meet me.
You might think you do… after all, everyone does.
But the truth is, I am not a good man.
In my homeland, I am feared. My surname alone holds the power to evoke fear.
But in this city, I am still a shiny new star, and the darkness that follows my name has yet to cast a shadow over the landscape.
I am still revered and lusted after. My head for business astounds the corporate players who scramble to make my association, and my dark good looks attract attention and make panties wet.
I didn’t plan on taking New York by storm.
Didn’t plan on my business ventures becoming more successful beyond my wildest dreams.
Didn’t plan on becoming one of the richest men in town.
One of the most celebrated.
Because they aren’t the reasons I came here.
I came here for her.
The woman I have tried to forget.
The woman who would rather cut out her own heart and feed it to the dogs than love me again.
The woman I am obsessed with.
Her face swims before me.
Haunting me just as it has for the past ten years.
I grip the scotch tumbler in my hand as pleasure begins to uncoil in my stomach. With a growl, I reach for the hair of the girl with my cock in her mouth. She is kneeling before me, fucking me with her ruby-red lips and tongue, as I stare out at the glittering New York skyline with another woman on my mind.
She moans and it vibrates through me, sending another jolt of pleasure along my cock.
For months I have resisted the touch of a woman. But tonight, I need the kind of release that fucking my own hand won’t give me. Tonight, I need the touch of a woman to soothe my aching soul, even if it’s the wrong woman bringing me this pleasure.
Because tonight, everything has changed.
Because tonight, I touched her.
My fingers tighten in the girl’s hair and she gags as the swollen head hits the back of her throat. I take a sip of scotch from the tumbler in my other hand and close my eyes, allowing my mind to drift over the night’s events.
I had told myself to stay away. But she is my obsession and I have very little self-control when it comes to her. I’m addicted to her just as I am addicted to ruling my kingdom, and I need her as much as I need the oxygen in my lungs. I always have and I always will. I know that now.
I went to the gala because I knew she would be there. I hadn’t planned to get too close. I was only there to do what had become my one and only pastime since coming to New York eighteen months ago. To watch her. Then fantasize about her later when I was alone in my bed with my hand on my cock.
But tonight, the temptation was too much to bear. I am a strong man. I have the discipline few men can fathom. But she is my weakness and I couldn’t resist letting her see me.
Fuck, I had wanted her to see me.
And when I’d touched her, I knew I had to make her mine.
I groan. I’m close to coming. The girl whimpers eagerly and sucks harder, her tongue and lips massaging my cock. I grab the back of her head and start to fuck her mouth harder, thrusting, groaning, straining, my head swirling with images of Bella. With a growl, I rip my cock from her swollen lips and fist my release over her eager tongue, pumping and pumping until there is nothing left to give.
Bella.
My mind whispers her name, over and over, and for a moment time has stopped and I am back home in Italy, sharing my first and only kiss with the girl who had stolen my heart from the moment she’d taken her first breath.
I squeeze my eyes closed, and with another breath, I am back at the gala with Bella up against the wall, intoxicated by the sweet scent of her skin and the heat of her body wrapped around me like sunshine. My body pulses with pleasure as I float on the sweet, sweet memory of my only true love.
But as the veil of ecstasy slowly lifts, I crash back to reality with a stark coldness. Because Bella isn’t here, and it isn’t her kneeling in front of me with my cum on her tongue.
I shove my cock back into my boxer shorts and rezip my black pants.
Draining my