But he knew.
Vincent somehow knew.
He always knew.
“Lift up again. Just a little. That’s it.”
He reached below me and strummed his thumb against my clit. My orgasm was immediate and intense. But he pulled his hand away just as I started to crest. I hissed out a curse, and he laughed, his cock sliding deeper inside me.
“I told you that you didn’t get to come yet, you bad girl,” he said as he started to thrust his shaft in and out of my bottom. His strokes were smoother and easier now, but he wasn’t fully inside me yet. I could have cried at how good it felt. But I still wanted more.
For a while, we were both silent, awash in the sensations as he worked his way deeper inside me, our combined breathing and the soft thud of his hips meeting mine the only sounds in the room. He paused briefly.
“All fours, ’Cesca.”
I lifted myself up again. He didn’t move. I gasped as I somehow forced him deeper inside me. He slapped one cheek in appreciation.
Then he started to ride me again. This time, he held my hips, using me, going all the way inside me with every thrust. He reached forward to grab my hair and pulled it hard, forcing my back to arch. Then he used his other hand to fondle my breasts as they swung below me with every thrust.
“I wonder if you can come just from this, Frankie. Should we find out?”
He bit my shoulder. I wanted him to touch between my legs, but I knew now that he wouldn’t. It only made the ache more intense. And he was slowing down again, moving both hands to my nipples, tugging and pulling on them, rougher than he usually touched me, as he slowly plowed into my ass again and again.
I wasn’t going to come any time soon, if I could come at all. I realized he knew that. But he was enjoying drawing this out. He was enjoying torturing me.
I had a feeling he was punishing me, punishing me for making him wait all week, although that had been for his own good. He was still mad about it on some primal level.
So he was making me his bitch, in the most obvious way possible.
And this was his reward, after all. My ass was his prize, the wager that he had won that first day we played cards. I couldn’t fault him for enjoying it.
But then he surprised me.
“Reach for it, sweetie. You can do it,” he said, picking up the pace and tweaking my nipples even harder. And somehow, just like that, I started to feel close. Really close.
A wave swept through my body, longer and somehow deeper than any orgasm I’d ever had before. I felt my ass and my pussy both clenching, spasming, completely out of my control.
Vincent cursed behind me. I felt him pull out and spray his seed all over my lower back. That was considerate of him, I thought dazedly.
“Goddamn! I’m sorry, Frankie. You caught me by surprise.”
I didn’t know what to say. I was covered in his essence. Should I get up and take a shower? I couldn’t imagine moving. And I was still so turned on, I wanted him back inside me with a fierce need that took me by surprise.
What the hell had Vincent done to me, exactly?
“I think I need to . . .”
“Yes. Come on, love. Let me clean you up.”
He took my hand and kissed it, then led me into the shower. First, he washed my back. Then he turned me and kissed me for the longest time. I felt his erection jutting up against my belly.
“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart,” he murmured against my forehead.
“Proud?”
“You were nervous. But you really got into it.”
I laughed, my cheeks turning bright red. Getting into it was an understatement. Apparently, I took to anal sex like a duck to water.
“I liked it,” I said shyly.
“Good,” he said, chucking me under the chin. “Because I want to do that again.”
“Not today,” he added at my shocked expression. “Now let’s get you all cleaned up so I can make you messy again.”
“Vincent . . . you should be careful.”
“Look at me,” he said, pointing to the fading bruises and stitches that were nearly dissolved. “I’m right as rain.”
“Right as rain, duck to water . . .” I mused. “We are turning into a couple of grandparents.”
“I can’t wait to be a granddaddy with you,” he said solemnly. It was the sweetest, most romantic thing anyone had ever said to me. And somehow, I believed him.
I let him take me back to bed and claim another prize. He arranged me to his liking, teased me a while longer, and then took me at his leisure, making me come only when he wanted me to. When he allowed it. I didn’t argue that he’d only won that one hand. He was the man, after all.