping his eyes politely on my face.

“Mrs. Calabretta is waiting for you in the dining room. She says it’s no hurry, she just got here a little early.”

“Thank you, Jonathan.” I smiled and padded toward the locker rooms and ran directly into a solid chest dripping with water.

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