Letters to the Baumgarters (12 page)

“Come here.” He grabbed my ass, yanking me across him, positioning my
pussy over his face and wrapping his arms around my hips. I whimpered but gave
in to what he wanted, his tongue burying itself in my flesh, fucking my hole in
and out, like a tiny cock. It was such a tease and I moaned around the fleshy
thrust of the real thing in my mouth, aching for it to fill me.

“I want you,” I begged, yanking his pants and boxers down his thighs for
better access. I wrapped him in my fist, my tongue working down toward his
balls, breathing in the pungent, masculine scent of him. “Oh god, I want your
cock in me.”

“Nuh-uh,” he panted, taking a breath. “Not until you come.”

“Again?” I squeaked in protest when his tongue found my clit, nudging it
back and forth.

“At least twice.”

I groaned, pressing my forehead against the meat of his thigh, his tongue
dancing delightfully through the slick folds of my flesh. I stroked him
absently in my hand, feeling precum building at the tip of his cock, too lost
in sensation to do much else. When he made his tongue flat, pulsing it against
my clit, I squeezed him so hard the head turned from red to purple above my
fist, my breath coming so fast I could barely keep up.

“Mason! Baby!” I cried, biting at the soft flesh of his thigh. “Oh god
I’m gonna come!”

He just grunted his encouragement, his tongue moving faster between my
legs, his whole face buried between them. My climax shook me violently, the bed
vibrating beneath us as I bucked on top of him, half sitting, forgetting
entirely about his cock, my hands clenched into fists on his belly as I mashed
the flesh of my pussy against his face, drowning him in sticky sweetness.

“Oh fuck.” He nibbled at my pussy and thighs, breathing hard. “That was
so hot I almost came with you.”

“I forgot about your poor cock.” I kissed the tip, tasting his precum.

“Well we’re going to remedy that.” He rolled me onto my back, making me
squeal. My skirt and heels were still on, my shirt open, my breasts exposed. He
undressed me quickly.

“I thought you were gonna make me come again?” I teased, lifting my hips
so he could slide my skirt down my thighs. He dropped it on the floor with the
rest of my clothes, leaving me completely naked.

“I’m gonna make you come again.” He pulled his shirt off, kicking his
pants and boxers free. “When I fuck your ass.”

My eyes widened, my words gone, as he turned me over onto my belly,
lifting my behind in the air. He smacked it, making me yelp, and rubbed his
cock through my soaking wet crevice.

“Mason, wait,” I begged, but there was no talking to him once he was
determined he wanted something—and he wanted my ass.

It wasn’t that we hadn’t done it before. We’d experimented a lot during
our marriage, and I’d had my ass taken quite a bit when I was with the
Baumgartners. It was just that I wasn’t ready for it, hadn’t mentally prepared
myself. It took an adjustment to go from wanting to be fucked, to wanting to be
fucked
there.

But I was going to have to get used to the idea pretty quick, if the way
Mason was probing between my ass cheeks was any indication.

“You’re so
wet,
” he exclaimed, his cock head pressed right against
the tight entrance of my ass. I gasped, fisting the covers on his bed and
burying my face there.

“Not yet,” I begged again. “Please.”

“Okay.” His cock slid down to my pussy, thrusting in deep at this angle.
I cried out, shifting my weight on the bed to take him so far in it almost
hurt. “God that’s hot. I love watching my cock go into you.”

His finger circled the ring of my asshole as he fucked me, the wet slap
of my wet pussy taking his length filling the room. My breasts swayed with the
motion, my nipples grazing the bed. I caught his rhythm, rocking against him,
fucking him back. He slid his finger into my ass, making me whimper and grind.
He knew I loved it, and we both knew what he was doing—priming the pump, so to
speak.

“Feel good, baby?” He fucked my pussy and my ass, shoving both his cock
and his finger in as far as they would go.

“Y-y-y-yes,” I managed, his hips rocking me hard on the bed, shaking
everything.

“You want it in your ass, don’t you?”

Oh god, another finger. He wedged them both in, stretching me open. His
cock was swollen to bursting inside of me. I felt the pressure inside, so full,
both orifices stretched.

“Y-y-y-yes!” I said again, putting my shoulders down onto the bed and
reaching back with both hands. I spread my ass cheeks open for him, hearing his
sharp intake of breath. “Take it, baby. Fuck my ass.”

He groaned at my permission, his dick slipping out, his fingers too,
leaving me with a feeling of emptiness that was short-lived. His cock was
dripping oil from my pussy like a dipstick out of a hot engine and I felt the
press of it against the rigid muscle of my anus. I took a deep breath,
determined to take him, closing my eyes and trying to relax.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned, shifting on the bed to press in a little deeper.
“So
tight.”

My thighs trembled as he thrust again, driving himself in past that tight
ring of muscle. I yelped in surprise at the burn, but he waited a moment and I
recovered, moving my hips back toward his. He gripped my ass, settling himself
in deep. I slid my hand between my legs, searching for the throbbing bud of my
clit. I wanted to come like this, with him buried in my ass. How had he known
just what I’d wanted—even when I didn’t know?

“Fuck me,” I begged, rolling my hips. “Fuck my ass ’til I come.”

He pulled back, like loading a spring, and then we were off. I couldn’t
think, I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t do anything but take him, again and again
and again, the rising tide of my orgasm driven by the rock and thrust of his
hips. His cock was a piston, urging me on.

“Mason!” I was so close. So very close.

“Come,” he panted, his fingers digging into the sides of my hips. “Oh
god, Dani, I can’t hold back. I’m gonna come in your tight little ass!”

That did it. I was flying, his cock flooding me with cum, fountains of
it, a geyser of lava deep inside of me. My pussy contracted again and again, my
asshole clamping around his cock and he clung to me as if the force of it might
drive him right out. But I wasn’t letting him go. When he tried to pull out, I
clenched my still-spasming muscles around the head of his dick, making him
squirm and gasp.

“Easy!” he cried.

I smiled as he slid slowly out, feeling the “pop” of my flesh as my ass
finally gave up. He crawled up next to me on the bed, pushing my hair out of my
face and finding my cheek, kissing it. His breath was still hot and panting. So
was mine. I floated, in a dream, until the sound of someone in the flat
upstairs brought my head up off the bed.

“I should go.”

His head came up too. “So soon?”

“I don’t want to be here when Nico comes home.” This reminded us both and
we were silent for a moment, coming back down to reality. “This is all so
strange.” I sighed. “Why are you so quiet?”

“We agreed we wouldn’t push you.”

I rolled over on my side, up on my elbow to look at him. “We?”

“Me and Nico.”

I blinked. “You’ve talked about this?”

“Of course we have.”

He made it sound so matter-of-fact.

“How very civilized of you.”

“This is your choice, Dani,” Mason said softly, rolling toward me so we
were belly to belly. “And we agreed that you needed to make it without our
influence.”

I frowned. “How can either of you not influence me?”

“I guess the gentlemen’s agreement here is that we won’t play dirty,” he
replied. “No bribes, no proposals, no promises. We just have to be ourselves
and you… you have to decide which one of us you want.”

I rolled away from him, to my back, throwing an arm over my head and
staring at the ceiling.

“What is it?” he asked.

It sounded ridiculous, even as I said it—but it was the way I felt.
“Aren’t either of you going to fight for me?”

He chuckled. “Do you want us to?”

“Oh I don’t know.” I sighed, sitting up and searching for my clothes.

“I would.” Mason sat too, watching me get dressed. “Put me in a cage with
him. We’ll fight to the death. Or perhaps you’d prefer jousting? Or Russian
Roulette?”

“Very funny.” I slipped my bra on, doing up the hook in front. “This is
impossible.”

“No it’s not.” He watched as I pulled on my blouse, working the buttons.
“It’s just a decision. Me or him.”

“I thought you weren’t supposed to pressure me?” I snapped, sliding my
skirt up my hips and reaching around, trying to work my zipper.

“Am I?”

I stopped. “Mason, I’m afraid.”

“Come here.” He turned me around so he could zip my skirt. “Of what?”

“If I choose you…” I glanced back over my shoulder at him. “Well, we
didn’t get divorced for no reason, you know.”

He smiled. “Yes, I know.”

“Are we just going to pick up where we left off?” I turned in his arms,
trying to see the truth in his eyes.

“No,” he assured me. “I’m different. You’re different.”

“You’re still so tied to your family.” I sighed. “This is your father’s
business you’re talking about, not your own.”

“But I’m making my own decisions.” He looked at my blouse, frowning, and
started rebuttoning it. I’d missed one. “Trust me, they didn’t want me to come
here. They still don’t want me to be with you.”

“No?” I imagined that was true. They’d never liked me. I was a bad
influence on their son.

“But this is me, making my own decisions.” He looked up at me, his eyes
serious. “I choose you. I want you. That’s why I’m here.”

I smiled. “I knew it wasn’t just business.”

“Hardly.” He pulled me down into his lap and I straddled him as he kissed
me, slow and deep, the smell of our sex redolent in the room. I’d missed us
together, so much. Thinking about it brought tears to my eyes.

“What about Isabella?” I asked, swallowing past the obstruction in my
throat.

“What about her?”

I blinked back tears. “Don’t you miss her?”

“Of course I do.” His arms tightened around me. “She was my daughter
too.”

I closed my eyes, feeling tears slipping down my cheeks. “I don’t know if
I’ll ever get over it.”

“I don’t know if you’re supposed to.” Mason cupped my face in his hands,
using his thumbs to wipe my tears. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t move forward.”

“Oh god, please don’t talk about more babies,” I groaned, trying to twist
away from him. “Not that again.”

“Us, Dani.” He turned my face to him again, meeting my eyes. “
We
can move forward, you and I, together. Babies can be a part of that or not. But
I want you.
You.”

I contemplated the idea. “What would we do?”

“Anything you want.” He smiled, wrapping his arms back around my waist.
“You’ll be done with school in June. You can find a job here in Italy. Work
here, stay here. Isn’t that what you always wanted?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “You don’t know a word of Italian.”

“I’ll learn.” He nuzzled my belly, rested his head against my breasts.
“Ti amo.”

I love you.

I looked down at him in wonder, running my hand through his short-cropped
hair.

“See, I’m already learning.” He grinned up at me.

“It sounds too good to be true,” I murmured. “What would you do?”

“I’ve got the business,” he reminded me. “In spite of my father’s
reservations, I think branching out all over Europe is a brilliant idea, even
if it is mine. And I think it’s going to be very lucrative.”

“I can’t believe this is you talking,” I said doubtfully. “I can’t
believe it’s real.”

“It’s me. I’m real.” His eyes told me everything I wanted to know. “And I
do love you.”

“I love you too,” I whispered, kissing him softly. “I always have.”

I slid off his lap, heading for the door.

“Where are you going?” he called.

“To pee.” I stopped in the doorway, suddenly dizzy, leaning against the
wall.

“Are you all right?”

I nodded, opening the door. “Just overwhelmed.”

“Hurry back,” he called. “I want your ass one more time before you go.”

I grinned over my shoulder at him. “You are a bad, bad man.”

“I know. Hurry back.”

* * * *

“Can you see yourself doing this for the rest of your life?” I asked,
watching Nico navigate the gondola through the narrow passageway.

“Being with you?”

I smiled. “No, being a gondolier.”

“Honestly?” Nico looked across the water, his hat shading his eyes. “No.”

I sat forward in my seat. “So what do you want to do?”

He hesitated. “You’ll laugh.”

“No I won’t,” I assured him. “I promise. If you tell me… I’ll tell you
something. Quid pro quo.”

“A secret?” Nico slowed the gondola, wrapping a rope around a nearby
post.

“Yes.”

“I want to be a chef,” he confessed, stepping off onto the dock, reaching
for my hand and helping me up. “I want to own my own restaurant, like Gianni
Bonaccorsi.”

His response thrilled me. “You’d be a wonderful chef.”

“Do you mean that?” He took my hand as we walked the cobblestone toward
the flat he was sharing with Mason.

“Of course I do.”

He looked down at me, speculative. “I’ve been saving a long time to open
my own restaurant.”

“You should do it.” I squeezed his hand.

He sighed. “It’s hard to do something like that and still pay the bills
in the meantime.”

“But if it’s your dream, you should do it anyway,” I urged as we took the
stairs in his building up.

Nico unlocked the door, changing the subject. “So tell me a secret.”

“Is Mason home?” I asked, hesitating in the doorway. He’d already told me
he wouldn’t be there, but I wanted to be sure.