I was so full of him, and with his mouth on mine I felt overwhelmed. Complete. Consumed. And I never wanted to come up for air.
He tried to slow the kiss, but I didn’t want to stop. Couldn’t.
I pressed my mouth to his, gave his top lip a gentle lick, stole his breath straight from his lungs. He tasted so good. Like me, and warm vanilla whiskey.
He nipped my bottom lip, telling me enough.
“Fuck me or get off.”
I faltered at his sudden change of mood. However, I soon realized what this was. He was pissed that I’d never kissed him and now he was going to withhold it from me. My eyes narrowed, though I wasn’t that moved. Another man in the Cosa Nostra would’ve never respected my wish not to kiss him, and this one had. Now that I was trying to eat him alive, the proud boss was reminded of it.
I rolled my hips, slow and lazy at first. The soreness was like standing near a fire that was a bit too hot but you’d die without its warmth. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pressed my face into his neck.
A shiver rolled through me, pressure and heat sparking as I ground my clit against his pelvis. His hands ran down my back, gripping my ass and pulling me harder against him. I was only rubbing myself against him, not fucking him yet, but he didn’t seem to mind.
The sensation of him deep and still inside of me drove me to the edge. An mmm sound escaped me as I rose an inch and then slid back down.
“Fuck, those noises.” He captured the next one in his mouth. His palms ran to my ribs, spanning my waist. A shudder rolled under his skin as I began to slowly move up and down.
Rough hands held me tightly.
Teeth nipped my jaw.
Lips ran up my neck before pressing to my ear.
“You gonna keep your mouth from me again?”
I shook my head.
“Because it’s mine?”
“Yes,” I breathed.
He groaned from his throat before grabbing the back of my neck and kissing me hard. Wet and messy. Wild and rough. And then slow, wet glides and licks, like he was trying to taste every inch of my mouth. Warmth spilled into my chest and spread outward.
He let me get used to fucking him before his hands started moving me up and down. Sweet, hot pressure began to build. I moaned in his mouth. He kissed me and kissed me until I couldn’t breathe anything but him.
When his head lowered and he sucked a nipple into his mouth, the pressure boiled over. A shudder shook me as pleasure burst and finally dissipated. My breath came out heavy and erratic, my forehead resting on his.
His body tensed, and his hands tightened on my waist as he rocked me.
“Ask me to come inside you.”
“Please come inside me,” I sighed against his lips.
He pressed his face against my throat, let out a masculine groan that sent goose bumps down my body, and bit my neck hard enough it would leave a mark.
I sat there with my arms around his shoulders, my breath fanning his throat. His presence soaked through my skin with each inhale. His touch and taste and smell sank so deep they filled the cracks of my heart. He was becoming a drug, an addiction I would have to feed every day. From the recent hit, euphoria filled my veins and relaxed my limbs.
He was an infatuation, a craving, a need, and I was sure it was unrequited. But as my fingers ran down his tie and rested on his chest—
Bu-bum.
Bu-bum.
Bu-bum.
His heartbeats raced for me.
“We do not remember days, we remember moments.”
—Cesare Pavese
I RAN MY HANDS DOWN her back, marveling at the softness. She was so small and breakable in my arms—I could snuff the life right out of her with little effort. The thought made something tighten in my throat.
I didn’t know what to do with this woman, but I did know I was keeping her. Every time I saw her, my blood burned hotter, searing the word mine into my chest. If it were only the greedy Russo in me driving this infatuation, it would’ve gone away the moment she left my bed. Everyone at the Abelli house today knew that hadn’t fucking happened.
I’d come to the conclusion I didn’t give a shit if she wanted to be with another: she couldn’t. It was that simple. I kept myself from digging into her past because I knew if I found something I didn’t like—specifically, a lover—I wouldn’t be able to handle it with a clear mind. And the thought of earning her hatred sent a hollow ache throughout my chest.
Her breath fanned my neck, and I ran my fingers through her hair. There was so fucking much of it. I’d had to hold it out of her face while she sucked my dick. She hadn’t been lying—that was the first time she’d done it. A heady rush consumed me. Maybe she wasn’t as experienced as I’d believed.