Page 136 of The Silence Lies

And with that, I grip his thick shaft, running my tongue down his length. The soft skin slides against my tongue, my lips and mouth devouring his cock until he’s groaning for more.

His hand slaps the tiles behind me, his right leg shaking slightly. I commend the guy for holding back so much; it can’t be easy. But I’m not here to hold back. I want all of Giovanni, not just the bodyguard who’s hell bent on protecting me, but the guy that walked into my office a few days ago and kissed me like his life depended on it.

I take his cock in my mouth, my tongue running the underside of it as I pump him with my hand.

“Fuck, Principessa,” he groans above me.

I look up at him beneath hooded eyelids, my vision blurring from the desire coursing through me. The way he looks down at me, eyes full of his restrained desire, spurs me on. I take him deeper, pumping harder than before.

His fists clench against the wall, his eyes closing like it’s taking everything in him not to give into the pleasure.

I release him with a pop, earning another satisfactory moan from Giovanni. With my hands gripping his thighs, I look up at him. He shakes his head at me, forcing me to scowl harder. “Lose yourself.”

His green gaze hardens and his jaw feathers. It’s like he’s at war with himself, trying to decide what he wants more. I can categorically say that if he doesn’t want his dick sucked, then we won’t work.

“Is that what you want?” he asks, voice low. “You want me to fuck this pretty little mouth?”

His words twist a delightful knot in my stomach. Those dirty words take effect and all I want is for him to take control, take what he wants.

“Yes,” I rasp.

He tilts his head, running his thumb along my bottom lip again. “Open up.”

With those two words, I comply.

He tears my hands away from him, gripping my wrists in one hand while he cups the back of my head. Guiding my mouth towards the purple head of his dick, I open wide. He’s slow at first, almost tentative with the way he slides it into my mouth. But once my tongue twists around the head, he snaps his hips forward, his cock sinking further into my mouth. With each heavy drive of his hips, he lets out grunt after delicious grunt, making me moan in response.

My knees rub against the hard floor, but it doesn’t detract from the ache between my thighs. I take Giovanni in my mouth, letting him control this. In and out, he pumps harder, deeper. His grip on my wrists tighten, a bruising force that I know will ache tomorrow, but I don’t care. I’m so lost in this moment, where the fine line between us has been erased, that I can only think of one thing; Giovanni.

I relax my throat, his cock spearing it so hard that my eyes start to sting. His thrusts deepen, like he’s determined to reach the pit of my stomach. He probably could, and I’d let him. He holds me in place, his dick now blocking my airway until my vision starts to cloud. My lungs burn, fighting for oxygen, but I don’t want it to end. The sadistic part of me enjoys relinquishing control like this.

Suddenly, Giovanni pulls away, strings of saliva connecting me to the angry head of his cock.

I heave a loud inhale, the fresh oxygen blazing through my chest as I cough and sputter. He still has me pinned upright, his cock merely inches from my face, and all I can do is smile.

“Spit or swallow?” he asks, his tone gravelly.

I shrug, too afraid to think about talking, especially with the way he just tried to destroy my vocal chords. But Giovanni is looking at me for a real answer.

“What would you prefer?” My voice strains through the words.

Giovanni leans down, licking the seam of my lips. “I think I want you to swallow every last fucking drop.”

Before I can reply, he’s standing and shoving his cock back into my mouth, his thrusts already picking up a determined pace. It’s beautiful and seamless the way he moves; still gripping my wrists, still chasing his climax.

I look up at him. I want to see the way he falls apart. I want to watch him come undone while I do as I’m told. I want Giovanni to see that I’m on my knees for him because I want to be.

His thrusts start to slow, but he’s still determined with the way he punches his hips. It’s hard and deep, but slow enough for me to breathe through until he spears into me once more, holding my head so tightly that it isn’t until I feel the warmth spilling down my throat that I realize I’ve stopped breathing.

His green gaze is hard, commanding and yet filled with desire as his chest moves with each heavy breath. “Swallow, Principessa.”

And if that isn’t an order I want to submit to, I don’t know what is.

My throat constricts as I swallow his release, the thick cum sliding down seamlessly. When I’m done, he pulls away from me, dropping to his knees. There’s sadness in his eyes, a level of guilt there that I can’t quite comprehend.

Is it me?

Did we go too far too soon?

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