“Ren? Did you hear me?”
Elio’s voice pierced through my reverie. Charlotte had been circling my head all morning, probably because she’d promptly passed out as soon as we’d gone upstairs last night and left me with a raging hard-on. She’d reached into my barren chest in the kitchen and taken my withered heart in her perfect small hand…and then blithely went on to eat eggs and forget about it.
But I hadn’t forgotten it. Not by a long shot.
“Yes, I heard you. Commissioner Reynolds wants to meet. Why?”
“He didn’t say.”
“I’m not extending his credit again. He’s already in the hole for nearly a hundred grand.” I pinched the point that ached between my eyes.
Rich, powerful men like the police commissioner were the bane of my existence. They were too influential to waste by killing off, but they were fucking leeches the rest of the time.
“Do you want me to tell him that? Or just bar him from playing until he pays some off?”
“Bar him. I don’t have time for this. He thinks he can make demands? When he knows full well that I have more than enough evidence on his police department skimming? Bar him and keep him out of my sight. Let him sweat.”
Elio raised an eyebrow but otherwise didn’t comment. I needed Commissioner Reynolds more than ever lately, with Detectives Vane and Whitely sticking their noses where they didn’t belong, but I’d had enough of the guy. Plus, every word that was said in my office was going straight to the nosey detectives’ ears, thanks to the bug they’d had Charlie plant. Let them take that piece of info to their boss and see how it went.
“Giada also found this,” Elio continued and placed a photo in front of me.
It was Commissioner Reynolds, and the slimy, suited Castillo who’d walked into my warehouse a week ago. The one the dead guy from the woods had named. Juan Castillo. The posture of the man, and the amount of security that surrounded him, confirmed my suspicions. This was the head of the Castillos, and he’d been right under my nose the entire time. I should’ve cared more about that than I did right then. But I was distracted, and the reason was asleep in my bed.
Work was tedious beyond belief today, and every second I devoted to work felt like time that I could’ve spent fantasizing about my wife.
My wife.
Was she awake yet? I checked my watch and stood.
She’d slept enough, and it was time she did something about the ache in my balls.
She was still asleep. Burrowed under the covers, only the trailing length of her brown hair visible when I entered the room. The curtains were still drawn, and I closed and locked the door behind me, anticipation roaring in my veins. After just one taste, and I was already hopelessly addicted to being inside this woman. It was a compulsion. I wasn’t even going to try to fight it.
I watched her sleep for a moment, sinking into the armchair on her side of the bed. She shifted toward me, as if her body naturally gravitated in my direction, even in sleep.
She was wearing the silky camisole I’d picked out for her. It gaped at the cleavage, and I could see a hint of one dusky nipple. I’d never shopped for or with a woman before. I had no interest in it. But my wife was a different story. After a lifetime of cheap, secondhand clothes, she deserved spoiling, and I was just the man to do it.
Besides, I liked the thought of her wearing clothes I’d bought for her. I liked that there was a small part of me she’d carry with her all day. Soon, I hoped there would be a much larger part.
The De Sanctis family doctor had reassured me that conception could occur pretty much as soon as the implant had been removed. I planned on being very diligent about keeping Charlotte’s tight cunt stuffed full of cum so whenever her body was ready, she could easily get pregnant. The compulsion to breed my wife had little to do with producing an heir or pleasing Zio Salvatore, if I was brutally honest with myself. I just wanted a part of me to live inside this woman, tying us together forever.
She stirred slightly when I undressed, making no move to be quiet. My bambina had really tired herself out yesterday unpacking all her new clothes and getting wasted with Giada. I had to talk to Elio’s sister. Drinking wasn’t good for an expectant mother, though technically, Charlotte wasn’t pregnant yet, and it had been good to get behind her defenses and see inside her head.
She didn’t hate me nearly as much as she pretended to.
I could work with that.
I stripped everything off and searched for the box I’d had delivered along with everything else. Charlotte had hidden it right at the back of her walk-in closet. I took what I wanted from it and headed back out to the bedroom. Next, I tied her wrists and ankles to the bedposts. She was so pliable and trusting in her sleep.
I will always keep you safe, anima mia, from everyone but myself.
She woke just as I fit the ball gag in her mouth. Her eyes widened as she tested the bonds and attempted to speak. Her gaze roamed around the darkened room, wild and panicked for a moment, before they met mine. The panic and fear in her eyes melted away when she saw me. It was a moment I knew I’d never forget.
She trusted me. Despite lying to me and hiding bugs for the police, my little nurse trusted me.
“Shh, don’t worry, bambina, we’re just catching up on what I planned to do to you last night, before you passed out.”
Her eyes widened again. She was remembering last night. She swallowed, and the sight of her neck moving was beautiful.
“Are you hungover?” I wondered.
She nodded a little.
“Do you want me to make you feel better?”
Her pupils were blown with want, her body already responding to the very idea. I’d suspected she would like being tied up since that night in the bathroom at the benefit. I tapped the ball gag.
“This is because I know how much you like having something in your mouth,” I murmured.
She flushed bright red, but nothing in her expression disagreed with me.
I headed to the end of the bed and picked up one of the toys I’d brought with me, then positioned myself between her legs.
She strained to look down at me, curious, panicked, embarrassed. I couldn’t keep up with the emotions chasing across her beautiful face.
I turned on the toy, and the low hum filled the room. Lowering it to her pussy, I moved along her side so I could suck her pretty tits while she got wet for me.
She jerked as the vibrator touched her. She still had on her nightgown, but it was thin and didn’t seem to diminish her sensation. I lowered my mouth to her nipple, hard and poking through the lace covering, and bit down lightly on it, working her clit with the toy.
She moaned past the gag, her gaze glued to me as I used my teeth to pull the silky straps of the camisole off her shoulders and expose one tit at a time. Her nipples were darkened hard points when I rolled them between my lips, sucking, biting, and licking circles around them. Her hips bucked against the vibrator, seeking more friction. I worshipped her tits until her skin turned pink and her nipples were puffy. She rose toward a climax, just from the tit play and the toy alone. I kissed her hard when she came, moaning around the gag and convulsing in the silk ties.
I turned off the toy and tossed it aside, moving down her body. Her slip was going to be tricky to take off, so I reached for one of the slender knives I kept in my drawer. There were similar knives all around the house. You never knew when someone might get past all the security measures in place at Casa Nera, and in that case, a knife could be the difference between life and death.
She watched me carefully as I cut the top of her nightgown, the material parting easily beneath the blade, and then ripped it down the center and spread it open. She was bare before me, tied and vulnerable, and breathtaking.
Setting the knife aside, I couldn’t wait one more second to taste her. I leaned down and lapped at her wet pussy. She was soaked from coming already, and as I slipped three fingers inside her, her cunt gripped my hand like it wanted to suck the whole thing inside. Reaching for the toy again, I flipped it in my hand and wet it liberally in her juices, sliding it inside her.
She groaned, thrashing as much as she could against me. I leaned in and sucked on her clit. She wasn’t going to last long; her chest flushed pink, her hips already stuttering, but I wasn’t stopping. I dove into her pussy with my tongue, circling her clit like a man possessed, fucking her with the toy. As she rose and rose, I flicked the vibration back on, and she exploded on my face. A jet of liquid hit me, and she screamed around the ball gag.
“Fuck, yes, bambina, soak me through with your cum,” I rasped, my lips pressed to her pussy before tonguing her clit more, making her convulse against me and squirt more of her pleasure on herself. I looked up at her face and drank in her expression.
Tears had run tracks down her cheeks, her eyes bright and hazy at the same time. She panted and stared at me like I really was her chosen God. I stowed away that look of reverence inside the cold, dark recesses of my heart to treasure.
“Good girl, Charlotte. See how well you come for me, bambina. But we aren’t finished yet,” I told her.
Her breath hitched as I settled myself between her legs. Her thighs, and the bed around us, were wet with her cum, and it was fucking glorious.
I wanted to bathe in it, fuck in it, live covered in it. Proof that my quest to make this woman as obsessed with me as I was with her, was working.
I pushed inside her, my aching dick, not able to take one more second of torture. She was slick and hot and so tight it was hard to push in. Once I was in all the way, I reached for the strap around her lips and tugged it off. Her mouth was red and swollen. She whimpered as I licked the tears from her cheeks and then kissed her.
I lost myself in that moment, kissing this woman who had stolen my heart when I’d thought it had forgotten how to beat. I kissed her and fucked her until she came again, tightening around me like a vise, and then I followed, pumping cum into her, marking her insides with my best intentions, hoping that my seed would stick and root deep.
When I slid free on a rush of white, my fingers were there, pushing it back inside her hole. My thumb circled her clit, and she cried out. “I can’t come again, I just can’t,” she panted desperately.
The way her beautiful, tearstained eyes pleaded with me was a fucking turn-on.
“You beg so prettily, anima mia,” I told her, pressing my white, slick fingers inside her while fingering her clit. “But I promised to show you what proper fucking was, and I’m a relentless teacher.”
I leaned in and kissed her when she came again, muffling her scream. My breath was in her mouth, my fingers in her cunt, and my name in her heart, right where I wanted it to be.
