Eva takes a huge bite of her pasta and groans. “Oh, Mrs. Bertini, your cooking is even better when it’s fresh from the stove.”
Ma beams with pride. “I appreciate that. I’ve always told Roman he can’t bring a woman home who eats like a rabbit.”
I want to warn Ma to watch what she says, but I know there’s no damn use. It’s best to just move on.
With that strategy, the rest of the evening passes by without any issues. It is really fun. Eva fits in so well with my family. Mysiblings all really seem to like her, and it’s not an easy feat to impress all four of them.
Ma can’t stop staring at Eva. I’m afraid of the interrogation I will likely receive tomorrow morning when she inevitably calls me and asks me to explain my relationship with Eva.
For tonight, I’m just going to enjoy bringing her back to my place and eating her for dessert.
The moment we step into my penthouse, I pin her against my door and kiss her.
I work my mouth down her neck, lost in her scent.
“Punish me,” she says on a breath.
My entire body freezes. I pull back to look at her. I need to see her face. “What did you just say to me?”
Her eyes flicker quickly as she watches me—a mix of boldness and vulnerability. “I want you to punish me the way you want to. In the way that made your eyes twinkle with delight in the conference room.”
“Eva,” I warn.
“It’s for me too,” she continues. “I want it. I want to know what it feels like to have the slap of your hand on my cheek.”
My hands twitch with need. There’s no use fighting it anymore, not with an admission like that. “Go into my room. I’ll be there in a minute.”
She disappears into my penthouse. I try to contain the excitement that courses through my veins. The need to have her is intense and slightly terrifying. I pour myself a shot of bourbon before I follow her.
The moment I step into my bedroom, it feels like I’m about to jump out of my skin with anticipation. She is sitting on my bed, waiting for me like a gift.
I’m suddenly nervous this isn’t really what she wants. “Eva, we don’t have to …”
“Tell me what to do, sir,” she purrs, each syllable laced with intention.
“Strip for me,” I command. “Slowly.”
I close the door and lean against it as I watch. She takes her time—each piece of clothing removed with delicate precision.
“Good girl.” I reach into my pants and adjust my growing cock. “Now, sit on the bed and open your legs. Show me that sweet pussy of yours.”
Her eyes move to my hand, which is still in my pants, as she sits back on the bed. She opens her legs. Her pussy is glistening, nearly dripping from her eagerness.
“Touch yourself.” I nearly choke on my words, my throat tight with anticipation.
The moment her fingers touch her clit my legs take me to her. I need a better view. I stop a foot or two before her, watching as her fingers circle her clit faster, her mouth hanging open.
“That’s it. Get yourself close.”
I move my hand along my dick as I watch. I let her get close—so close that I can see her pussy start to clench.
“Stop,” I growl. “Now.”
She pulls her hand away. Her chest is rising and falling rapidly.
“You don’t get to come yet. Get on your hands and knees.”
She obeys my command, her beautiful ass in the air at the edge of the bed. I close the space between us and let my hand run up her thigh, then up to her cheek and squeeze.