The Proposition

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Chapter Seventeen

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Alejandra’s POV.

I can’t move. I remain perfectly still as Dom casually strokes his finger up and down my pussy. His eyes are locked on the performer. My eyes are locked onto the side of his face.

How is he so calm right now?

Anyone who looked over would consider him perfectly composed and simply watching the opera. I feel like my palms are sweating and my heart is thumping in my ears. Excitement and the fear of being caught is sending adrenaline racing through my body.

He slowly nudges my thong to one side. I bite down on my bottom lip when his finger comes into contact with my sensitive flesh. He parts my lower lips with his finger, pushing it inside my soft folds.

I watch Dom’s face carefully. It is completely impassive; it gives nothing away. He pushes his finger inside me, and a small gasp leaves my lips. This time, he reacts. It’s only a tiny reaction, but his jaw clenches, hinting that he is holding himself back, straining himself in some way.

Slowly, without drawing any attention, he pumps his finger in and out of me. I grip his thigh and the armrest of my seat. My fingers dig into the plush velvet as I try not to react or make a sound.

I want nothing more than to hike up my dress, pull down his trousers and ride him in this very box. But I can’t do that, not without causing a scene. Instead, I remain expressionless and gripping the chair.

He speeds up his finger, being sure to keep his palm rubbing against my clit. He knows exactly what he is doing, building the pleasure for me. I clench around him repeatedly, telling him that he is getting me close to my climax.

He doesn’t stop. In fact, he speeds up and applies more pressure to my clit. Due to the amount of time he has been touching me and building this orgasm, I know it is going to be longer and more intense. My toes curl in my heels and my nails practically rip the fabric as my orgasm hits. I bite down so hard on my bottom lip that I worry that I will taste blood.

The pleasure is overwhelming. My vision blurs and the singer becomes a giant blob to me. I can barely focus on breathing as the wave after wave of pleasure ploughs through my body. And through it all, Dom continues moving his hand between my legs, his face a mask of complete deception.

When I finally stop coming, I inhale sharply and release my death grip on the chair. I flex my fingers to rid them of the cramp that onset as I squeezed so tightly. Finally, Dom turns to face me, a smile playing on his tempting lips. He leans close to me. A shiver runs through me as his lips brush my ear and his breath fans across me.

“How was that, gattina?” He murmurs darkly.

I narrow my eyes at him. “Pleasant.”

His lips twitch as he resists a smile. “Just pleasant?”

“Yes. It was average, really.”

I’m goading him and he knows it. He grins, enjoying the challenge. Dom turns back to the singer, as I do. We both remain unresponsive, pretending to be engaged with the performance. His hand returns under my dress again.

I’m tempted to touch him, also, but he won’t let me. When I reach for him, he grabs my hand and places it back on my thigh. He squeezes my wrist, a silent warning for me to keep my hand there.

He pushes my thong to one side and starts up again. Still sensitive from my orgasm, it takes barely any touching for me to be falling over the edge again. This time, my climax is hard and fast. I actually hear the chair creak under my strong hold.

It takes a bit longer than last time, but I manage to get my breathing to return to normal. I relax in the seat when Dom’s hand moves lower down my thigh. I thought he was giving my pussy a break, I thought he was done. But, a few moments later, he moves his hand back up and is circling my clit again.

He looks over at me and smirks. “One more, I think,” he comments huskily.

I lick my dry lips and swallow hard. My hand shakes as I reach for my glass of champagne on the table. I take a fortifying sip and brace myself for orgasm number three. As the singer’s song builds to a crescendo, so does my climax. I come as she hits the highest note, filling the theatre with her tune as I cover Dom’s fingers in my juices.

When I stop shaking with aftershocks, he pulls his pocket square from his jacket and wipes me up. It’s embarrassing, but I’d rather he do that than have a stained dress. He licks his fingers subtly, wipes his hand and shoves the square into his pocket.

“How was that, gattina?” He asks cockily.

I keep my eyes on the stage and clap as the singer bows to the audience. “The performance? Wonderful. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

The smile drops from Dom’s face, and he narrows his eyes at me. “I meant the orgasms and you know it, Alejandra.”

I turn to look at him, smiling coyly. “Alejandra? What happened to gattina? Did I annoy Domenico?”

He leans in and kisses me before I can react. I’m frozen with surprise for a second until I respond. My lips move against his, uncaring of any prying eyes. I don’t care who sees us, who watches us. My sole focus is on him. He pulls back and smirks at me. Damn him and that handsome face. The smirk only makes him sexier, not any less attractive.

“Tell me that I blew your mind and gattina might return.”

I snort and shake my head. “I don’t need to tell you something you already know, Dom.”

He grins. “It’s nice to hear once in a while, Ale,’ he replies, using his new nickname for me. “Besides, even men need recognition and compliments sometimes.”

Unable to resist his sweet smile, I concede. “They were...amazing. Thank you.”

“Mind-blowing?” He asks amusedly.

I roll my eyes. “Yes, mind-blowing.”

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We stay for the rest of the performance, watching like the rest of the audience...with our hands in appropriate places.

After the curtain falls, we get into the car and are taken back to Dom’s place. I’m sad that tonight is my last night but determined to make the most of it with him. I go up to my room when we get home and strip out of my dress. Dom comes in as I am hanging it up. I’m in nothing but my underwear and I look at him in surprise.

“Don’t you knock?”

He smirks and shakes his head. “Nope,” he responds playfully. “That would give you time to cover up and I’d miss out on a peak at your sexy body.”

I roll my eyes and close the doors of the walk-in wardrobe. When I turn around, he’s right in front of me. He has changed out of his formal wear and is in only a t-shirt and some joggers.

“I was wondering if you wanted to take a bath with me...” he suggests, grinning mischievously.

I pretend to think about it and put my arms around his neck. “Something tells me that you’re more interested in seeing me naked than getting clean, Mr Lencioni.”

His grin widens and he places his hands on my hips, drawing me closer to his body. “You know me too well, Miss Castillo,” he replies. “Come on, I’ll draw us a bath.”

I take off my make-up whilst Dom fills up the ginormous tub in his en suite. It could comfortably fit three people. An unwelcome image of Dom with two woman fills my mind and I push it away.

“That’s an awfully large tub, Mr Lencioni,” I muse casually as I watch him through the mirror. “Did you have it built on the chance you might not be bathing alone?”

He smirks and starts removing his clothes. “It was a hope, I’ll confess,” he says. “But I’ve yet to try it out.”

I try and hide my surprise, but it’s hopeless. I spin around to face him. “You’ve never had a bath with someone in here?”

He shrugs and gives me a funny look. “No...why is that so hard to believe?”

I shrug back and unsnap my bra. “I don’t know.”

I guess I have judged him a little. I made preconceptions about his promiscuity based off of his looks, actions, and title. He’s a Mafia Don, one hardly expects them to be celibate. Also, you wouldn’t expect a man who propositions you for a week of sex to be a virgin, either. Or I wouldn’t, at least.

Dom gets into the water first after testing the temperature. I strip out of my underwear and cautiously dip my hand in. It’s not too hot, so I slide in carefully. We sit with our legs interlocked, our backs resting on the high backs of the tub. For a while, we behave. We talk about Italy and wash ourselves with shower gel, managing to stick to our own bodies.

It all goes downhill when Dom suggests that he washes my back. I know exactly what he’s wanting and what he’s going to try, but I move onto his lap anyway. I turn my back to him and sit between his strong thighs. He starts washing my back, but inches closer to under my arms and suddenly, he’s cupping my breasts.

“That is not my back, Dom,” I murmur, but I break off in a moan when he pinches my nipples under the water.

“I know,” he replies huskily. “But I couldn’t resist.”

I let him massage and knead my breasts. When it gets too much, I turn around and kneel between his legs. I reach for his erect cock under the water and begin stroking him. In turn, he slides one hand lower, between my legs.

He rubs me as I stroke him. We give each other pleasure whilst feeling it ourselves. It’s an oddly intimate experience, especially with our faces so close and getting to see each other’s expressions change. We reach our climaxes quickly. I come first, crying out Dom’s name as my hips buck back and forth against his fingers.

My climax spurs him on. Dom holds my hips tightly as I pump my hand up and down his cock. His head falls back against the rim of the tub. His eyes close and his lips part. He gasps my name and thrusts into my hand.

I watch, enraptured, as his semen releases from his cock under the water and spurts upwards. It’s quite erotic to watch. Until it floats on the surface and moves towards me. I squeal and jump up, splashing the water and surprising Dom. His eyes shoot open, and he sits up.

“Your come is floating around the bath!” I tell him between laughs, pointing at the white stuff on the surface.

He rolls his eyes and stands up.

I guess that’s bath time over.

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