She struggled to put it on, unfamiliar with the little clasps and the garter belt. Somehow, her naiveté made the whole thing more delicious.
When she lay back on the bed to admire herself in the white lingerie, it occurred to me that it was probably her bridal trousseau.
Wicked satisfaction sluiced through me. I loved that I was sullying the virginal set by watching her try it on first, by thinking lusty thoughts too dark for such an innocent girl’s head.
What would she do if she knew a grown man was palming his hard cock while watching her? How would she blush and gasp and writhe in embarrassment?
Liliana moved her hands with increasing confidence over her lace-clad body, so I was prepared when she slid her fingers under the edge of her panties and started to touch herself again. Her head fell back between her shoulder, thick black hair streaming behind her, mouth open to the ceiling.
I wanted to grip that hair, slot my angry red dick between those open lips. My jeans were unbuttoned and unzipped in a flash. Then, my hand was fisted over my flesh, tugging hard.
I wanted to come with her.
Needed to.
Her slim hips began to gyrate as she pleasured herself, her chest heaving and thighs shaking.
When she came, she cried out weakly, like a plea for more even as she hit her climax. Soon, it’d be my name on her lips.
I spilled across my hand, cursing as I came so hard the base of my spine tingled almost painfully.
We both sat panting as we recovered. I cleaned myself up with an old handkerchief embroidered with an ‘A’ for Amato and tucked myself away. Just as I brought my abandoned glass of grappa to my lips, Liliana stirred on the bed and stood.
I paused, glass suspended, waiting to see what else she had in store for me. She moved to her balcony and lifted her hands to close the doors on her bedroom. Only, before she stepped behind the veiled glass doors, I caught sight of the grin on her mouth, slyly curved and feminine with secrecy.
I slingshotted upright, leaning forward with narrowed eyes as pure Liliana Vitali lifted her gaze to mine across the street separating us and broke into a full-blown smile before she disappeared behind closed doors.
Maybe Liliana wouldn’t prove to be so dull or easy after all.
My spent dick twitched at the thought.
Game on.
CHAPTER TWO
Lily
Tommaso Bruno had mushroom hair that reminded me of a misshapen penis head. Excluding porn, it was the closest thing to a real dick I’d seen in my life, wet bangs curtaining the perimeter of his head on all sides.
He’d probably shown up to La Cucina Della Nonna with a head full of gel, but I’d arrived late. On purpose. Much to the displeasure of Tommaso, who had stood outside in the rain, drenched and flanked by two hulking Bruno enforcers.
“Liliana.” He leaned forward to kiss me, frown deepening when he caught my cheek. “You’re late.”
Up until this second, I’d held out hope that meeting Tommaso Bruno would spark something within me. Butterflies, maybe? Even a single butterfly would do.
But nope.
Nothing.
The tall build, clear blue eyes, and classically handsome face did absolutely nothing for me.
“My apologies.” I didn’t bother with an explanation, only flattening my palms over my dress, which was long enough to make a nun proud.
Beneath it, I wore one of the wedding lingerie sets I’d tried on the other night. When I’d sensed someone spying on me. It happened often enough that toying with the made men sent to gather intel on my family had become a sport.
My lips curved in a smile, which I covered by nodding my head at Thing One and Thing Two. “Will they be dining with us? Papà only made reservations for two.”
Tommaso ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back until it no longer curtained his face. “Lasciami.”
His enforcers left at his order. We entered the restaurant together. I offered a polite smile to the hostess. She was pretty, so it surprised me when she didn’t catch Tommaso’s eye.
He had a reputation for sleeping his way through Sicily. I was hoping he’d continue that hobby, so he wouldn’t expect anything from me. I’d never been one to attract luck.
“It’s perfect weather for yachting, no?”
It’s raining, idiota.
“Sure.” I slid into the booth, not giving him the space to sit beside me.
He took the seat across, picked up our menus, and handed them to the waitress after she placed a basket