Page 76 of Falling for Mr. October
“Please, God, let’s not talk about my brother. Honestly, Miles should have known better anyway. I always stole his Halloween candy.”
He laughs a little, then presses a kiss on my neck. “I want you too, dammit,” he whispers into my ear. “So bad.”
“We don’t have to talk this out, or figure out what it means. It doesn’t have to mean anything we don’t want it to.”
There’s a glimmer in his eye, gone before I can interpret it. He runs a hand over my butt, then squeezes it.
“You want to fuck me in this kitchen, Bianca?”
“Yes.”
In fact, that’s exactly what half of my fantasies have been about, with Giovanni frozen on my computer screen—and also splayed out in the bed on the other side of the wall between us.
“This is probably a bad idea,” he murmurs.
“A terrible one,” I say, already pushing my pants and underpants down.
He swears again as he dips his hand between my legs, then grunts with pleasure as he feels how wet I am for him, how completely lost to need.
“Get back on the counter,” he says.
“Not before I touch your dick.”
“You want to make sure it’s hard enough?” he asks, amusement dancing in his voice, as he slides his hand between my legs, finding the spot that makes me arc toward him. “Because it’s fucking hard enough to put a hole in the wall.”
“You’re better at the show-don’t-tell thing in your videos. I need proof, Giovanni.”
He takes my hand and places it over his straining sweatpants, and I suck in a breath at the feeling of him—big and hard and as gone for me as I am for him.
“You feel so good,” I say, running my fingers over him, learning the length and breadth of him. “Very hard. Almost as hard as those graham crackers.”
“That’s an insult to my dick,” he says with a small smile, because of course he knows I’m lying.
“But a compliment to your cooking.”
He presses a kiss to my neck, then a light bite. “I don’t have a condom.”
“There’s one in my pocket.”
Heat flashes in his eyes. “You put one in your pants pocket before you came down here?”
“I knew what I wanted.”
He practically growls as I lean over to grab it from my pants on the floor, and his hand wraps around my ass, caressing it, dipping in to feel my wetness.
“Oh my God, put this on,” I say, practically shoving the condom at him as I come to standing.
“No. I need to taste you.”
“You don’t have to. I’m—”
“I want to. You’ve thought about me shirtless. I’ve thought about burying my face between your thighs and eating your pussy until you scream my name and beg me to fuck you.”
“Giovanni,” I gasp.
No man’s ever spoken to me like that. No man’s ever made me want to beg him to fuck me. But I think he might.
“Will you do me that honor?” he asks.
