Chapter Eleven

Callie

What in the ever-loving fuck am I doing?

When I saw his car on the street, fear spiked through me. I know the gunman has yet to be found and that makes him a potential target. I should have made him go home. I should have called one of his brothers to come and get him. But those weren’t the words that came out of my mouth. No, like an idiot, I invited him upstairs.

I have a sick fascination when it comes to this specific Cammareri brother. Not only do I constantly think of him, but I dream of him. Filthy, depraved dreams. Which is why, when he spreads my thighs and steps between them, I allow it. It’s why I melt against him the moment his lips touch mine. I know I shouldn’t want this—him. But I don’t want to stop.

I lock my legs behind his back drawing him closer to me. He spears his hand in my hair, tilting my head to the side and deepening the kiss. For long moments, we enjoy exploring each other before he pulls away.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” he says, breathing harshly while he stares at me.

“I didn’t exactly stop you,” I say with a smile as I untangle my legs.

“Why didn’t you?” he asks, genuine curiosity lacing his words.

Even with my legs no longer holding him against me, he doesn’t move away.

“You’re attractive. We’re both single. And I’m horny,” I reply honestly.

“Fuck,” he curses lowly, finally stepping away from me.

My ex always said I was too brash and too direct. That men don’t like woman like that. They enjoyed the chase. Apparently, he was right because I just pushed Mancuso away without meaning to. I want to tell him to forget what I just said when I find myself lifted into his arms.

“Bed?”

I point toward my bedroom, shock coursing through me.

He quickly makes his way to my room before lowering both of us to my secondhand double bed, holding his weight up by using his corded arms. He stares at me for long moments.

“If I’m fucking you, no one else is allowed in your bed until we are done.” His voice is hoarse.

“Ditto,” I say softly.

“I’m serious,” he says, pushing my hair off my forehead.

“So am I,” I reply. “And this is only between us. I don’t want anyone knowing my business.”

He frowns for a moment but nods before kissing me again.

I’ve only ever been with one man, my asshole, cheating ex, so this is an experience for me. Mancuso is passionate even though we are just kissing. His tongue explores my mouth like he wants to consume me. A grunt leaves him as he readjusts our position slightly and I remember his wound. Pushing against his chest I wait until he pulls away.

“Your wound.” I feel an unusual amount of worry for this man who I don’t really know.

“I’m fine,” he grits out.

I push harder and use my hips until I get us flipped over. I straddle his waist, feeling his erection beneath me. Rocking my hips, I rub against him. His hands grab my hips, pulling me down harder onto him, a growl falling from his lips.

“We’re only doing this if I’m on top,” I say with a sultry smile.

“You won’t hear me complaining,” he replies with a grin.

Slowly, his fingers inch the material of my top up my torso and over my head, discarding it beside the bed and exposing my baby blue lace bra to him. His finger teases along the cup, his gaze tracking every move. Reaching behind me, I undo the clasp and allow my breasts to fall free, the globes swaying as my bra falls away.

“So pretty,” he praises, lightly pinching my left nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Oh,” the sound falls from my lips as he pulls me down to his mouth and sucks on my right nipple.

His other hand holds my hip tightly and uses it to pull me down on his covered erection. A moment later he releases my nipple with a pop and lands a swat on my ass.

“Get up,” he demands. “Since I’m not allowed to do any of the work, I want you to get undressed so I can see all of you.”

My lust-addled brain takes a moment to process his words, and I earn another swat to the ass before complying. Mancuso watches every move I make as I undo my jean shorts and push them to the floor along with my underwear.

A moment later, he sits upright and tugs the dove grey t-shirt he is wearing over his head and throws it to the floor. Previously hidden swirling tattoos I never expected are bared for me to see and I fight the urge to lick each one of them.

He pops the button on his jeans before pushing them down a bit and freeing his erection.

“Come here,” he says huskily, lying back on the bed.

I climb back on the bed, centering myself over his cock, before lowering down.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he curses, head thrown back. “But not what I wanted.”

He lifts me off his cock and I mewl at the loss. He pulls me up his body and I’m at a loss.

“Sit on my face, beautiful,” he growls. “I want to eat this pretty pussy.”

“No,” I say immediately, struggling against his hold.

“Why?” he asks with a frown, not pushing me any further.

I am straddling his chest, my pussy basically against his chin.

“I’m too fat,” I say, repeating the words my ex used to say. “I’ll smother you.”

He shakes his head with a frown. “That motherfucker really did a number on you. You’re not fat. You’re fucking juicy. You’re curvy. You’re perfect.”

“You don’t have to…”

“Apparently I do,” he says cutting me off. “Everyone has different tastes. I prefer the woman I am fucking not to be a bag of skin and bones. I don’t want to be afraid of hurting you on every thrust. I want to fuck you hard and dirty.”

I stare at him, trying to figure out if he’s lying.

“You can either sit on my face and let me eat you out, or I am going to flip us over, pin you down, and eat you out. But you can be damn sure I will be eating that pussy tonight.”

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