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“What’s with the noise,” he said in his usual grumbled tone.
“Your lunch.”
He got up with lazy moves and dragged his ass to the table, pulling out a chair and sitting in it.
“I don’t do pie for lunch. I have better eating habits, Cat, and you should too.”
“Well, I was your first course,” I said with a hand on my hip and my eyebrows raised. “Spread open out on the highway, remember? Now eat your cobbler. Flora Maria is very proud of it.”
He didn’t respond, but he did dig in, and I sat in the chair next to him while nipping at my piece. Three bites in, and he was already halfway done with his slice.
“Good?” I asked, smiling.
“Baked goods are not my thing.” Of course not. “I like the vanilla ice cream though.”
I gaped and punched him in the shoulder.
“It’s gelato!”
The audacity he had to call the sweet and creamy gelato ice cream.
“I don’t see the difference, Cat.”
“You’ve been raised under this roof; you should see the difference.”
One of the corners of his mouth raised while he took another bite of his cobbler. He was messing with me, the jerk; of course, he knew the difference. I didn’t think I could remember ice cream ever being served in our house, but if he wanted a game, I was ready to play.
“So,” I said getting out of my chair, taking the plate in my hand and sitting my ass on the shiny surface of the sandalwood table, “any plans for today?”
Hugo looked at me with suspicion and raised an eyebrow.
“Nah, nothing today. Except keeping an eye on you.”
He was welcome to keep more than his eyes on me. The idea sent an electric tingling through my body. It had been a little over an hour since I screamed his name and scratched the leather seats of his car, but I was ready to drag him to bed again. Last night when he took me and made me lose my mind in pleasure, he flipped a switch. My body was alive; my curves seem more voluptuous, my moves more fluid, and I had this smoldering hunger in my stomach. Oh, not for food, no. For a man. For Hugo.
“I see.” I opened my legs slowly, making sure he could figure out I was bare under my robe. Hugo’s eyes slid down, and I felt the intensity in his gaze crushing into me. I wasn’t the only one going crazy with desire. The wolf was hungry too. To ensure his good view, I let one of my legs down, hanging off the edge of the table, and I raised my other knee. “How do you like your apple cobbler?”
Hugo took another piece of cobbler in his spoon and licked it clean.
“Not sweet enough,” he said right before aiming the spoon to my core and dragging it through the slit of my pussy. I was already dripping, so I was sure the bite was glazed in my juices. He took it to his lips and made everything disappear in one bite. “Much better.”
I gulped, swallowing down the awfully large knot that formed in my throat while watching him lick the spoon clean of every trace of me.
Wordlessly, I slid down the table and landed on my knees on our fabulous marble floor and snuck between his opened legs, starting to unbuckle his jeans. For the first time, Hugo didn’t try to resist me. He just leaned back in the chair and stood there like a king, looking down on me. There were a lot of reasons for him to feel just like a king. After all, the Nucci heiress, the princess of the underworld was at his feet, and my only thought was to please him. I wanted to make him crumble again and see that while I was kneeling in front of him, it was me who had the power. I was holding his pleasure at the tips of tongue. To prove my point, I reached into his briefs and pulled out his monster cock and took the tip between my lips. When I sucked him gently, he groaned and grabbed my shoulder with all his force. I knew he’d bruise me; I had his marks all over my body, and I was happy to have them. My monster didn’t speak with words; he spoke with brute force and the possession of a feral animal, and I’d seen them both when he touched me like that.
With my palms on his thighs, I started moving my head up and down, taking him in my mouth a little bit more every time. I took time to use my throat on him and didn’t choke on his thickness. When I went deep enough to feel the silver balls on the roof of my mouth, I moaned, and he did the same.
“Baby girl.” My name sounded like a prayer and a spell.
“You like that?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed me by the arm and pulled me up for a kiss. I crawled in his lap while he attacked my mouth with my legs hanging over his hips and my pussy right on top of his shaft.
“You’re an insatiable little siren,” he said then bit my lower lip enough to be painful. “When did that happened?”
I stopped dead and looked into his coal-colored eyes and their infinity. When did that happen?
“Remember that night when I tried to sneak into Gino’s night club? The one in Hell’s Kitchen with all those flowers hanging above the dance floor?” I was there when it was decorated. “You spotted me in the line, even if I tried to hide behind some friends, and you walked straight to me. For a second, I thought you didn’t see anyone else but me.”
