The Italian Read online T.L. Swan

Categories Genre: Angst, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
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Enrico reaches up and grabs him around the throat, and he squeezes hard. The men and I all take a collective gasp as our eyes widen.

“If I see you look at Olivia like that again,” he sneers in a whisper. “I’m going to hang you by your feet.” He tightens his grip around his neck. “I’m going to cut your fucking throat and watch you bleed out. Do you understand?”

29

Olivia

“Enrico.” I gasp. “Calm down.”

He doesn’t calm. He keeps his grip around Sergio’s neck and tightens it even more.

“Let’s go inside,” I urge.

Enrico glares at Sergio. I’m not sure if he’s about to completely lose it and actually strangle him for real.

“Enrico,” I repeat. “Let’s go… now.” I rub his back as a silent reminder that I’m here. He pushes Sergio back, releasing him from his vise-like grip. “Get out of my sight. Go downtown and look after the club. You’re not to come to my home or be near Olivia again.”

Sergio drops his head, his face filled with shame.

“Do you understand me?” Enrico barks.

“Yes, sir.”

Enrico glares at him, and I know he isn’t finished with this conversation, but right now, I need to diffuse this situation. I grab his hand and pull him away.

“Come on.”

Enrico walks inside, and I close the door behind us. His jaw is clenched and he’s raging mad. I look around at the Lake Como house. It’s familiar, grand, and beautiful. It feels like a long time since we’ve been here.

He takes his suit jacket off, and then jerks his tie hard as he removes it. He throws them both to the side. I watch him knowing this isn’t about Sergio. There is something else going on, I can feel it.

“Don’t worry about Sergio. Don’t let him get to you,” I say softly.

He storms past me to the bar, and with a shaky hand, he pours himself a drink. He tips his head back and drains his glass only to refill it straight away.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

He drags his hand down his face.

“Baby, talk to me,” I urge him.

He takes me into his arms and holds me tight—so tight, I may snap. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t have to. He needs my comfort. I can feel that need pouring out of him.

“Just work things. It’s nothing for you to worry about,” he eventually murmurs.

I slowly slide my hand down over his broad chest as I kiss him slowly. His eyes close at the contact. “You’re home now, Rici,” I whisper against his lips. “It’s okay, baby. Forget work.” I slide my hand down lower and cup his penis through his pants. I feel it slowly begin to grow. “Let’s get you relaxed, shall we?”

His face softens as he returns my kiss.

I undo his suit pants and slide my hand down to cup his balls. They’re heavy, hard, and engorged. “Look how full you are,” I whisper up at him as I give him a long stroke. “No wonder you’re stressed.”

His lips take mine and I can feel his stress begin to evaporate.

I stroke him slowly as we kiss. His breath is quivering, and I know he’s already close to the edge.

His hands move to my shoulders and he pushes me down to my knees. I smile as he slides his pants down a little. His large cock hangs heavily between his legs.

Begging… no, demanding my attention.

With my eyes locked on his, I slowly lick the pre-ejaculate that drips from his end. Hmm. Tastes good.

He hisses in appreciation. “Yes, Olivia.” His hand moves to the back of my head to hold me in place as his instincts take over. He wants in my mouth.

He wants it all in my mouth.

He grabs his dick at the base and brushes his end over my parted lips. He’s taunting himself, watching his cock with dark eyes as it brushes over me.

I smile up at him. He motions to push himself into my mouth and I tighten my lips. “Not yet,” I whisper.

I begin to fist him hard and fast, and he inhales sharply as he watches on. He pushes on the back of my head. He wants in.

I lick up his thick shaft, and his eyes roll back in his head. This is the best part about giving head: the anticipation.

Putting him through hell until I decide when he can have it.

“What do you want, baby?” I whisper.

“Suck me.”

I run my lips over his end, and he grabs the back of my head. I push back and resist.

“Ol-iv-i-a,” he purrs.

I take just his tip in my mouth, and I flick my tongue back and forth. His head tips back and he moans.

I smile around him. God, I love this. I love bringing him undone.

Never have I felt more powerful than when I am on my knees in front of Enrico Ferrara. The world stops. There is nothing else but his cock and my mouth.


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