More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
I bet he’s just as passionate in bed. I bet he likes to take charge. I bet he’s good at it.
Even though I was not thinking about them when I ejaculated into a handful of tissues at three-thirty in the morning. While gripping my throat…pretending it was his hand.
It’s combined with an undertone of laundry detergent, and the nostalgia of this smell makes me want to find this man’s bed and bury myself in his pillows.
I promise. I’m usually a kitten. But something about this arrogant prick brings out the mob in me.
“Sweetheart, I’m a long way from happy. But I’m gonna keep on drinking your wine for now.”
That thought sends energy zipping through my body, and something dangerously close to a chuckle rattles up from my chest. I don’t know why it feels so good to know he thinks so little of me.
I am a modern man, of course, and can well afford to hire a professional cook for me and whoever I end up with. But the idea of someone cooking for me because they enjoy it… Not because I’m wealthy. Not because it’s just one of their many endless chores. But because feeding the ones they love gives them satisfaction. It’s clear Portelli is that kind of man. Gruff, though not entirely unrefined, and caring.
He’s teasing me, and that definitely should not make my cock twitch or heat creep up my neck into my face.
I shake my head. “My home is meant to be lived in.” Joe tilts his head at me again, like maybe I’ve surprised him. I walk on eggshells all day long. I need at least one place where I can just be myself.
“Oh, look. A real, live boy,” I say, cracking a smile.
Like his arms. He doesn’t let them hang relaxed at his sides. Rather, he keeps them in a slight bend, like a bird with a damaged wing just waiting to heal. I bet he’d be beautiful in full flight.
He’s so close that I’d barely have to lean in to suck that impudent lower lip into my mouth. Picturing it is way too easy: I’d take a few seconds to savor its taste before attacking his entire mouth, grinding against him until he loses his pretense of control and melts against me. Yeah, I bet he’d like that a whole lot. I know I would.
His look of anticipation is so cute it’s annoying, but my nonna taught me to be a good guest. I take a careful sip and…shit, this is good. Damn good. “Well?” he asks, his eyes bright like a little kid’s.
I’m not a religious man, but God, do I want to worship at the altar of his ass.
“Hey, yo. Grayson, baby, ain’t nothing wrong with getting a little Brooklyn in you every once in a while, you feel me?”
I’d like to have a lot of Brooklyn in me, thank you very much.
Looking at me intently, letting me see the murder glint behind his eyes, he responds, “If he were going after you, I’d a killed him with my bare hands. And I wouldn’t a bothered with the niceties.”
“Come here,” he orders, opening his arms to me. I stumble forward, crashing into the hug, nearly sobbing with relief as his strong arms surround me. His lips brush my ear as he whispers, “You were never in any danger. He would’ve never touched you. I wouldn’t have allowed it.”
Huh. Unless the napkin’s covering a situation. A quick glance at Rand’s face tells me he’s still battling some kind of embarrassment, so I let my gaze fall to his lap again. Double huh. Maybe that’s just an unfortunate fold of the napkin, or perhaps having my hands on him got him a little riled up. Might hafta explore that a little. Probably shouldn’t.
“Shut up.” “Why? It was cute.” His eyebrows knit together. “No one’s called me cute since middle school.” “You know—you don’t have to hide the soft parts from me. I’m not your dad.”
“It’s meatloaf. It doesn’t matter what’s in it. You don’t get to pick at it. You don’t get to ask for special things. You just sit there and be a good boy and eat what I make for you.” Did I put a little bass in my voice at the end there? Yes. Yes, I did. Is it possible that I did it to see the pretty flush on his cheeks again? Hm, also yes. I usually go with my better judgment, but not tonight.
I release him and bite my lip when he yanks down his T-shirt. My breathing picks up as I fixate on his discomfort, and it makes me want to soothe and fuck him simultaneously.
I barely take a step before he yanks me back, one arm pinning my chest and another at my throat. “Don’t you dare tell me to fuck off,” he growls, his hard body a furnace against mine. “Not after everything I’ve sacrificed for you.” God, he feels so safe. “Get off me,” I grit out, twisting against him, unable to budge or escape the insistent hardness digging into my hip. “Let me go.”
“I let you go. Why are you still here?” I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. “What do you want, Rand? Why did you really come back here?” I gulp. “Answer the question,” he says, adding an authoritative edge to his voice that sends ice and fire down my spine. “Say it.” Jesus, I have got to get out of here. I turn to leave, but my feet stay anchored to the floor. “Say. It.” “I need you,” I whisper, eyes on the floor.
“Rand, look at me.” I swallow and blink up at him. “Good boy.”
I moan and suck at his fingers, licking between them, wanting every last drop. “Greedy.”
“I just wanted to imagine what you might look like with my cock shoved down your throat.” I moan and nod and undulate beneath him, my dick twitching hard. He looks down. “You like the sound of that, don’t you?”
“Does the big bad CEO like taking it up the ass?” Yes. Fuck yes. All of the yes. Please God, yes.
“Answer me, Rand,” he insists, tipping up my chin so I’m forced to make eye contact with him. Deeply embarrassed of my answer but compelled by the intensity of his eyes, I nod. “Use your words, Rand.” “I like it both ways, S-Sir. But, uh, mostly the way you just said.”
“Do these paid lovers of yours know how much it shames you that you need it so bad?” I turn my head to the side, mortified. “Turn over,” he commands. I bite my lip and slowly comply, afraid and needy as I hit my hands and knees. “Ah. Such a good boy for me.” I shiver.
Something cold and wet lands on my hole, and I scream into the pillow. Smack. I imagine the perfectly red handprint on my ass and nearly come right then and there.
“Good boy,” he says, rubbing my back like he knows I need the praise as much as the other.
“And thank you for making me feel better,” he continues. “That was kind of you. I’ll let you go back to your room for now.” My eyes grow big, and I look down at my painfully hard cock, then back up at him. A smug, knowing grin spreads across his face, and his answer shows no remorse. “You’ve already come once, greedy boy. I’m going to need you to leave that alone.”
Suddenly his hand is around my throat, fingers pressing into my pulse points just enough to remind me who’s in charge. Whispering into my ear, he growls, “No. You don’t.”
“Go to bed, little lamb.”
“Do it. I dare you. Do you know what I have not and will not sign? A fucking NDA.”
“Fuck, that is so embarrassing.” I know he’s telling the truth because he’s beginning to tent his pants. I do love this little kink of his.
“Now be a good pet and take off your pants for me.”
“The sooner you take care of me, the sooner I can take care of you. On your knees, billionaire.”
“Mm, that’s my good boy.”
“Baby, you have to be quiet.”
“Fuck, you’re so hungry for it. What a little slut you’ve turned out to be.”
“Good boy, keep going. I know you’re thirsty.”
My billionaire is strenuously objecting while he’s on his knees, bare, his face red and messy with drool, hair a complete mess.
“Were you a good boy last night? Did you keep your hands off your dick?”
“My ass doesn’t need this much prep.” “Well, it doesn’t belong to you, now does it?” I ask, smacking what’s mine.
“One of these days, you’re going to be the one ass up, and I’m going to get you back for all this.” “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” I toss back, grinning confidently.
“Spread ‘em wide, Rand. I need access to my hole.”
“Ooh, that’s my needy bitch. You need every inch of me you can get, don’t you?” He whimpers and spreads himself wider for me. “Tut, tut, Rand. Give me your words.”
I wrap one hand around his throat and the other around his desperate cock.
