Page 53 of Of Desire And Deception

With his black jacket and boots, he looked more the picture of a biker than some of the motorcycle club members I’d gathered intel on. Only more dangerous.

“Ready?” Cosimo extended his hand, and I let him twine his fingers between mine as we walked to his car.

The ride to his home was relatively quiet. He didn’t seem to need the small talk most people felt obligated to share. At first, it was awkward, but I got lost in the classical music drifting through his speakers. His neighborhood was upscale, but in the dark, I couldn’t make much out other than the white color of his condo. He pulled into a garage and commanded me to wait for him to open my door.

I gasped when we entered his kitchen, and he flipped the light on. Everything was pristine white and smelled familiarly clean—only magnified. This was where that chemical cleaner smell that clung to Cosimo must have originated.

“Hungry?” he asked, opening the refrigerator and motioning to the assortment of food inside.

I shook my head, afraid to touch anything. “No, thanks.”

“A drink?” he added.

“Sure.” I might need the fortification if his expression was any hint.

He placed ice cubes in two glasses, poured tonic water and measures of Empress gin, then handed one to me. I thanked him and followed as he took the stairs to the upper level. Wood floors, white walls with very little art. There were some fake plants, but everything gave off a sterile vibe. It looked cleaner than a lot of medical facilities I’d been in.

I tossed the last of my drink back when Cosimo opened a door and waved me into what could only have been his bedroom. It smelled more like leather and everything that made him who he was. It looked like the man ironed his bedding, which was a silent warning if I’d ever seen one. Too clean. Too neat.

He was on me before I could back away, his large body pressed against mine and leading me backward as he plucked the empty glass from my hands. I heard it tap the nightstand before I fell back on the bed, gasping when Cosimo deftly worked the button and zipper on my jeans.

“I’ve waited too long to have you again,” he growled, yanking my shoes off and pulling my bottoms down until I was bare to his gaze. “Fuck, I’m starving. Feed me, goldilocks. You’re just what I need.”

He dove in, his broad shoulders wedging between my thighs before running the flat of his tongue up my center and teasing my clit. I whimpered at the sudden onslaught of pleasure, tipping my hips toward his mouth and spearing my fingers through his hair, moving him where I needed him.

“Fuck, yes,” I breathed. “Right there. Oh, fuck.”

The orgasm hit me hard and fast, my body trembling as he ate my pussy, lapping up my release. While I regained my senses, Cosimo stripped, folding his clothes neatly and setting them on a nearby chair before returning to me and divesting me of my vest and bra.

“You’re gorgeous,” he hummed, pulling the covers back and guiding me under them. He followed, flipping me onto my stomach and climbing on top, pinning me in place. I panicked, bucking my hips, but a large hand ringed my throat while he dropped his weight, forcing the air from my lungs. “Shh. Spread your legs for me. Let me in.”

His cock nudged my entrance when I’d calmed down enough to part my legs, and he allowed me a deep breath before surging in until I thought he’d break me. He didn’t cut my scream off, but chuckled before squeezing my throat again, making my vision of the pillows in front of me blur.

Could a cock literally destroy a pussy? Because Cosimo was no doubt pushing the bounds of what my body was capable of as he hit the end of my passage over and over. His grunts and the snap of his hips started a fire in me, and I fisted the covers, and the pleasure built.

“Beg for my come, goldilocks,” he grunted, releasing my throat.

“P-please,” I panted.

“Say my name when you beg, Wynn.”

“Please, Cosimo,” I whimpered. “Please come inside me.”

“That’s it, goldilocks.” His hands ran through my hair. “You’re going to come as I fill you. Take a breath for me now.”

I immediately sucked in a breath, then Cosimo shoved my face into the mattress. He fucked me almost violently, my face dragging against the covers. I could feel the barbells on the base of his cock just below my clit, stimulating the nerves there.

My pulse pounded in my head, and my lungs began to burn when I couldn’t draw breath. I clawed at the sheets, but still, he didn’t stop. Every sensation was heightened, even as I began to feel like I was floating.

“Now,” Cosimo barked, his sweat-coated body sliding against mine. “Come now.”

The panic, the pain, and the pleasure all culminated in the most intense orgasm in my life as he thrust a final time and stilled deep inside me. He released my head, turning it to the side and allowing me to breathe at last. His lips crashed sloppily on mine, his tongue trailing across my cheek and jaw as he pulled away and rolled us to our sides, his length still in me.

“You’re fucking damnation, do you know that?” Cosimo professed raggedly against my ear, biting the lobe and making me shiver as the cool air touched my damp, heated flesh. “And fuck if I wouldn’t let you drag me into the lake of fire if it meant another minute in your arms.”

It was sweet, in a deranged way. His heavy breaths slowed into the rhythm of sleep, and his cock slipped from my pussy. I pulled the covers over us and fought the urge to follow him into slumber, knowing this was my chance to get more intel.

The digital clock next to the bed counted the passing minutes, and when it read four in the morning, I carefully slipped from the bed, pulling Cosimo’s discarded black t-shirt over my head and finding the bathroom so I could clean up quickly. The man still slept soundly when I was finished, so I tiptoed out of the room and downstairs, willing my eyes to acclimate to the dim light offered by the windows. I began a methodical search of his house, going straight for the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. It was the only place that could hide anything.

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