Married to My Enemy

Giovanni laughed heartily. “You are so hot when you’re embarrassed. It’s adorable, really.”

“How am I supposed to put up with you?”

“Just keep doing what you did to me before we left the house. That’ll work for me.”

“Gio, stop it!” I said through an uncontrollable laugh that was steadily building up inside of me.

“Stop what?” he said, feigning innocence.

I was spared from having to answer him when our food arrived.

“Thank you,” I said to the waiter as he set my plate before me.

“Is there anything else I can get for you?”

“No, thank you,” Gio responded.

The waiter nodded and left our table.

“For the record,” Gio said, after we’d been eating in silence for a while, “I think this can work out fine. You and me.”

“Of course, you do,” I said. “You believe you’re God’s gift to women, don’t you?”

“No, but I do think it was a gift for me to get matched to you. At this point, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Luck was certainly in my favor.”

“Do you say that to all the girls?”

“Not at all.”

He stared at me from across the table again, and my body began to tingle. I started to think about the feel of his body, and suddenly desire almost suppressed my appetite. As I tried to focus on eating, I couldn’t help wondering if he could sense the direction of my thoughts based on the way he suddenly seemed unable to take his eyes off me.

I suppose it really could have been worse. My parents could have paired me with someone a lot less appealing, which made me feel that it was perhaps time to accept things the way they were. I had been paired with a handsome man with a decent family, who was just as attracted to me as I was to him. So maybe Giovanni Romano had a point—this could work out.

CHAPTER 13

Giovanni

I guess what they say is true—third time’s a charm.

Instead of going back to the Marino compound, Arianna and I went back to my apartment.

I wanted her so badly that it hurt. I pulled her to my bedroom, managing to remove all her clothes before I pushed her to my bed. I gave myself several seconds to admire her body, drinking in every single detail.

Her big breasts were every man’s dream. Her shaved pussy was just the way I liked them the best—pink, small, and extremely sensitive. Then there was her hips and ass that taunted me whenever she wore clothes that fit her too tightly.

“Touch yourself,” I told her, starting to undress. “I need to see you pleasure yourself.”

A gasp left her lips followed by a slight

blush. She separated her legs and supported herself with one hand while she let the other roam over her. I kicked my pants and boxers to the side when she rubbed her nipples, enjoying too much the way her pupils dilated when she saw me in all my naked glory.

I sat in the armchair across from her and stroked my cock, telling myself to be patient. Her hand landed on her sweet pussy, her fingers sliding through her puffy folds, and my heart beat faster. I wanted to devour her, touch her, own her. Her scent enveloped me, the sight of her bringing herself to orgasm urging me to slam into her and rip her apart.

Her movements quickened, her moans growing louder as she thrashed on my bed. She was completely lost in her pleasure, and my cock was going to fucking explode from just watching her.

“Finger yourself.”

She moved to her knees without even breaking our eye contact and brought her other hand to her mound. Rubbing her clit fast, she thrust a finger inside of her.