Chapter 9 #2
Her heart surged before she could catch hold and temper it, and when he lazily climbed on top of her and his sleepy, silver eyes locked onto hers, it was her breath she could no longer catch.
It was terrifying how much this seemed to be happening.
If she could only avoid being trapped in his stare, she would be better able to control all the sensations he evoked in her.
Her only saving grace was that she continued to resist initiating it, holding her breath and lying with heightened anticipation for him to roll on top of her and for her body to sigh in relief that it was going to happen.
Never would she make the first move.
“Good morning, wife,” he whispered.
Her heart surged again and caught in her throat. “Good morning,” she whispered back before she could stop herself.
His mouth slanted onto hers for a kiss so sleepy and lazy it seemed to drug her with its somnolent effect.
His kisses drugged her whatever way they were given.
Closing her eyes, Siena submitted to the dream-like sensation and returned the kiss. She could do nothing else. Elio’s kisses and the feel of his body on hers were just too heady a combination to deny herself the pleasure they gave.
Lips parting and moving slowly together, she threaded her fingers through his hair as already awakened sparks of desire flickered into flames inside her, and when she felt his arousal grow and jut against her thigh, she deepened the kiss and tilted her hips in silent invitation.
With the faintest of groans, he lifted himself onto an elbow.
His lips fusing back to hers, he reached down for his length and guided it to her opening.
Gazing into his hooded eyes, she wrapped her arms and legs tightly around him and welcomed his possession, sighing her pleasure to feel him inside her again.
Did it matter that he was her enemy if he could make her feel like this, she wondered dimly as they began to move together. If marrying the devil meant pleasure like this, then that was a trade she could live with, because devil or not, this was heaven.
She could feel every glorious inch of him moving so deeply inside her.
Elio filled her with a zinging, burning completeness that was better than anything else on this earth.
When her climax had crept up on her the first night he’d taken her so tenderly, it had caught her unawares, shocking her with both the heavenly sensation and the strength of it.
Elio had taken her to that heavenly place many times since then, and now she actively chased it.
Sliding her hand down the smooth, muscular plane of his back, she groped for his buttock and squeezed it tightly, urging him on, raising her thighs higher and seeking another of his dizzying kisses.
As if sensing her body’s growing need for release, his movements lengthened and quickened.
A hand gripped her thigh to spread it wider, and now he was no longer just filling her.
Their bodies were locked so tightly together that he was a part of her, the coil inside her winding tighter and tighter until it sprang free and the heavenly sensations exploded inside her again.
Holding him tightly, she rode the waves, crying out at the bliss of the spasms rippling through her body, lost to everything but this perfect, heavenly moment and the heavenly heat of Elio’s mouth on her ear as he gave a strangled groan and drove into her one final, blissful time.
* * *
Elio finished shaving his neck and was patting it dry when his tiny flip phone buzzed.
Before looking at it, he flicked his stare to the closed bathroom door.
On the other side of it, Siena would be getting dressed.
She had as many phones as he did, so the handful he used had never been commented on.
In their world, burner phones were a must. For this particular phone, there was only one contact stored on it, under the name of Michael.
The contact number went to ‘Michael’s’ burner phone.
‘Michael’s’ message consisted of just one word: Done.
For the briefest of moments, the room seemed to spin around him before he expelled a long breath.
He’d wanted it to be today. Today was the anniversary of his mother’s death.
Padding to the door, he put his ear to it. Hearing the sound of the hairdryer, he fired a quick message back: When can you get the car?
The reply came in seconds: A week on Tuesday.
He closed his eyes and allowed himself a private moment of elation before deleting the messages.
There was little chance of Sienna seeing them and even less chance of her understanding them, but he hadn’t dragged himself from the gutter to the position of taking everything from the Espositos by taking chances, even negligible ones.
Michael was Vincent Angeli, the Espositos’ lawyer. The car was the Espositos. What was done was the completion of the documents to remove Lorenzo Esposito’s name from all the individual businesses and investments, including the casinos, that he’d gifted his wife and children during his lifetime.
Except he’d never fully gifted them. Lorenzo’s name had remained on them.
When his wife and children signed the documents a week on Tuesday, they wouldn’t be taking full sole control of those assets.
They’d be unwittingly signing them over to Elio.
The notary who’d be overseeing it all, a member of the judiciary who’d been on the Espositos’ payroll for decades, was now on Elio’s payroll.