Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Luca
T he scotch was bracing, but after coming home to find Agent Asshole on my porch and finger-fucking Siobhán on my kitchen island, I needed bracing.
Watching Siobhán handle Agent Johnson killed any remaining suspicion that she was a rat. She could’ve spilled or used the opportunity to leave. Instead, she gave him the runaround. She played along, a little too well, and gave me a raging hard-on.
I shot the rest of the glass and poured another. I’d started down this path and there was no turning back. My dick wouldn’t allow it. I kicked off my shoes and bounded up the stairs to my bedroom.
Siobhán was sprawled atop my comforter, one hand behind her head, elbow out to the side. The other traced the top edge of her thong. She bent one of her long legs and rocked her knee from side to side. The tiny scrap of white lace covering her perfect pussy was made even more sexy by that ridiculous tank top. It was just tight enough that her nipples poked through the thin fabric. I downed a mouthful of scotch.
She was ready, squirming on the bed and rubbing her thighs together. The way she devoured me with her eyes made my dick twitch and leak.
I set my drink on the nightstand and unbuckled my belt. “You ready to be thoroughly fucked?”
Her lips parted on an intake. “Yes,” she answered, soft and breathy.
She watched me undress, not hiding her appreciation or desire. She’d looked at me like that before. Across the lobby, at the gala, the night upstairs at Vesuvio. Like she wanted to devour me. I had no doubt my eyes held as much heat if not more. They started to turn downstairs with my fingers inside her. My fangs descended too despite my best efforts at restraint, and I nicked her neck. The instinct to bite down almost bested me, but I’d never take her without permission, and permission required explanation. I had to remain in control.
I pulled off my undershirt and stood in my boxers. Her eyes traveled the length of my torso. She swallowed, licked her lips, and rolled onto her side, reaching for my waistband.
I dropped my boxers, and my erection sprang free. Her eyes widened, and she propped herself up, inching closer.
“You want this, baby?” I took my dick in my hand and rubbed the pre-cum dripping from the tip all over its swollen head. “Is this what you want?”
She reached for me again, and I stepped back. I stroked myself, agonizingly slow, but I wanted her to beg. “Uh-uh. I told you downstairs—you need to play nice. I asked you a question, and I want an answer. Now what do you want?”
“I want you,” she said, low and husky.
“Which part of me?”
“Your cock.”
“Where do you want it?”
She raised her eyes, and a wicked smile crossed her pale pink lips. “Fucking my pussy.”
“Christ.”
I wanted her. I’d wanted her from the first day I spied her across the lobby at Terme. And that desire, that need, had never ebbed. Even after I found out there was more to her story, after she pushed my buttons, after I took her to the bridge…
“On your knees,” I growled.
She scrambled onto all fours, and I climbed onto the bed behind her. Misshapen scars from where the bullets exited marred her back’s otherwise smooth skin, and I wanted to kill that fucker O’Doyle all over again. The instinct to protect her, to claim her and make her mine, had me grinding my teeth.
She looked back expectantly from behind the fall of her hair. I gathered it in my fist and pulled her to her knees. She pressed her back against my front, and her nails dug into the sides of my thighs, the same position as when she’d clung to me on the bridge.
I clung to her that night too, not wanting to let go. I’d end my torture and avenge my father, but not if it meant losing Siobhán.
The realization rocked me, but I couldn’t ignore the truth. I wanted this woman in ways that defied reason, and I hated myself for what it was doing to me. She made me forget who I was and what I wanted. I was Luca Moretti, and I wanted revenge, revenge against her family. Instead, all I could think about was how good it would feel to finally sink into Siobhán Connelly.
I slid my free hand up her shirt and found her nipple. “Do you want this big dick inside you?” I snarled the words in her ear.
“Yes,” she said, her breath coming in short gasps.
I tightened my grip on her hair, yanked her head back, and squeezed her breast, pinching her nipple. “Tell me you want a fucking, Siobhán.”
She blinked, and her throat at this angle bobbed through a swallow. I rocked my hips forward, pressing my erection into her ass. Her soft skin against my hard dick was heaven.
“I’ve wanted you to fuck me for two years, Luca.” Her declaration was rich and sultry. “I’ve been waiting for you to fuck me since the day we met.”
I released her breast and ran my fingers across her bottom lip. She sucked them into her mouth and tongued them, the same as when she’d blown me that night at Vesuvio.
“That mouth,” I said and bit her shoulder, careful not to prick her with my fangs. They’d elongated, not fully, but enough that if I wasn’t careful, I’d nick her again. I moved my nips and licks up her neck to her ear. “So wicked.” I sucked her earlobe into my mouth and tugged on it with my teeth.
I pulled her hair, forcing her head onto my shoulder. “Are you ready to be punished for all that mouthing off?” I shoved my hand down the front of her thong, feeling my way through the moist strip of hair to her clit. I pinched it between my thumb and forefinger.
“Ah!” She sucked in a breath and scratched her fingernails up my thighs. “Yes!”
“Are we safe to fuck without a rubber?”
“Yes,” she said between panting breaths.
“Thank fuck.” I wanted to feel her. We’d stripped away all pretense, and I wanted nothing left between us.
I sucked on her neck one last time, wishing I could sink my fangs into her flesh, but released her instead, pushing away temptation. “On your hands,” I ordered, and she obeyed.
I spread her legs with my knees, grabbed her ass, and squeezed. I tilted her hips up, opening her to me. The pale skin around her pussy was slick with desire, and the white string of lace against her pink, swollen flesh an indecent invitation.
“Fuck, I need to be inside you.” I grabbed the thong at her waist and ripped the strip of fabric from her body. She yelped and her body jerked, but she thrust her hips back and tilted her ass up, welcoming me.
I ran the head of my dick through her folds, coating myself with her wetness and teasing her opening. She squirmed and wiggled with each swipe. I couldn’t wait any longer. I lined myself up with her entrance and sank into her until I felt her pussy against my balls.
She cried out, a yelp of pain and a moan of pleasure.
I pressed my hips forward, bottoming out with a grunt. “Holy fuck, you’re tight.”
I inched my dick, slick with her cum, out of her tight heat, then plunged back into her warm depths. Her body stretched to accommodate me but squeezed me like a vise, a perfect sheath made for my pleasure and my pleasure alone.
Moving in and out of her tight little cunt, watching my thick cock stretch her pussy wide and take my length… It was the most erotic thing I’d ever seen. The visual alone was enough to make me come, never mind the lewd noises she made with each thrust.
Siobhán watched me over her shoulder, cheeks flushed, eyes dilated. Pleasure and pain played across her face, evident in the bend of her parted lips as she got used to my size.
“Such a tight little pussy. When’s the last time you had a dick inside you?”
She shivered, and her eyes fluttered closed. I fisted her hair and slammed into her. She yelped.
“Answer me,” I said.
She opened her eyes, and they flashed with challenge. “Two years ago.”
I groaned, and my dick throbbed at the implication. I pulled until she lifted onto her knees. She tangled her fingers in my hair, elbows wide, pert breasts and thick nipples jutting. “No wonder you’re so tight. You were waiting for this dick, weren’t you?” I wrapped my other arm around her and fingered her clit. “This pussy is mine, isn’t it?”
“Unh,” she moaned, deep and throaty. Her fingers twisted in my hair, and she rocked her hips. “For now,” she taunted, barely above a whisper in her temptress voice.
I tugged on her hair. “It’s mine,” I snarled and slapped her clit. She cried out. “And I won’t let you forget it.”
I coated my fingers with her wetness, running them over her clit to where the base of my dick stretched her tight entrance. I released her hair and pushed her down until she was back on all fours.
I squeezed her hip, holding her in place, and started to move. I picked up speed until I railed her hard, slamming my hips into her. “You gonna behave, baby?”
“Never!” she cried between gasps and the slap of skin on skin.
“If you want this dick again,” I said and spread her wetness from my fingers across her other hole. She whimpered and pressed her hips back. “If you want me to make you come…” I licked my thumb, coating it, then circled her back entrance, adding just enough pressure to make her beg.
“Please! Luca! Please!”
“I told you I’d make you beg.” I slid my thumb into her ass.
She moaned, an animal-like sound that almost pushed me over the edge. “Yeah,” I said through a self-satisfied grin. “You’ll behave.”
Breathy sighs and grunts and the wet sounds of fucking filled the bedroom. I kept up the pace, pounding her pussy while dipping my thumb in and out of her ass. I was close, but I wanted to feel her come around me before I let go.
“Luca! I’m going to come!”
“That’s right, baby. Come for me. Be a good girl and come for me.” I pushed my thumb deeper, and she came apart.
She wailed, loud and unrestrained, and the walls of her pussy clenched. She squeezed my dick so tight, the sensation building in my spine erupted. I came hard—the orgasm of my life—my body shaking with each stream of cum I shot into her body. Claiming her. I never wanted to stop claiming her.
She rode out her orgasm, and I shivered through the last vestiges of mine until we stilled, spent and panting from a violent explosion years in the making.
I removed my thumb from her ass, but didn’t pull out. I didn’t want to. Not yet. I didn’t want the moment to end. I wanted more. I wanted to fuck her all night and all day. For weeks. For months.
For eternity.
My mind raced trying to process those foreign, unwelcome thoughts and the way my body tingled with an impulse to wrap her in my arms and never let go.
My dick softened as I tried to make sense of what happened. I pulled out, climbed off the bed, and wandered into the master bathroom, confused and reeling. I washed my hands, grabbed a cloth, and soaked it in warm water.
Siobhán sat on the bed, propped up by the headboard and still wearing that ridiculous tank top. A muss of blonde, her hair stuck out at odd ends. One knee out to the side revealed a tiny strip of blonde and swollen lips glistening with our shared pleasure.
“You’ve never looked more beautiful.” The whispered words broke free before I could stop them.
She lowered her eyes, the pink of her already flushed cheeks deepening.
I sat on the edge of the bed and leaned back, propping myself up on my elbow. I cleaned between her legs, captivated by all the creamy skin and patches of tiny freckles. She watched me—I felt her following each of my near-reverent motions—and I finally caved. I looked up.
She smiled, playful and knowing, like we shared a secret neither of us wanted to admit. I searched her eyes, and in them, I finally saw the truth. She never meant to hurt me. Ever. How could she? She was in love.
The uncomfortable realization took root, twisting and winding through my insides. I struggled to swallow, the suffocating sensation clawing its way up my throat.
She stared at me, satisfied, eager, and trusting, waiting for what came next.
“Are you hungry?” I asked, and the question moved through the air like we were underwater, the words slow and surreal.
She wrinkled her brow and blinked. “Yes, actually.”
I dropped the washcloth and ran my hand up her leg, from her knobby knee to her stomach. “I’ll make us dinner.” I traced my fingertips over the scars that crisscrossed her abdomen, wondering when we’d pull out of this underwater trance.
She watched my finger, mesmerized, until I stopped over one of the entry wounds. She sat up, scooted forward, and threaded her fingers into my hair, running her nails over my scalp. I shivered, and my eyes fluttered closed.
“What are we having?” she asked.
“What would you like?”
“I like Italian,” she said.
I fought a smile. “Get dressed. I’ll be downstairs.” I leaned forward and kissed her neck just below her ear, wishing I could have another type of meal. “You’re due a third orgasm. I haven’t forgotten.”
My lips lingered on her neck. It felt intimate and beautiful. And wrong. Because she loved me, and there was no space left in my heart for love. Revenge occupied every inch of its dark chambers. But when she dragged her fingernails across my scalp, I kissed her there again, needing her to feel the same fullness in her heart that I wanted to feel in mine.
I pulled away and swatted her on the hip. “Let’s go.”
Siobhán walked across the hall to her bedroom. I tugged on a pair of joggers and made my way downstairs, dazed and confused. We’d crossed a line, and whatever happened next, there was no turning back.