Not finding him, Chyna’s frustration got the best of her, and she left the main ballroom. The party was basically over. If Marco had, in fact, left the building, then it was officially over. Everyone else in that room didn’t matter to her. If she wanted, she could get another job with any one of them without the proper introduction. But, she wanted the best, and she was going to f**king get it.
She stomped back to the director’s office where her clothes had been discarded. When she walked in and saw that big f**king desk sitting in the middle of the room, her body warmed all over, and her body clenched up at the dirty thoughts running through her mind. He should have f**ked her on that desk. That way she wouldn’t be so horny and desperate for him to be inside of her now.
“Asshole,” she grumbled, coming around the backside of the desk. She reached out for her pile of neatly folded clothing, and on top of her clothes, she found a small envelope with her name scribbled on the front. She would recognize that handwriting anywhere. Her lower half pulsed as her imagination took off, but her heart also constricted in fear that this was the end. Would he leave her with just a note?
She opened the crisp white envelope and pulled out the gold-trimmed card stamped with Marco’s logo on the front.
Her shaky hands flipped it over and read the short message on the back.
Backstage entrance. Blue Bugatti.
Don’t think about taking off that dress.
Chyna wasn’t sure she had ever moved that fast. She left her clothes, sitting discarded on the desk, and rushed out of the director’s office. She turned away from the party and down the empty hallway, following the signs to the stage.
A stray janitor gave her a suspicious look as she bolted past him, but he didn’t do anything to stop her. Soon enough, she found the stage and the big sign indicating the exit. Without a backward glance, she pushed the heavy door open and walked into the back alley of the theatre.
As promised, a shiny blue Bugatti revved in the narrow street. The car was f**king gorgeous. Panty - dropping hot car!
She licked her lips and cautiously approached the passenger side. The windows were tinted so dark that she couldn’t make out an outline of the driver, but she could hazard a guess.
Slowly, the passenger door lifted upward, rather than out, as it turned a hundred-and-eighty degrees vertically, displaying the cream leather interior.
Chyna picked up the train of her dress and slid into the car without a second thought.
The door closed behind her automatically, and she turned to face the man sitting in the driver’s seat.
“About f**king time,” Marco said, shifting into gear and pressing on the acceleration.
He turned around the corner and onto the main street. He looked over at her and smirked. That was all the warning she was given before he punched the accelerator, going zero to sixty in just over two seconds, throwing Chyna backward into the seat.
“Holy shit,” she muttered, quickly buckling her seat belt. This thing was fast!
He merged into traffic, out pacing every other car by a long shot. Other cars mercifully got out of his way as he flew past them. The images blurred in her vision and made her stomach twist. She looked up at the sky to ground her. How fast were they going anyway ? She turned her head to the speedometer and saw the top speed written as four-hundred-thirty kilometers. They were sitting at just over half that. Her head spun. How fast was that? She couldn’t do conversions in her head.
“How fast can this thing go?” she asked as he veered around another car.
God, we were so close to that thing.
One wrong move… But, Marco hadn’t made a single wrong move. He was a natural behind the wheel, handling the beautiful car with the ease of a race car driver. Why had they never gone driving before if he had this thing?
“Four-hundred-thirty kilometers,” he responded, not taking his eyes off the road.
She was thankful for that. “In miles?”
she prompted.
He chuckled softly, darting his eyes toward hers briefly. “Two-hundred-sixty- seven miles per hour.”
“Fuck. We’re going one-thirty to one- forty?” she asked as she pressed herself back against the seat, trying not to think about it.
“Is that too slow for you? I know you like it fast,” he said, hitting the gas harder.
Chyna gripped the left handle to steady herself as they went shooting down the highway. Normally, it didn’t take long to get back to his place. It would have been even shorter, punching it at one-hundred and sixty miles per hour, but it seemed that Marco just wanted to show off. He made a sweep of the city before circling back in the direction of his apartment. If she didn’t know Milan so well, she probably would have missed the majority of what they were driving by. She had never driven it before, of course, but she had ridden around the city enough for various shoots.
. She could tell immediately that the ride in his Bugatti had sent a rush of adrenaline through him, and she would be lying if she said that she didn’t feel it, too.
A few blocks from his place, he pulled up fast and turned sharply into an alleyway.
“What are you doing?” Chyna asked, sitting up a little straighter.
“I want to show you something first,”
he said with a sly smile.
“Will I like it?”
“You’ll love it.”
Chyna chose to trust him because really she had no other choice. As he took a few more sharp turns around the winding street, Chyna stopped keeping track. She was totally lost, and even if they were spit out on a street she knew, she wouldn’t be able to tell you which one or on what end.
At long last, Marco came to a stop overlooking the Naviglio Grande canal, which joined the Ticino River to the Darsena dock. The canal used to be part of a series of navigational waterways connecting the entire city, but over time, it had been destroyed or covered up. Along the gorgeous flat waterway, much of the area had been converted into shops, bars, and tourist traps.
Tonight, however, the area seemed tame. It was late, but that hardly stopped the youth of the city from traversing the paths and bars hidden around the water.
From their vantage point, they could see down the long stretch of water, but were blocked them from view.
Marco cut the ignition, removing even the hum of the powerful engine. She swallowed and looked out across the expansive display before her. Her heart was thumping a sharp tattoo in her chest as her anticipation grew. The tension was practically palpable between them, and Marco’s hands twitched on the steering wheel.
“Well, do you like it?” he asked, turning to examine her face.
She continued staring out toward the city view, but she felt his eyes travel up and down her very visible body under the nude gown. “You can see the stars,” she mused. She hadn’t been able to see them from the windows of La Scala Theatre.
“I’m looking at mine.”
With that, she turned her face back to Marco’s and found herself examining him as well. He was so f**king powerful in every aspect of his face. He had a strong jaw, chiseled cheekbones, and ever-aware keen eyes. His entire physique just screamed at her. He had warmed her up with a glance. Before she knew it, her body was on fire all over again. As if she hadn’t gone hours without his hand on her backside, she felt like she was transported back to that room, bent over that big f**king desk with his c*ck pressed against her ass. . This time he wasn’t getting off the hook.
His hand reached across the car, grasping the back of her head and pulling her toward him as he deftly unbuckled her seat belt. Their lips crashed together, igniting the spark that had been burning low all night. God, she wanted him desperately. She wanted him for every handprint on her ass, for every time he left her in the dark, for every fondling of Ms.
Cupcake the reporter, for every dirty and nasty thought he’d had about her, for every mention of the word star. She wanted to f**k his brains out. She wanted him to really feel her anger, passion, and frustration, and she wanted to take it out on him in the best way they knew how.
Chyna fumbled for his belt. She made quick work on pulling it open before unbuttoning his pants and yanking the zipper down. He untucked his shirt and slid his pants and boxer briefs off in one fluid motion. She had already kicked off her shoes and was soon throwing her underwear onto the spotless carpeted floor.
“Get back over here,” he said, reaching for her lips again.
He grabbed her left leg, pulling it across the seat, and across his body. She ducked her head to avoid hitting the low ceiling, so she could straddle him. His dick was hot and hard in her hand when she reached for him, and his head dropped back when she worked her way up and down the shaft. She hadn’t even needed to touch him really. He was already so turned on. At least she wasn’t the only one who had been left wanting earlier.
“I’m going to f**k you now,” she whispered into his ear.
She sat up a little higher so that she could adjust his dick underneath her.
When the tip touched her wetness, she shivered all over at the feel of him. This was what she wanted. This was exactly what she wanted. Nothing else mattered but this, this moment.
Her sex slowly licked across the head, swirling teasingly against him. Marco growled deep in his throat at her taunting behavior, reaching out to grip her h*ps forcefully between his hands. He shoved her down on top of him, and she gave out a short yelp as her walls expanded to fit him. When he filled her completely, she dropped her head forward onto his shoulder, a moan of pleasure escaping her lips.
“God, you feel good,” she whispered.
“I’ve been waiting for this for far too long.”
“You and me both.”
She slowly lifted herself up, feeling his hands tighten on her h*ps again. She eased back down on him before straightening up to look into his handsome face. Resting her hands on his shoulders, she began a quick bouncing movement— up and down, up and down. His hands kept the rhythm smooth, giving her some added force. When she rocked backward, he pushed up inside of her.
Her cli**x was already fast approaching. She had been impressively turned on from the spanking earlier, and now, finally having him inside of her was more than exhilarating. It was euphoric.
She didn’t know if she could think of a better place to be than inside a multimillion-dollar car with her designer forcing her down on top of him over and over again.
“Marco,” she groaned. “Oh fuck!”
“My star,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her collarbone. “You’re going to come for me.”
“Make me,” she demanded, moving their bodies together faster. All she wanted was to hit cli**x. Her body was quivering on top of him with the impending release.
“When you do, I’m going to make you do it again,” he growled, pushing himself as deep as he could go. “You’re going to come until I tell you to stop.”
“Please, God, yes!” she cried, her body clenching demandingly around him as an orgasm ripped through her body.
He slammed her down twice more on top of him as her body shook uncontrollably, and then he grunted, reaching cli**x with her. He shuddered underneath her before they both went still, the only movement coming from her trembling legs. He kissed a light trail across her shoulder and up her neck.