Chapter 8: Married With Malice: Chapter 7

Holy shit, that was fucking glorious. I couldn’t have scripted it any better.

Even though I left the room with a damn near unbearable case of blue balls that took some epic willpower to deflate, I’ll take the win.

I had her top off. I had her panties down. I had her clenching my finger so tight I wasn’t sure I’d ever get it back.

She said my name. No, she fucking moaned my name as she came hard enough to unravel.

Annalisa Barone, beneath all those withering glares and arctic attitude, is a girl who is craving rough use and tons of it. The problem with Anni is that she’s never been worshipped the right way.

I’m going to fix that. My little ice queen is getting thawed out and she’ll love every second.

The choice to get her off and leave her hanging was deliberate even if it did nearly kill me. I’ve done a lot of wild and hot shit in my life yet nothing prepared me for the sight of Annalisa flushed and trembling in my arms.

Just the beginning. Now that she’s had a taste she’ll be craving the whole menu.

Even better, Anni is highly competitive. She likes to have the last word, or at least she thinks she does. The second I left the room I’ll bet she started pacing the floor and cursing me out for the crime of making her come. To Anni, it’s an outrage that I saw her orgasm face and she didn’t get to see mine. That’s an imbalance she won’t be able to live with.

She’ll certainly get her chance for payback. I just hope she’s ready to have her brain chemistry altered. From now on if she’s able to get through an hour of her day without coveting my cock then I haven’t done my job.

It was a good idea to take off for twenty-four hours. Anni was still feeling prickly and I needed to give her some breathing room. Pushing her too hard wouldn’t get me where I wanted to be. The best option was to give her a break and let her come to terms with our new status by running an errand in Miami.

When Mugsy Santini heard I was going to be down here he asked if I had time to take a day trip. Richie already gave his blessing for the meeting.

Mugsy and Richie go way back to their boyhood days when their fathers were capos under the same boss. Now Mugsy owns a midlevel oceanfront motel. I got to know him when I was down here for law school. He loves Richie like a brother and he likes to reminisce. He’s also looking to retire and leave the states so he wanted to get an opinion on whether Richie has any interest in buying him out. Richie might be willing to do a good turn for an old friend and he definitely won’t pass up the opportunity to add to his vast collection of real estate. Spending the night on the property gave me time to make a few shrewd assessments. Some cosmetic renovations to compete with the higher end places would justify significantly jacking up the overnight rate.

Before I left, I assured Mugsy I’d consult with Richie once back in New York and work on putting together a fair offer. Richie will trust my judgement. Adding an oceanfront Florida hotel to the family portfolio is bound to serve our interests in more ways than one.

It’s hilarious that Anni assumed I ran off to show my cock to random club girls. The thought never crossed my mind and I’m delighted to know that she was actually jealous. She has no reason to be. There’s only one place my cock wants to go and it’s inside my wife.

And now that we’ve had that little bathroom icebreaker it is SO FUCKING ON tonight. I meant what I told her. Nothing is off limits. She’s mine now.

The smile that spreads across my face has nothing to do with the glass of vintage whiskey in my hand but George O’Neil thinks otherwise and stretches his dry lips into a grin.

“Packs a bite, doesn’t it?”

I swirl the contents of the glass around and act like I’m thinking. “Thought I detected a hint of cherry.”

I’m so full of shit it’s a wonder I can talk. One of my forgettable college girlfriends aspired to be a professional sommelier and used to drag me around to events where people were always saying things like ‘Thought I detected a hint of cherry’. They were full of shit too.

But George is impressed. “Good palette you’ve got. They don’t make this Kentucky brand anymore. I’m lucky that I was able to score a case at auction.”

For the last hour George has been towing me along for a tour of the Key Bay Resort. He saved his pride and joy, the extensive underground wine cellar, for last. The place seems as vast as the Paris catacombs, which I got to see the summer between college graduation and law school. Cale bankrolled the trip and practically drop kicked me onto the plane for a month long European tour. He joined Richie’s crew right out of high school but he really wanted me to see something of the world in the hopes I’d be inspired to stay far away from a mafia fate.

Things didn’t work out that way. It’s the one thing that truly eats at me, knowing my brother blames himself for this no matter what I say.

The thick wooden shelves are filled with carefully labelled bottles reaching nearly to the ceiling. Though liquor values aren’t my specialty, George clearly has a penchant for rare varieties. I’d casually guess there’s at least a few million in value stored down here. “Must have taken you a long time to amass this stockpile. It’s practically a national treasure.”

George scans the enormous room. I’ve already looked up his history so I know he’s turning sixty next year. He tries to hide the years with cosmetic interventions that stretch his skin to the shiny breaking point.

“I started with a few dozen bottles inherited from my father thirty years ago,” he says. “It’s become a passion over the years.”

Nothing in George’s bio explained his connection to Albie Barone. But he’s from an old Chicago political family so it’s likely he’s got more corruption than blood running through his veins. My theory is that he needed a sordid favor at some point in the past. The Barone family business is a whole other tangled net to unravel and I haven’t even tackled that project yet.

At least George seems like an affable guy, eager to be friendly. He’s given us the VIP treatment here. When I asked him to keep an eye out for Anni while I was gone he was happy to post a pair of bodyguards outside the building all night.

Moving closer to the nearest shelf, I check out a French label with the year 1972. “You ever think about splitting up the collection so it’s not so vulnerable all in one place?”

While George considers the question, it’s tough to tell what he’s thinking. His face is so packed with Botox it just doesn’t move a whole lot. “My lawyer said the same thing.” He shrugs. “It feels like a sin to split up the family.”

“You should listen to your lawyer. And get a separate policy with a different carrier.” As soon I’m finished talking I realize I sound like a pompous jerk. I shouldn’t give out advice when he didn’t ask for any.

But George doesn’t mind. He raises his glass. “Your father-in-law said you were a sharp kid. He was right.”

I suppose it’s nice to know that I’ve got the approval of old Albie. Maybe he can relay that sentiment to his stubborn daughter.

George urges me to pick out a bottle as a surprise for my new bride. Rather than risk selecting some antique worth fifty grand, I ask George to choose one for me.

Once George starts talking it’s not easy to get him to stop. But at least I learn a few things about the tourism industry of south Florida and that will come in handy when I pitch Mugsy’s request to Richie.

Eventually George has other things to do besides be my tour guide so he walks me back to the main building. Late October isn’t a busy season here and the staff at the front desk look a little bored, although they do perk up and try to appear busy when the boss strolls into view.

A dark-haired young woman wearing the tailored khaki and navy blue uniform of the resort staff eyes me from the front desk. She breaks into a pretty smile when our eyes meet. The only reason why I look twice is because she reminds me of Anni.

Speaking of my wife, I assume she’s still brooding in our suite. I don’t want to interrupt. I like the way we left things earlier, with her still panting after she came so hard she vibrated. Afterwards, she couldn’t even speak. Anni needs to marinate in her feelings for a while before she figures out what she wants. In the meantime, I’ll be waiting.

Before he takes off, George reminds me of our dinner plans later. He says he and his wife are looking forward to meeting Annalisa. I tell him the feeling is mutual, although there’s no guarantee Anni will actually behave herself. Or even show up.

This doesn’t bother me. In fact I’m enjoying the uncertainty. Annalisa Barone is a lot of things but she’s never boring.

Within the main building there’s also a large café with dim lighting and tons of polished dark wood. Decorating the walls are framed black and white photos of Florida’s pre-tourism scenery and Ernest Hemingway.

One of the screens over the bar is showing the Dukes hockey game so I take a seat and order a pint of Guinness. My standard choice, it was my father’s favorite. The only reason I know anything about what my father liked to drink is because Cale has a good memory. My own memories of my parents are few and far between. The ones I do have are so fuzzy I’m not sure if they’re real or based on things I’ve imagined from my brother’s many stories.

However, I like to picture my father hanging out with the rest of the boys from his firehouse and downing a pint. Maybe playing some darts, cheering on the Dukes. And then taking off early to go home to his family. He always seemed like a giant to me. When he carried me on his broad shoulders, as he often did, it felt like I was sitting atop a mountain.

The night he died isn’t one I remember, nor do I remember being told that there was too much damage to his lungs after he battled a chemical fire. I do remember Cale holding my hand at the funeral, just as I remember Cale holding me on his lap months later as I wailed inconsolably the morning our mother lost her fight with cancer.

My parents used to call me their ‘miracle prince’. I don’t remember that either but I wish I did. Cale knows of at least one miscarriage in the nine years between us and he thinks they’d given up on having another child when I decided to surprise everyone.

The bartender slides my glass over. When he moves out of the way, the mirror on the opposite wall shows my reflection. Cale and I both take after our father, although Cale likes to say that I’m the only one who inherited our dad’s magnetic personality.

There’s no way to know if that’s true, especially because my brother thinks I’m a much better man than I really am. In any case, I raise the heavy glass at the man in the mirror who looks like my father.

Up on the screen, the Dukes score another goal. The score is three to one with half a period left. Football was always my favorite sport but hockey came in a close second. I learned to skate by trailing after Cale and played in youth leagues until the end of high school.

It’s been ages since I’ve been out on the ice. When I try to remember how long, all I can picture is Annalisa, gliding with graceful speed and a crazy happy look on her face. It’s a shame she gave that up.

The bartender fills a bowl with a fresh batch of pretzels and I grab a handful before they’re contaminated by someone else’s hands.

As the game ends with a Dukes victory, I’m tempted to text Anni and ask her to come down for a drink. There are still hours left before dinner and I’m impatient to see her again. Unlike the sexually charged atmosphere of our shared suite, this is a neutral zone.

Maybe I was too smug earlier. I should have mentioned that while I was in Miami I couldn’t wait to get back here to her. She wouldn’t have believed me but I should have said it anyway.

After ordering another beer, I spot a familiar looking couple seated across the room at a table. I spend a few minutes scoping them out while chewing on pretzels and then I carry my beer over to say hello.

Their body language broadcasts that they’re the sociable sort and I’m not surprised by how easy it is to chat them up and take a seat at their table. This has never been a problem, approaching people out of the blue and finding something to talk about.

The reason they’re familiar is because Anni was watching them down at the beach this afternoon.

The first thing I did when I returned was seek her out. I found her alone on the beach, staring at a couple getting frisky in the water.

While Anni was preoccupied with the scene, I stood back at a comfortable distance and watched her. Even from twenty yards away I saw how she ogled the couple while they were fooling around in the surf.

Apparently she likes watching.

As it happens, I like watching too.

Anni squirmed and pressed her knees together, an epic sign that she was getting turned on. When she started to gather her belongings like she was planning to leave, I took off to await her arrival in our room.

Anyway, these two are a very chatty pair. She owns a boutique in Asheville and he’s a realtor. I can’t exactly share my real job title. I tell them I’m a Manhattan corporate litigator and they nod with friendly, vacant smiles. They’re celebrating their second anniversary and when they hear I’m on my honeymoon they nearly vault out of their chairs and applaud.

An hour later, I’ve learned far more about them than I was interested in learning and I’m glad when they run off to their room for a twilight fuck party. They didn’t explicitly share their plans but she’d been discreetly massaging his dick with her bare foot for the last fifteen minutes so I drew some conclusions.

There’s still some time before dinner and I take a leisurely stroll on the stretch of boardwalk parallel to the beach. The ocean looks a little choppy tonight but the sky is clear and the stars wink into view one by one.

At ten minutes to eight I start heading over to the Green Room. George and Belinda are already waiting at a center table. George is surprised that my wife isn’t with me.

“She’ll be along in a few minutes.” I take a seat and shake out a linen napkin.

I think there’s a good chance this is true, although there’s no telling what Anni will look like when she does appear. It’s adorable the way she thinks she can shock me. Maybe she’ll try again. I won’t even mind if she breaks out that deranged costume she wore to our wedding. She can be my bad witch if she wants. We can play that game all night.

Belinda Doyle no longer has the bright orange hair from her eighties album covers. She’s moved on to a stately silver bob and she’s chosen to age naturally as opposed to her husband’s obvious surgical intervention. George hails a waiter and tells him to bring out shrimp cocktail and escargot to start with.

“Any food allergies?” he asks me. “I should have checked with you first.”

I shake my head. “None at all.”

“What about your wife?”

Shit. I have no idea. If I admit that I’m clueless about my wife’s food allergies then eyebrows will be raised. It seems like something a man ought to know about the woman he just married.

The Barones used to take vacations with us sometimes and I don’t remember anyone raising the red flag on food allergies. All I recall about mealtimes is that Sabrina cut her food into little tiny pieces because she almost choked on a breadstick once. As for Anni, she always tried to sit far away from me because of that one time I played a dumb prank and shook some pepper on her dessert. I hope she’s forgotten about that.

While I’m struggling with an answer to George’s question, I look up and there she is. She stands by the concierge podium in a wine-colored dress that rolls off her shoulders and clings to her body. The dress is delightfully short. Her dark brown hair hangs long and loose. She went to some trouble with her makeup and though I still prefer her fresh-faced and natural, I appreciate the sultry effect of her painted lips and dramatically lined eyes.

I wouldn’t say that I start drooling because no one really does that but my cock twitches and I can’t look away.

Anni slowly walks over with all the confidence of a beautiful woman who knows there are a lot of eyes fastened to her. When I stand up to greet her I’m so clumsy that my chair nearly falls over. There’s a fleeting smirk of amusement on her full lips.

“My wife, Annalisa.” I pull her chair out. The pride in my voice isn’t fake. It’s impossible to feel anything but lucky right now.

Anni has decided to be charming. She smiles at George and Belinda. She doesn’t smack my hand away from her chair and call me an asshole, not even when I push my luck and casually graze my palm over her tight ass. No panties. She took my advice. What a good girl.

Now I’m bummed that we haven’t even been served appetizers yet. I’m ready to bypass the whole dinner and be alone with my wife.

Anni has spent a lot more time in high end circles than I have so she knows about things like French wine. She praises George on his selection for the table and he flushes with pleasure. Her wedding ring glitters on her left hand as she raises the glass to her sexy lips.

For a second I’m rocked by a sudden feverish wish for things to be completely different between me and Annalisa, like she’s this fascinating girl I just met and I’m instantly consumed with winning her over. There are no mafia entanglements, no arranged marriage pressure, none of the baggage we’ve collected over the years. Just the two of us.

The thought disappears just as quickly. There’s no point in wishing for the impossible.

Belinda wants to hear more about Anni’s figure skating past, especially when she learns that Anni once used one of her songs in a competition routine.

“Junior regional championships,” Anni says. “I’ve always had a strong affinity for eighties ballads and I skated my long program to Hard Luck. Came in second place but the song choice wasn’t to blame. I wobbled on two of my jumps.”

Belinda is thrilled. “Do you have a clip of the performance? I’d love to see it.”

“So would I,” I say. I would. I really would.

But maybe it was a bad idea to pipe up and remind Anni of my existence. A shadow falls over her face and she refuses to glance my way.

However, she manages to pull off a smile for Belinda. “I’ll see if I can find one.”

Belinda sips her wine. “And do you still skate?”

“Not competitively,” says Anni. “But I give lessons at a nearby local rink. Or at least I did until recently.”

Huh. I didn’t know that. Anni left NYU before finishing and I never heard anything about her holding down a job for very long. I was under the impression she traveled whenever the mood struck her and went shopping a lot.

She orders the dry-aged ribeye and rolls her eyes when she hears me order the same thing. I wasn’t copying her. I’m just a big red meat fan. I don’t know how my brother deals with being a vegetarian. He didn’t used to be. When he married Sadie he cheerfully changed his eating habits to match hers.

Twice during dinner people approach the table and ask for Belinda’s autograph. She’s very gracious about the interruptions and even poses for photos when they ask.

Toward the end of the main course, George starts having trouble with his insulin pump. Belinda is immediately concerned. She insists that they need to return home and call the doctor. They live on the property in a converted multi-suite space that was customized for them.

George doesn’t argue with his wife but he insists we stay here and enjoy dessert.

“Please give your father my regards,” he says to Anni and I wonder if she also hears the nervous quaver in his voice. Albie Barone is the kind of man who is feared even by his friends.

George and Belinda depart with their arms around each other.

The instant they are out of sight, Anni makes a point of moving her chair two feet away farther away from mine.

“Nineteen years,” I say, and inch my chair closer, chasing her.

She drinks her wine and gives no sign she heard me speak. I watch the column of her throat as she swallows. My mind goes straight to the gutter. I can give her far better things to swallow.

“That’s how long they’ve been married,” I say as if she asked what I was talking about. “Belinda was touring, though it was years after the heyday of her career and the venues were all small. For weeks George had been sending her gardenia bouquets. I don’t need to tell you why. Wouldn’t you agree that Gardenia Castle is her most famous song? Pretty sure I heard it in a tire commercial last month. Anyway, it took a month of steady gardenia deliveries before Belinda agreed to have dinner. George met her in Vegas and took her for a ride in his plane. He’d had a pilot’s license for years and knew what he was doing. However, while they were up in the air there was a mechanical problem and he ended up making an emergency landing in the desert. I guess the whole debacle was a bonding exercise because two weeks later they were married.”

Anni is no longer drinking her wine. She’s staring at me. Judging by her expression, you’d think the words falling out of my mouth are spoken in ancient Sanskrit.

Since I’m done eating, I take my napkin from my lap and set it on my plate. “Do you care if I finish off the wine?” I pour the rest of the bottle into my glass, figuring she won’t give an answer either way.

A manicured hand waves from somewhere in the back of the restaurant. When I focus on the source, I see that my new friends have decided to dine here tonight. They are now both waving. I wave back at them.

Anni turns to see who has my attention and her head whips back around. “How do you know them?” she hisses.

“Evan and Elsie? We’re friends.”

“Really? When did you meet?”

“About three hours ago. Wait, I’ll call them over and introduce you.”

She swats my hand down when I start to raise it in the air. “Stop it.”

“Why? They’re nice people. And you seemed pretty interested in them this afternoon.”

Her mouth falls open. “You were spying on me!” She says this like I’ve been caught peeping in the bushes with a pair of binoculars.

“I was innocently looking for my wife. And there you were, lounging on a beach for everyone to see.”

“That doesn’t mean you can, um…” She sputters and fades, hearing how ridiculous she sounds. This has quickly become my new favorite hobby, getting her so flustered she can’t speak.

“Anni, I like watching you. You like being watched. I thought we figured that out already.” I rub my middle finger, the same finger that went exploring in a really thrilling place earlier, across my jaw to remind her what happened in the bathroom.

She’s reminded all right. Her eyes widen and she freezes in place. I’m unsure if she’s getting wet or contemplating murder. There’s still a steak knife on her plate. The mood will be spoiled if I’m forced to stop her from stabbing me in the heart.

But after a few deep breaths she regains her composure. The wary glint returns to her eyes. “What do you want from me, Luca?”

We’re too far apart for this important conversation. I push my chair closer. And then closer still. My knee bumps into hers. I slide my arm across the back of her chair to make the situation even more intimate.

“I want to finish what we started, Annalisa. On your terms. Tonight is all yours. You call the shots. So the real question is, what do you want?”

She doesn’t scream. She doesn’t jerk her chair away. She doesn’t unleash a flood of curses. She appears to be thoughtfully considering the question.

Then she rises from her chair and calmly proceeds to the exit without so much as a sexy over-the-shoulder glance.

Okay. I’ll just have to assume she wants me to follow her.

Though George insisted that the meal was on the house, I pluck a few hundreds out of my wallet to leave on the table as a tip for the wait staff.

Anni can move fast in her heels. She’s already turned the corner. I spot her on the other side of a huge tropical atrium, heading for the tall glass doors that open to the boardwalk.

She’s disappeared through the doors by the time I make it over there.

Outside, the salt-scented breeze has picked up a little and there are more stars overhead. To the left, the pier is all lit up and to the right the private beach is dark. A handful of other resort guests are taking an evening stroll or stargazing at the boardwalk railing but I barely spare them a glance.

I thought I’d find Anni walking in the direction of our suite.

Nope, she’s walking the other way.

She bypasses the pier and keeps marching.

It’s no hardship to follow closely behind and enjoy the view. Her long bare legs are perfectly toned and each sexy sway of her hips gets my pulse racing. I can easily picture myself bending her over, rudely pushing that dress out of the way and committing a full scale invasion.

These thoughts are so pleasant and distracting that I hardly realize how the scenery is changing.

The pier has been left behind and we’re approaching the massive lagoon-sized swimming pool. I doubt she’s interested in taking a swim but I guess anything is possible.

“Anni.”

She keeps walking.

“Annalisa.”

She stops. The rising moon is full. When Anni turns around, the sight of her face stirs an emotion I’ve never felt before. It’s primitive and possessive and leaves me with the certainty that I’d fall at this girl’s feet.

How can I not kiss her?

My right arm snakes around her waist and my left hand tangles in her hair. There’s no resistance from her when I claim her mouth. A needy sound leaves her throat and she hooks her arms over my shoulders the instant we connect.

I’m not satisfied with going slow and my tongue slides through her lips, tasting the sweetness of the dinner wine. Kissing her is so addictive. I doubt I’ll ever be able to live without it.

No word has yet been invented that describes the way I need her right now. My arms tighten around her, crushing her body against mine on purpose so she can feel exactly what she does to me. We’re out in the open and my hands are roaming in places they shouldn’t roam in public.

My heart pounds, my cock is steel and I hate disconnecting from her for even a second but this needs to be said. “Come on, honey. I’m taking you to bed.”

When I try to tug her along, she shakes free of my grip and raises her chin. Familiar stubbornness shines in her eyes.

“Not yet,” she says.

I’m almost panting. My boner will probably break through my zipper if I try to walk.

But Anni strolls over to the pool gate and pushes it open. She looks back to make sure I’m coming. Of course I am, massive boner and all.

A sign hung on the fence warns there’s no lifeguard on duty and we should proceed at our own risk. A solitary night swimmer cuts through the lap lane with patient backstrokes but the area is otherwise empty.

A row of boxy curtained bungalows borders the far side of the pool. Anni slips her heels off and abandons them before scampering to the most distant bungalow. The mix of poolside ambient lighting and the shimmery moonbeams from the sky are more than enough to see by.

The lap swimmer has emerged from the pool and pauses by a lounge chair to collect a towel before padding to the exit gate.

Anni moves the bungalow curtains and steps inside. The interior is the size of a large walk-in closet. A deep sofa and a narrow table sit in the middle. Beyond the tall pool fence sits a quiet section of beach. The back curtains are open to reveal the clear sky and gentle waves.

I can’t think of a more romantic setting and I’m not easily impressed by romantic scenery.

Anni stares out at the water. “Remember when you said that I could have anything I want?”

“Anything.” I stand behind her and sweep her hair to the side. The zipper on the back of her dress isn’t tough to find. I start easing it down one inch at a time. “All I keep thinking about is the look on your face when you came.” The zipper is halfway down and I bend to kiss the back of her neck. “I can’t wait to watch you come again. Just tell me how you want me to get you there.”

She whirls around. “What I want,” she says as she tugs on my belt. “Is for you to stop running your fucking mouth, Luca. You ruin everything by talking too much.”

With exciting speed, she unbuckles my belt and opens my pants.

Won’t hear a word out of me. Hell, I’ll sew my lips shut if that makes her happy.

Shedding my blazer in a flash, I toss it away and loosen my tie.

But what she does next catches me totally off guard. Anni flashes a charming grin of triumph and drops to her knees.

YES, TO HER MOTHERFUCKING KNEES!

Without missing a beat, this girl takes me in her mouth and I forget who I am and what planet I’m standing on.

But I don’t say a word. Sure, I let out an ungodly moan at the feel of her soft lips on my cock but I’m sure I can be forgiven.

What makes the scene even wilder is that I quickly get the impression she hasn’t been in this position whole lot. This matches what I saw from her earlier when she shyly blushed in front of the mirror and covered her pretty tits.

Even if Anni knew every pose in a dirty deck of cards by heart I’d want her just as much. It doesn’t matter to me. But I also can’t deny the contrast between her sharp tongue and her innocence is unbelievably sexy.

She’s mine to teach, mine to corrupt, mine to conquer.

Gritting my teeth with the effort not to come too soon, I’m gentle about threading my fingers through her soft hair and urging the right rhythm. I’m also grateful for the full moon, glad that she had the presence of mind to open the back curtains and let in the silvery light. It might kill me if I couldn’t see her like this.

Just when my best efforts are failing and I’m in danger of pitching into oblivion, Anni takes her mouth away.

I can’t help making a growl of protest but I don’t have time to dwell on the outrage for long because she jumps to her feet and pushes me backwards.

This is a good opportunity for her. I’m dazed enough that she could probably push me straight into the ocean if she wanted.

She settles for pushing me to the sofa. I can’t wait to see what she does next.

Anni stands over me, hesitating, a little nervous. I’m fucking dying to be inside of her and if I need to help the process along then I will. She has no complaints when I run my hands over her hips and down her thighs. It’s easy to push her dress up. Higher. And just a little higher.

Her breath catches and I nudge her legs apart with my knee. She sinks down until she’s straddling me.

Keeping in mind that I’m a big guy, I’m cautious as I guide my swollen cock, sliding in slowly, careful not to hurt her.

The feel of her body is fucking exquisite. If I wasn’t already so close to shattering I’d find a way to savor it for a while.

But I am close and there will be plenty of time, tonight and every other night, to take my time with her.

As I get deeper, she shudders and throws her head back. Her hands land on my shoulders. My palms encase her hips.

Now would be the time when I might say a lot of dirty words to suit the mood but I don’t want to give her a reminder that she hates the sound of my voice.

I don’t feel the same way about her voice. I’m really hoping she cries out my name again when she comes.

Anni quickly gets the hang of riding me. Fighting the mounting pressure to release, I end up mentally reciting the intricacies of New York state contract law that are still imbedded in my brain after studying for the bar exam last year.

She’s talented, moving like she was born to fuck me. Within a minute she’s biting her lower lip and making little whimpering noises. Her muscles clench around my cock. Her movements reach a fever pitch. Watching the climax shake her to the core is magnificent.

“Oh fuck.” She rides harder, losing control.

That’s it, baby. Say it. Tell the world who you belong to now.

“Luca. FUCK!”

She falls apart in my arms and it’s beautiful. I need to have more of her.

The low neckline of her dress gets pushed down. Her tits are sweet and small enough to fit in the palm of my hand. They feel good in my mouth.

I’ve never known a girl who could come so hard and for so long. The need must have been building inside of her for ages. I’m going to unleash this power every chance I get. I’m obsessed.

But I can’t hold back any longer. She’s still trembling and lets out a little yelp as I roll her to her back on the sofa.

I’m taking my turn now.

Hooking her knee inside my elbow, my thrusts become downright savage. She reaches under my shirt and the feel of her nails on my back just drives me wilder. Nothing can compete with the thrill of taking her bare.

Pausing, I raise up on my arms to see her face. If she wants me out, now’s the time. Another few seconds and it’ll be too late.

Anni’s slight pout tells me she dislikes the interruption. She tightens her knees around my hips, pulling me back. I’m ready to give her exactly what she wants.

What comes next isn’t an orgasm. An orgasm is what you have when you casually jerk off during your morning shower right before you drag a razor over your jaw. This is a fucking cosmic explosion that shakes the foundations of my soul loose.

Every other woman becomes nothing, now and forever. Not one of them will ever be her equal.

When I finally drift back to earth my balls have been emptied with such ferocity it’s a wonder I haven’t turned inside out. Yet I don’t want to risk crushing Anni under my weight.

We’re both panting in the aftermath. I’ve barely rolled off her before she leaves the sofa and starts putting her dress back together. She faces away and keeps her head down.

The air feels heavy with words that should be spoken.

If she hadn’t warned me that I need to shut up then I’d come up with something meaningful to tell her. I’ve never been so worried about saying the wrong thing.

“We should go,” she says, still not looking at me. “I think the pool closes soon.”

She zips up her own dress. That’s okay. I’ll be unzipping it again soon enough.

Anni steps through the curtains while I’m still pushing my dick back into my pants. I find her collecting the shoes she abandoned by the pool. She hugs them to her chest as we walk back to our room.

Her hair is lifted by the soft breeze and her face is angelic in the moonlight. The urge to put my arm around her is overpowering.

But when my fingertips brush her shoulder, she flinches and gives me a funny look. I pull my hand back.

Anni’s silence feels different than usual. It’s possible that she’s just shellshocked after getting her world rocked to its core. A few times she glances over, almost surprised to find me walking beside her.

She waits while I open the door to our suite. Her shoes get dropped on the floor before she walks to the balcony, pausing in front of the glass doors.

I toss my suit jacket and tie on the sofa and shed my shirt as well before closing in behind her.

Her dress is still partially unzipped. My fingers fix that within seconds, sliding the zipper all the way down. From there it’s just a quick flick of my wrists to drop the dress to the floor. She lets out a shaky breath but doesn’t object when I turn her around.

I take her face in my hands and brush my lips over hers, tasting, teasing. Her hands tentatively touch my shoulders and she dissolves into the kiss. My cock spikes to life, ready for another round of newlywed excitement.

I’m dismayed when she pulls away suddenly. I sure hope the last half hour wasn’t too good to be true.

“Can I ask you something?” she says and her tone is almost timid.

She can ask me for the whole world. I’ll find a way to give it to her.

“Sure.”

She worries at her lip for a few seconds. “Was it really your father’s tux that I burned?”

Right now Annalisa is more tender and vulnerable than I’ve ever seen her. If I answer yes, she’s bound to feel bad. Whatever delicate truce we’re sharing might be fractured.

“No,” I tell her and fall to my knees, hooking her leg over my shoulder and getting to work.

It’s the last word I say for quite a while.

There are far better uses for my tongue.