Home > Made for You (Cole #2)(17)

Made for You (Cole #2)(17)
Author: Vi Keeland

I circled my fingers and let my legs fall further open as I closed my eyes, imagining Jack on his knees in front of me.

“You’re so wet, baby. Put me inside of you. Show me how much you want me.”

I took a deep breath and pushed my two fingers deep inside of myself. A loud moan escaped my throat.

Jack’s voice was ragged as he continued. “I want to pump in and out of you, babe.”

I began pushing my fingers in and out, never fully withdrawing my fingers on each pull.

“Faster, babe. I need it faster, Syd.”

I pumped furiously in and out, in and out, my chest heaving as I drew closer to my own release.

“Take your thumb and cover your clit with your other hand.”

I obeyed.

“Rub circles on your clit. Don’t stop my thick c**k from thrusting.”

The pressure on my swollen clit pushed me over the edge and I came hard, the furiousness of it taking me by surprise. I moaned and called Jack’s name over and over until my orgasm worked its way through my body. My whole body shuddered as it escaped me.

I pushed out a deep breath and looked up under hooded eyes at the screen just in time to see Jack spurt three long thick streams into the air. I groaned, wishing I were there to catch it on my stomach.

A few minutes later, Jack was cleaning himself up and I pulled the sheet from the bed to cover myself. Chills met my perspiration, causing a shiver down to my toes.

“Babe, that was seriously f**king incredible.” Jack’s voice was low and sincere, but his cocky smile hinted at his mood.

“I can’t believe I was able to do that.” The rawness of what I’d just done was finally hitting me.

“Seriously, babe, I have never seen anything more erotic in my life. I’m going to need two cold showers a day just thinking about watching you do that.”

Jack’s praise pushed aside any embarrassment that had started to creep in. “Are you kidding me, have you looked in the mirror? You could probably make me come just by looking at your face and listening to your voice.”

Jack smiled and arched one eyebrow. “That sounds like a challenge….”

I laughed. “You are truly the devil, Mr. Cole.”

***

The smell of shrimp in garlic sauce permeated the room when I opened the bedroom door. My little act had worked up my appetite and I was suddenly starving.

“Mmmm ... shrimp and garlic sauce. You are too good to me.”

“Sounded more like you were good to yourself in there.” Sienna smirked, enjoying her own crude joke.

I picked up a pillow from the couch and hurled it in her direction. Sienna ducked and it missed her. “You may want to lock the door and sleep in the bedroom tonight by yourself,” Sienna teased. “I don’t think you could trust me to lay next to you, I’m so worked up from listening to you two.”

I grabbed my shrimp and garlic sauce and a fork, not even bothering to take the meal out of the tin serving container. We both knew I was going to eat the whole thing anyway.

“Jealous?”

“Are you kidding? I’m insanely jealous. Haven’t you noticed my dry spell lately? That was the most action I’ve had since we left New York.”

Sienna always had a healthy sexual appetite, but I hadn’t stopped to give any thought to her lack of recent sexual activity. Since I was suddenly forced to think about it, it was odd to realize I’d been hanging out for at least a month or two with an abstinent Sienna. The woman could snap her fingers and pretty much have any man she wanted.

“What’s stopping you? Have you decided to save yourself for marriage?” It was Sienna’s turn to throw a pillow at me.

“Maybe I’m just maturing?”

“Doubt it,” I managed to get out while chewing a mouth full of food.

“Bitch.”

“Slut.” I laughed. Sienna and I had ended many debates with our thoughtful terms of endearment.

Chapter 9

I wasn’t sure what to expect when we entered Bellissima Recording Studio in Parma, Italy. The tour promoter had worked with our agent, Ryan, to find a place for us to record in between three shows in Florence and Milan. Our plan was to record a single in two sessions, which Kyle had told us was going to be tough to do, but not impossible.

The studio was located in Parma, a small but cosmopolitan city in Northern Italy. I knew from speaking with Ryan that she had rejected at least three other studios before accepting Bellissima as our recording destination. The promoter had sent a car to pick up Sienna and I from Milan early in the morning, and the trip to Parma had taken a little over an hour. Jack had told me that Parma was well known for its artistic heritage, opera and food. As our car navigated the small cobblestone streets of the city, I was excited to see the historical architecture of the village come into sight. Students wandered around the streets, and beautiful historic churches set the backdrop for a small village within a city.

We pulled up to Bellissima and the driver instructed us in his best attempt at English to enter through a small alley door. As we entered the building I was struck by the stark contrast of the modern, sleek feel of the inside to the rich historical feel of the outside.

“Buon Giorno! Such bellissima ladies, you have come to the right place!” an adorable small older Italian man yelled as he came to greet us at the door. He immediately reached for us, kissing both cheeks in a grand expression that instantly made me like the silver-haired charming man.

“Buon Giorno.” I smiled, returning the gesture. “I’m Sydney, and this is Sienna. We’re here to meet Giovanni for a recording session.”

“Si. I am Giovanni, but to you I am Gio, yes? All the beautiful ladies, they call me Gio. We sit, we have biscotti and espresso, si.”

“Si,” Sienna and I responded in unison and smiled. We were both incessant coffee drinkers and were starting to go through withdrawal from the single cup we’d each had that morning before being rushed off to the studio.

Gio folded each of his arms to his chest, his elbows proudly offering each of us an arm to hold as he walked us to an exit door at the rear of the studio. Outside was a small courtyard that held three small round tables with matching wrought iron chairs. The small courtyard perimeter was outlined by dozens of small planting pots with various greenery growing. The patio smelled of coffee and spice and I looked around the tiny area, recognizing basil and a dozen other fresh seasonings growing.

Gio directed us to a table, pulling out our chairs in the same grand, over-exaggerated fashion that he had greeted us. I was pretty sure that his actions would come off as cheesy when done by most men. But on Gio it was endearing and entertaining. He had a way of making a woman feel like she was on a pedestal within a minute of meeting him.

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